It’s a matter of growing accustomed to the sequence, its ever-evolving Now. Things will happen, the looked-for crossing, essential lamp post, scent of the greengrocer on the corner will turn up. If you let it. It occurred to me, that navigation is sequential map making. Already, my memory operates differently: it will present me with a string of events that has to be right in its entirety. Missing links from a chain of occurrences will cause me to explore, to backtrack in order to find clues and pointers that will once again make my sequence whole. Such sequences are made up of all I may perceive: all those elements produce a sequential route. Not so much a map, as that is a spatial representation, bird’s eye view, so to speak. This is different: the feeling is one of physical well-being in following a successful route, where all sequential elements are in place. If, however, elements are missing, an unease sets in, prompting me to re-align to the route I was following. At first, I thought this must preclude wandering, but this, I found, is not entirely true. Routes, once learned, can be varied upon, expanded, if I anchor myself sufficiently to a first point of departure. I suppose, I’m doing dead reckoning, establishing my position as derived from a first known position. It’s remarkable how much these practices have already become part of how I operate. I used to be confused by being on buses, because being on one would cut entire chunks out of my sequences. Now even busses can become sequential elements.
The greatest revelation was a visit to the museum of three dimensional maps (plans reliefs). Although most of these are kept under glass, there is a small part of the collection that is available to touch. I recommend touching Paris to anyone. We were staying near Bastille, and that was the area I could study by touch. I still marvel at the effect it had on my navigation. Apparently, spatial representation is not to be discounted…