I recently started at a new college in a part of the country I'd never really been to before. The college itself is on the outskirts of the town, a town which I'd been into perhaps twice and both times in the car. It would be fair to say that I couldn't have drawn you a precise map, or even any map at all.

But because I'm meant to be all grown up and capable, I arranged a doctor's appointment during a college day and casually informed my mother that I would walk to the surgery, allow an unknown woman to puncture my skin and collect my blood in a bottle in the name of medicine, and then I would walk back in time to catch the second half of my Law class.

You can probably guess the punch line already, but I'm going to tell it to you because to be honest it's not a very good story without it.

I set off as soon as my first lesson finished, and wandered rather aimlessly around the housing estate that surrounds the college until I happened upon a sign directing pedestrians into the town centre. Glad of some help, I set off rather more purposefully in the direction it was pointing.

Now I don't want to give you the impression that the people responsible for putting up signs in my area are of less than average intelligence, but it would not be too inaccurate, I would imagine, to say that they probably never thought of visiting the area before they drew a line across a map to denote the new footpath. I followed the little blue arrows that were sporadically dotted on lamposts along several winding streets, through a car park, over a disused railway sporting an exciting cacophony of graffitti and through a gap in a rusty metal fence, emerging in the car park of a ramshackle garage. Thankfully I could see the looming roof of one of the numerous supermarkets peeking out from across the road, so I headed towards that as a reference point.

Remember when I told you that the two times I'd been into town, I'd been driven? And also that there's a high probability that the people who design footpaths around here haven't ever left their offices? It's true for roads as well. My bus route home from college, just to go on a tangent, passes the same fish and chip shop twice as it loops around the town centre in a rather pointless circle (there aren't actually any bus stops on this circle, it's just for fun). I think my daily bus might be a major contributor towards the town's greenhouse gas emissions.

Well anyway, back to the story. Because I'd never attempted to get to the doctor's surgery on foot before, I decided to play it safe and walk beside the roads so that I couldn't possibly get lost. So I struck out again towards what I thought was the road the doctor's surgery lay on.

It wasn't. In fact I think I passed the supermarket three times before I eventually noticed the railway station (no longer in use, of course. Nothing so helpful as a way to make like a tree from here) and realised that I was going the wrong way. Obviously I had already realised that, but now I knew which way wasn't the wrong way, if you see what I mean.

Eventually I found the surgery, and actually I was early for my appointment (I've had enough experience of my inability to find my way out of a wardrobe to know that leaving plenty of time is a must in these situations). I waited for ooh gosh ages before I got called and then it took literally half a minute to get the blood taken out of my arm. I couldn't help feeling it was a bit of an anti climax really, although I did get a vivid green bruise almost immediately.

Is that enough drama and excitement? If so, I'd close this window now because I've not even got started yet.

I didn't get lost coming out of the surgery, but that's about the extent of my geographical brilliance. I thought I was on home turf now because my bus in the mornings, once it has looped around the town and checked all its favourite shops are still open, travels past the surgery and then turns left towards the college.

Or so I thought. I was walking fairly confidently down the road visualising the route in my head, because I wanted to get back quickly and go to Law, and there was definitely a left turn, a short straight and then a right turn past a pub called the Golden Unicorn or the Unicorn Inn or something else to do with unicorns. Couldn't be simpler, and I did it every morning anyway so I'd recognise the road.

I did. I genuinely did recognise the road. I turned left just before the sweet shop and made little pleased noises of recognition at the houses and the cars as I passed them. The trouble is that all the houses look the same on a housing estate, and in fact on most housing estates. It took a while but by the time I'd come full loop and emerged back on the main road, a few hundred yards further along, I realised I'd taken the wrong turning.

So I carried on along the main road. Distances always seem shorter on buses, I reasoned, and when I came to the real turning I'd recognise it immediately. That probably sounds rather familiar to you now.

By the time I accepted that I was in the wrong place, there was no way I would get back in time for my lesson even if I miraculously knew the route and ran all the way. And I didn't know the route. I had kept walking, convinced that I was about to round a bend and realise where I was, but when I came to the back of a sign facing the opposite way which, on closer inspection, was welcoming drivers to the town, I realised I had walked all the way across the town and out the other side without coming close to my college.

I did what all sensible girls do when they're lost in a town they barely know. I leaned against a farm yard wall (lots of those round here, which is another reason I thought I recognised the place), got out my phone and rang the college reception.

The woman who answered is actually an angel, planted there by some higher power who had foreseen this day. With only the minimum of laughter at how hopeless I was, she quickly got me to describe the area and worked out where I was, told me to stay put and, the cream on the cake, jumped in her car and drove to fetch me.

We got back to the college just in time for me to go to my lesson and apologise for having missed all but five minutes of it. When I described the place I'd ended up at to some of my new friends they all either had a good chuckle or gasped with amazement at how terrible I was at geography. You've got to remember that these people grew up in this area. I had just moved a hundred miles.

So here's the map I found of my route back to college from the doctor's, helpfully labelled for your amusement and blurred for my safety. Please don't laugh too much.