Went out on Friday night with Roy and a few beers turned into a few more and then a couple more. The world was put to rights and then some more. Great evening. As we left the bar, Roy proved that he wasn't really worthy of living in Texas but opting to walk home - yes leave the car and walk, in Houston. I should have realised it was going to go to shit.
We walked for a while and then parted our ways. Roy directed me to Dairy Ashford, which is a big long street with my hotel at one end. What could possibly go wrong? So I turned on to the street and started walking. I walked and then walked some more.
After about half an hour I was starting to think that Roy's perception of distance was skewd by driving all the time. After an hour I was getting seriously peeved. There was not to many people around and those that were either looked scared or very dodgy, or both.
After about two hours I had a sudden dawning flash of realisation. I pulled out my phone and got a map on the internet which proved what I had just realised - I had been walking in the wrong direction.
I have the sense of direction of a fridge!
So at that point I went to a garage and managed to call a cab. Eventually made it home at 5am!
Next day when I was out in the car I clocked the distance... 7 miles.
Hmmm Probably a bit more drunk than I had thought. At least I was sober when I got home.