“When Google Maps Got It Wrong”

and You Finally Found Something That Wasn’t on a Screen

They say technology made travel easier.
But what if ease is what made us forget?

You followed every blinking blue dot.
From Lagos to Calgary,
from Melbourne to Maryland.
The restaurants were well-rated.
The hotel had Wi-Fi in all rooms.
Your itinerary was color-coded.
Your camera roll? Perfect.

But your heart?
Still… restless.
Like it hadn’t actually gone anywhere.

Until that day
when your battery died
in a place that didn’t care for charging ports.

No more reviews.
No more directions.
Just dust,
sunlight,
and the sound of your breath
as you realized for the first time you had no idea where you were.

You asked a man selling oranges by the roadside.
He didn’t understand your words
but he understood your lostness.

So he walked.
And you followed.
No map. No app. No clue.
Just footsteps.

He took you down a narrow alley.
Past children playing barefoot.
Past walls that told stories in peeling paint.
And when he stopped,
he pointed at a weathered door with no sign,
and whispered in broken English:

“Here. You stay. Is home.”

Inside, a woman gave you rice and stew.
A boy handed you a note written in crayons.
The fan spun slowly.
The silence was loud.
And you felt something
you hadn’t felt in years:

Peace.

That night,
you didn’t check your phone.
You didn’t post.
You just were.

And in the stillness,
you finally understood:

Maybe it wasn’t about finding the right place.
Maybe it was about losing the need to know where you were at all.

Because Google Maps didn’t fail you.
It freed you.
From precision.
From perfection.
From the lie that every trip needs a plan.

Some places you only arrive at
when you stop searching.