Trip to Massachussetts - Day Two, Installment Two

We were very, very tired by the end of that Freedom Trail hike. And then we hiked back to the subway and rode with lots of people speaking lots of languages, all of whom seemed perfectly at home on buses and subways and all of whom knew instinctively that I was not cool.
And we got back to our car.
Here is where things get dicey.
We are tired and hungry and very, very thirsty. There do not seem to be “exits” from any roads where you can just get a drink or something. And it’s dark. And you know what? Following my Google map backwards worked just fine (retracing our original route) until we got back in to Lowell, where we’re staying. See, we are right in the heart of downtown. And lots of the streets are one-way. And none of them are laid out in a nice, neat, suburban-style grid. And we got lost. Way lost. Scary lost. I called my friend, Mr. Technology Tzar, who proceeded to look up my location and “help” me get back to his place. Only, he “helped” me into a circle the first time. I’m panicking a little bit by now because I’m hitting intersections before he can tell me what to do with them and, did I mention it’s dark? And we’re hungry? And we were thirsty, like, three hours ago by now? And sleepy? Not to give him a bad rap. He found us on his map and did get us back to our place. Which was very admirable and possibly even heroic.
But what about dinner? Lots of lovely cafes downtown. Probably nothing that a food-allergy person like myself can expect to find a meal, though. And I was not in the mood to take chances. And Andrew had seen a Cracker Barrel when we first came into town. Did my friend know where the Cracker Barrel was? Hm. Yes. And he did give us good directions. Only, we are still hungry and thirsty and it’s still dark and it’s about 8:45 PM and one spot kind of veered off to the right and wasn’t well-marked (I haven’t yet mentioned that the main problem seems to be a lack of street signs. There are precious few of them) and I missed it. And had to turn around and wound up in a scary part of town again. And started crying. And Andrew started freaking out. So I turned around tried to find that spot again and then the road split around a block and we were on a one-way street. I almost called my poor friend again, but we prayed (hard) and found a sign pointing us to the right highway. Which we followed. And celebrated.
And then discovered we were heading south instead of the north we should have been heading. Sheesh!
Exit.
Grab phone.
Consider asking for help and directions.
Who am I kidding? I’m not somebody who likes to ask for help.
Ah! Behind me was a sign pointing the right direction.
You have never seen two people more grateful to find a Cracker Barrel. A bastion of comfort in a sea of strangeness and spider webby streets.
We ate and, since I knew there was no grocery store anywhere around, we went to the gas station next door and bought breakfast for the next morning.
We got home so late and so exhausted and so relieved to find our way (Oh, yes, we did get turned around a couple of times on our way home, too) and find our bed.
And we slept.
But not long enough.