We were four new residents of Aix-en-Provence, with mobility issues.

We walked down the twisting path from la Pistache to catch the bus to an industrial park in the suburbs of Aix. Big box stores, factory outlets and 10 car dealerships side by side by side. We needed a car while in Aix, and I planned to drive away with one that day. I didn’t think it would be a difficult decision to make as 99% of all French cars were the same: compact, diesel, and ready to get scraped.

“You can’t buy this car,” said Sophie, pointing at a saucy blue number which looked like every other car we saw that day. We stood in the heat of the Peugeot dealership parking lot, trying to decipher the French acronyms posted in the window of the car we had decided to buy. “I don’t like the color.”

“What do you mean?” I said. “It’s blue. What’s wrong with that?”

“It doesn’t even have a GPS,” said Devon, squinting through the driver’s side window. “Let’s buy a different car.”

“It doesn’t have a GPS. So what?” I asked. “Do you know what life was like before there was GPS? We managed.”

“I know you’re joking,” said Devon. “There was always GPS.”

“Nice try, dad,” said Sophie. “Mom?”

“This is one of those rare occurrences when your father isn’t exaggerating.”

“Thank you, Carol, I guess. Anyway, your mom has heard this one, but there was no GPS when I went to Czechoslovakia with Nickipedia about 20 years ago. It was when I was a tour guide.”

“You were a tour guide in Czecho-whatever-you-said?” asked Devon.

“Not exactly. I was hired to check out the country for bike routes. Get it? Check out?”

“Brutal, dad,” said Sophie.

“They wanted me to bike around, taste the food, find all the good routes, and map it out for a future bike tour.  I didn’t want to go alone, and the Internet hadn’t been invented yet, so I took Nickipedia. But when we got there, we found out that communist Czechoslovakia, you know what communism is, don’t you? Anyway, the communists had no maps for sale. The lady at the tourist bureau told us, “maps are in deficit.” It may have been less of a printing problem and more that the Russians, who were ruling the country, decided that, “hey, if you don’t know how to get to a place, you have no business going there anyway.”

“Why were the Russians in charge of Czechoslovakia?” asked Sophie.

“Well, that’s a big question,” I said. “Let’s just say they were in charge of most of Eastern Europe when I was a kid. But when I was about 10, the Czechs were free and ran things for a while, but then the Russians decided to come back. The Czechs were so upset when the Russians invaded, they removed all the road signs in the country so the Russians would get lost. When Nickipedia and I got there 18 years later, they still hadn’t replaced the signs.”

“That doesn’t make sense, dad,” said Sophie. “If there weren’t any maps and no road signs, how could you plan the trip?”

“Nickipedia and I figured that out. Every train station, and these were tiny stations in the countryside, mostly falling apart, every train station had a framed map of the area around the station. So we’d bike from station to station, and at each stop I’d draw the map into my journal. That would give us enough information to bike to the next station.”

“That can’t be true, daddy,” said Devon. “You had a GPS, and you just don’t want to admit it.”

“No joke. And it was much more fun without a GPS.”

“If you stop this made-up story right now, we’ll let you buy the car,” said Devon.