getting lost in hereford
so, last thursday at the festival, I was being very tired and unhelpful, so the stall organiser (bee) let me go home. She told me to catch the bus to hereford, and asked if I knew the way back to the house we were staying in from there. I'd been driven to it about a million times by now, so I said yes.
Big mistake. I got off the bus and ( i realise now) headed in exactly the wrong direction. The streets were like rabbit warrens, all filled with exactly the same semi-detached houses, with simmilar names- hilton street, portland street...on and on.
So, I started asking people for directions. Everyone told me a different way, naturally. The street we were staying in was tiny and (for some reason) hard to pronounce and hear. I ended up on the wrong side of town, and walked for at least an hour, solidly, finding my way back to the station.
So by this time I was tired, sweaty and emotional. Near the station was a big, empty looking graveyard. I sat on the step outside it, and cried.
I don't know how long I was there. It wasn't very long, but it felt like for ever. I heard a vague, australian- sounding voice above me saying " are you alright?"
when I looked up, a thin, pale woman with big insect-glasses was standing in front of me, looking vaguely concerned. I explained what had happened. she said she'd help me.
I was skeptical. I'd already asked so many people for directions, I assumed I'd be wondering around all night.But I got up and walked with her.
She asked in several shops for me. She asked passers by- a man with a bike, a man who turned out to be foriegn, an off duty fireman.
She stayed with me, making casual conversation, walking miles out of her way untill we'd found a road I recognised. It must've taken at least half an hour, probably more.
Once I'd got inside, I realised how amazingly kind she'd been. That had never happened to me before, ever. She had been a nice person, too. she hadn't been patronising, or over-talkative. she was just...nice.
She said her name was natalie. She was wearing a red, fleecy coat and a hat. she used to be a teacher, but was taking time off. she said she lived on the far side of town, but was here to find train times at the station. she's been coming back when she'd seen me.
I don't know why I'm really writing this, It's not like I want to find her again, or want to urge people to find her for me. I suppose I just wanted to point out that people sometimes care. That not everyone is that bad. That sometimes, strangers aren't bad people.
Big mistake. I got off the bus and ( i realise now) headed in exactly the wrong direction. The streets were like rabbit warrens, all filled with exactly the same semi-detached houses, with simmilar names- hilton street, portland street...on and on.
So, I started asking people for directions. Everyone told me a different way, naturally. The street we were staying in was tiny and (for some reason) hard to pronounce and hear. I ended up on the wrong side of town, and walked for at least an hour, solidly, finding my way back to the station.
So by this time I was tired, sweaty and emotional. Near the station was a big, empty looking graveyard. I sat on the step outside it, and cried.
I don't know how long I was there. It wasn't very long, but it felt like for ever. I heard a vague, australian- sounding voice above me saying " are you alright?"
when I looked up, a thin, pale woman with big insect-glasses was standing in front of me, looking vaguely concerned. I explained what had happened. she said she'd help me.
I was skeptical. I'd already asked so many people for directions, I assumed I'd be wondering around all night.But I got up and walked with her.
She asked in several shops for me. She asked passers by- a man with a bike, a man who turned out to be foriegn, an off duty fireman.
She stayed with me, making casual conversation, walking miles out of her way untill we'd found a road I recognised. It must've taken at least half an hour, probably more.
Once I'd got inside, I realised how amazingly kind she'd been. That had never happened to me before, ever. She had been a nice person, too. she hadn't been patronising, or over-talkative. she was just...nice.
She said her name was natalie. She was wearing a red, fleecy coat and a hat. she used to be a teacher, but was taking time off. she said she lived on the far side of town, but was here to find train times at the station. she's been coming back when she'd seen me.
I don't know why I'm really writing this, It's not like I want to find her again, or want to urge people to find her for me. I suppose I just wanted to point out that people sometimes care. That not everyone is that bad. That sometimes, strangers aren't bad people.