I’M NOT graced with a fantastic sense of direction, but even I was mortified to get lost in a motorway service station.

What’s worse is that I regularly stop at that particular one en route across the border, so I should be able to navigate it with my eyes shut. However, I quickly realised as I watched the confused procession of vehicles driving around in random circles that I wasn’t the only one a bit baffled.

When I’d finally made it to the car park, via the lorry park (I swear I took my life in my hands there), I figured out just why so many of us were going wrong. Some clever little sausage had painted double white dashed lines all the way across the road instead of just half way across, making it appear like a give way junction for vehicles exiting only.

If you’ve been driving for a number of hours and are desperate for the loo, trying to figure out the terrible service station signage in the dark is not a fun task.

It’s not much better in daylight either – these places are notorious for their appallingly bad signs that seem to be haphazardly stuck arrows pointing in various directions. It’s always a surprise to me when I get it right and manage to find my way back on to the motorway. I’m convinced it’s a conspiracy plot to keep us buying sweets and drinks that are twice as expensive as normal, never mind the obligatory visit to the Burger King counter.

Yes, I know we try to tell ourselves it doesn’t count as it’s in the middle of nowhere and really it’s the only thing to eat, but let’s be honest that’s a bit of a lie.

Anyway, waddling away from a Jamie Oliver nightmare and back to awful signage, the road signs in Leeds bamboozle me too. It’s somewhere I try not to drive to often, mainly due to the fact I haven’t a clue where I’m meant to be headed, or what lane I’m meant to be in. A sign saying York placed randomly on a roundabout does not constitute an adequate direction.

Although it may not matter much to me anymore as I have to confess that Santa brought me a sat-nav. Now, I am fully aware that on this very column I derided and ranted against the things and adamantly swore I’d never get one. Ahem, well, I suppose I now have to eat my own words, because so far it’s got me everywhere I’ve told it I want to go and I’m loathe to admit that I’m very impressed with it.

I’m even tempted, now that I’ve tried it out a couple of times, to tackle Leeds and if it gets me to my chosen destination then I might just possibly be converted to the way of the sat-nav. However, there is a little voice in my head telling me not to be taken in by its shiny screen and technological magic. That little voice which says it’s all fun and games now, but when you are headed towards the river don’t say I never warned you.

Despite my almost instant happiness with my new gadget, I’m inclined to listen to that voice, so clearly my natural aversion to technology is still hanging on in there. I am dubious of every unknown turn the delightfully posh woman tells me to take, yet pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t lead me the wrong way down a one-way street.

But perhaps my inner sense of direction isn’t the best thing to rely on either, as I mentioned above, being able to find my way is not one of my natural gifts. So maybe a combination of the two (keeping a map handy at all times) is the best course of action.

No doubt that if it does lead me up the garden path (perhaps literally – you never know) I will be back again mocking their knowledge and ranting about how ridiculous it is that more and more people rely on them when travelling not only in this country but abroad as well.

That is until the next time I am lost in deepest, darkest Lincolnshire and cursing the fact that, in a huff, I’ve left my sat-nav abandoned and gathering dust in the house.