The art of Getting Lost

Current location: Vladivostok, Russia

I'm a lousy tourist. I rarely have a schedule, sometimes I know nothing about a location upon arrival. I just go somewhere, look around, and maybe ask somebody what I should see and do.
And I somehow always end up in places where nobody goes. I mean not anybody. And with good reason.
I drag my feet to some weird back alley with my camera, taking pictures of piles of garbage or old tyres or what ever, and the locals are watching me like, "what the fuck is that wacko doing here?".
Like yesterday in Vladivostok, while trying to find an interesting angle to this bridge they are putting up in the centre, I ended up in the middle of the construction site. I took off and found myself on this back street with nobody there.

You take your pictures with Lenin, I'll just take photos of this dump I found.

 I was hot, tired, soaked in sweat and managed to kick my toe on the damned curb. Then, literally 25 seconds later, while I was damning myself for getting lost again, I turn a corner and find this little yard with all these old cannons and a tiny tank, a tiny submarine and one not so tiny torpedo boat.

Artillery

I know they used to put the short guys in the tank-crews, but come on!
This thing must have been operated by leprechauns, guarding their gold stashes.

 Sure it's probably on some guidebook or map, but I seldom use maps, and on this trip I absolutely refuse to carry a guidebook. And even if I do have a map, I only use it when I need to get somewhere, that is, when I know where I'm going, but as I normally have no idea where I'm going there's little point in using a map.
Most of the time my wandering yields little more than sore feet, sweaty ass and sunburn, but every now and then I get lucky and end up in a cool place I would otherwise have not gone to.