Lost

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The Kate Lost Factor was in excellent form today.

First, for those of you who have known me a long time and are still living with the belief that Kate Doesn’t Sweat, then I must apprise you of the new paradigm. Not only do I get red in the face and overheated, I also get sweaty. Such a pretty picture.

Not to keep you in suspense, I’ll get right to my tale of misdirection. It all began with a lovely morning at the Alhambra, a place so face melltingly lovely that I am going back tomorrow. And there is an MC Escher exhibit that my feet just couldn’t manage today. I took the bus down the hill to Plaza Nueva. I saw this sign while on the bus. Loved it, and was feeling good – got the right bus, had the fare, took the photo.

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Plaza Nueve is a Big Deal. Very touristy, but nice on a Sunday morning. I needed food, so stopped at a place with lots of tables under umbrellas, where a single person wouldn’t be takin up precious real-estate. I had a perfect late breakfast, early lunch (11:30) depending on what continent you are on. Fruit with walnuts and honey, croissant, cafe con leche, water.

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Not quite ready to move, I ordered a glass of vino blanco to finish my croissant. The tapa that they served was a plate of Jamon Iberico, yes really. I saw the guy slice it. See?

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So now I was ready to walk. I had spent the time not chewing studying my maps (plural) and I was CERTAIN that I knew where I was and where was going.

***warning number one*** when i am certain, go the opposite way.

Off I went. Wrong turn number one- dead end. Wrong turn number two, not where I think should be. So I wander for a half an hour, trying to stay in the shade. I am seriously over warm. I was sure I was four blocks or so from my hotel, donde esta Plaza Gamboa?

Aha! I found a sister hotel to the one I am at, and ask the lovely young lady at the desk how to get here from there. She says, “I’ll get you a map.” I have a map. Clearly that is not working. She draws on my map. Good. Seems simple.

****warning number two***** simple rarely is when it comes to me and directions.

I follow the line that was laid out for me, and yes, I do recognize that statue. And that statue. But not this memorable bit of street art:

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Yep, feeling like that. I ask for directions again. This time in Spanish of a beleaguered waitress at a baking in the sun cafe. She gives me excellent directions in Spanish which I actually understand. Two turns and I am back on Navas, party central from yesterday. And now I do know my way home.

If learning differences exist in 100% of the population, then mine surely are spacial. My inability to intuitively know my right from my left (okay, there- it’s public knowledge now, I don’t know my left from my right) may have not hindered me as a scholar, but it would have kept me from a number of things – being a Navigator, for one. Naviguesser. That’s me.

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