The story of how a 20-minute walk took two and a half hours

For many years, I held an unwavering conviction.

The conviction that "I am a person who cannot use Google Maps."

Around the time I entered my fifties, the "things I can't do" list in my head steadily grew. Forgetfulness. Names of people not coming to mind. The moment I reach the second floor, I forget what I came up for. At the top of that impressive list, Google Maps reigned supreme.

After all, I have a track record. It happened about five years ago, when I was traveling in Osaka.

I was trying to go to a hair salon. According to the map, it was a twenty-minute walk to my destination. Twenty minutes is like a stroll. I set off in high spirits.

And two and a half hours later, I was still wandering the streets of Osaka.

Somewhere along the way, I had lost track of even where I was walking. I was looking at the map screen properly. Even though I was looking, I didn't understand. To begin with, I didn't even know which way the map was facing. When I turned right, the arrow moved too. It was probably trying to be helpful, but I was just spinning around in circles along with the arrow.

Since I was traveling, there was no one I could contact. Even though it was autumn, I was drenched in sweat, and my legs felt like lead.

At my wit's end, I called out to a security guard standing at the entrance of a building parking lot.

Excuse me... where am I?

I wasn't asking for directions. I was asking for my current location. An adult clutching a smartphone, asking a human being for their current location. It was a defeat for technology. No, perhaps it was me who was defeated, not the technology.

The security guard told me the way to the station, and I decided to go back to the start. If this were the Game of Life, it would be the "Return to Start" square.

And so, the hair salon I finally arrived at was—right near the hotel where I was staying.

Right near it. It took me two and a half hours to arrive in the neighborhood of my hotel.

Even so, when they told me, "We can cut your hair," I was so happy I almost cried. Sitting in the chair with my leaden legs, looking at my sweaty self in the mirror, I thought: I will never use a map again.

Come to think of it, we moved house after that. The new place was full of things I didn't know left from right about. I didn't know where the supermarket was, what the trash disposal rules were, or which road led where—I didn't know a single thing. I thought, is my "things I can't do" list going to flare up again?

However, that was not the case.

Living there every day, I started to understand little by little. If you turn that corner, there's that shop. This day of the week is for this type of trash. Things I would have learned in one go when I was young took five times. Ten times. But if you do it ten times, you learn it.

To return to the story, I've recently started to understand Google Maps a little, too. I think it's partly because the specifications have changed and become more user-friendly. I think so, but that's probably not all there is to it. After getting lost many times and spinning around in circles with the arrow many times, I've somehow learned how to get along with it.

The "absolute" in "absolutely impossible" might be looser than I thought. It might just be impossible the first time, but by the tenth time, you might actually be able to do it.

Well, that said, if I get lost in Osaka again, I think I'll look for a security guard. Those people are more reliable than Google Maps.
*The manga was drawn using the Shin-Usami style.

If we are meeting for the first time, I introduce myself here.

"Moving in your 60s is 90% momentum!"

This is a record of how I reviewed my belongings and organized my life to be more compact when I moved into a smaller room.

I have compiled the changes in my life from my 60s onwards into a book.
Please take a look if you'd like.

▼Amazon Kindle
"Moving in your 60s is 90% momentum!"