One night I grabbed a backpack, a compass that I bought off a street vendor, and a stupid old map that said “Follow the stars.” I hit the highway without a destination, just because the sky looked like a glittering promise. Turns out I ended up in a tiny town that’s never on the map, got lost in a maze of alley cats and midnight street food, and by dawn I was standing in front of a giant stone statue that looks like a dragon. The locals laughed, gave me a free meal, and I wrote the whole thing on a napkin. No plan, just a craving for something weird, and that night turned into a story I still tell whenever someone asks about my best chaotic adventure.

Turns out the dragon’s stare was more about “go, don’t look back” than a myth. I learned that if you’re not afraid of the unknown, you’ll find the kind of moments people write about. Also, a napkin’s good enough for a story when you’ve got a good ear for people who’re willing to listen. And maybe, just maybe, you can survive a night in a town that’s never on a map if you keep your wits and your appetite sharp.

Thanks, I’ll keep the napkin handy and the compass loose. Who knows what the next detour hides?