Faith and Sheila
I take a while to learn to trust people, and I didn't immediately trust Satnav Sheila, so I printed out my route from Google Maps before embarking on this morning's journey to Barnsley. I had followed her advice once before, and she'd correctly guided me around one of the nicer parts of North Leeds, but nevertheless I didn't feel happy without a map.
Because of this innate suspicion, I didn't quite trust the postcode I'd been given for the venue where I was working, either, so I looked on its website. And this instinct proved correct - I'd been given the wrong postcode.
However, armed with the correct postcode, and having learned the tricky switch-the-satnav-on bit, I set off, guided by Sheila's soothing, reassuring and authoritative tones.
She was calm and patient and didn't seem at all rattled by the rush hour traffic. Her directions were perfect - though I have to say I did already know the way to the M1.
All went well until Junction 37, the turnoff for Barnsley.
The signposts at the first roundabout were big and clear.
LEFT = BARNSLEY
RIGHT = MANCHESTER
"Take the fourth exit," said Sheila.
I thought for a moment. There was no way I was going to take a turning labelled Manchester when I was going to Barnsley, and my map said go left, and the signpost said go left.
"Shan't!" I said and turned left.
Sheila thought for a moment but didn't take offence.
"In four hundred yards, turn left," she said in measured tones.
She was now following my route so I was pleased with her. And she sounded quite pleased, too: as I drove through the gates of the venue she said "Destination!" in tones of distinct smugness.
At the end of the day I pressed "Home" and Sheila tried to take me back the way she'd tried to bring me, and this time she was remarkably insistent.
"When it is possible, make a U-turn" she said.
"No way," I said, and carried on, and she reluctantly brought me back the way I'd come, and we got home with no further problems.
I still haven't got to the bottom of the counter-intuitive way that she was trying to take me. However, if I'd had faith, I'm sure it would have worked.
For those of you who are more technical than I am, Sheila is a Navman, and she was a great Christmas present, thank you, Stephen. For anyone who does a lot of driving, especially to new places, I think she'd be invaluable. I can see that, in future times, the idea that we drove about the country whilst trying to glance at the map on the passenger seat from time to time will seem very strange indeed.
Because of this innate suspicion, I didn't quite trust the postcode I'd been given for the venue where I was working, either, so I looked on its website. And this instinct proved correct - I'd been given the wrong postcode.
However, armed with the correct postcode, and having learned the tricky switch-the-satnav-on bit, I set off, guided by Sheila's soothing, reassuring and authoritative tones.
She was calm and patient and didn't seem at all rattled by the rush hour traffic. Her directions were perfect - though I have to say I did already know the way to the M1.
All went well until Junction 37, the turnoff for Barnsley.
The signposts at the first roundabout were big and clear.
LEFT = BARNSLEY
RIGHT = MANCHESTER
"Take the fourth exit," said Sheila.
I thought for a moment. There was no way I was going to take a turning labelled Manchester when I was going to Barnsley, and my map said go left, and the signpost said go left.
"Shan't!" I said and turned left.
Sheila thought for a moment but didn't take offence.
"In four hundred yards, turn left," she said in measured tones.
She was now following my route so I was pleased with her. And she sounded quite pleased, too: as I drove through the gates of the venue she said "Destination!" in tones of distinct smugness.
At the end of the day I pressed "Home" and Sheila tried to take me back the way she'd tried to bring me, and this time she was remarkably insistent.
"When it is possible, make a U-turn" she said.
"No way," I said, and carried on, and she reluctantly brought me back the way I'd come, and we got home with no further problems.
I still haven't got to the bottom of the counter-intuitive way that she was trying to take me. However, if I'd had faith, I'm sure it would have worked.
For those of you who are more technical than I am, Sheila is a Navman, and she was a great Christmas present, thank you, Stephen. For anyone who does a lot of driving, especially to new places, I think she'd be invaluable. I can see that, in future times, the idea that we drove about the country whilst trying to glance at the map on the passenger seat from time to time will seem very strange indeed.
posted by Daphne at 6:29 pm
3 Comments:
My Navman is not called Sheila but she is also very patient when I tell her I am not going to go the way she suggests and when I ignore her instruction to make a U-turn as soon as possible.
However, she does often say "Destination on the right" (or left as the case may be) when I know the destination is to be found by turning round, taking a left turn, going several hundred yards and then it will be on the opposite side from where she said.
This is particularly common when using postcodes in the route finder and particularly in rural areas (although it has happened to me in Leeds). Navmans don't always take you to the correct address by postcode, probably because they are only going on the first two thirds of the postcode which may apply to several different addresses. To be sure you need to give them a more exact address.
Anyway, I am glad you have Sheila now, but I would still do your map checking thing too.
It's a shame you didn't take the 4th exit at J37. You'd have driven right past my house. I could have waved!
I go for TomTom myself - on some versions you can get different voices - John Clease being my personal favourite.
I have to say, though, that if more people used their common sense as well as the satnav, we might have less lorries, caravans etc. ending up stuck on muddy tracks in the middle of nowhere.
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