I was on holiday with my grand parents, Jill and Bob, and we decided to visit bath ( not an object that you fill with water to wash yourself; the city)

We left the Swan hotel (where we were staying) I was appointed by Jill, who is as sweet as the harmonies of spring, to be in charge of making sure we were going the right way; but Bob didn’t agree. He said something along the lines of; “I know where I’m going, I don’t need a map. In my day you didn’t need a map, I know England like the back of my hand; I’ve driven to bath before, you know” Eventually, after a long debate between them, Bob won the argument and despite the fact that I had told him he was going the wrong way 6 times, (each time he’d chuckle and say “kids these days”) he insisted that he was taking a short cut. After a while we arrived … at The Swan’s car park.
From this moment on I gave him directions.