I must really look like I belong here, for a surprising number of people stop me on the street to ask directions. I estimate at least 10 times in the last week. Either that, or there is a widespread congenital defect relating to sense of bearing that is so bad people will even stop foreigners to ask for help.
On the way back from dinner with my parents and their friends, I was playing around with the gps/google maps combo of my new iPhone (yeah, it is buggy but super cool. I’m keeping it after all). I decided to look up directions and see which way it would tell us to get home from where we were on the north side of town. It was doing fairly ok until it made a less than optimal suggestion for a turn off the highway.
As you may have surmised by looking at the photo, there is no exit at this place. Google just told us to careen through the barrier, off an overpass, and land on the street below.