The only place I've ever been properly mazed was - of all places - Bloomsbury, which is not at all particularly difficult to negotiate. It's also an area I'm very familiar with.
My excuse at the time was that I was incredibly tired. I'd just worked two or three unplanned overnighters, had virtually no sleep in that time, and was also coming down with flu like symptoms. I was trying to get from just east of the British Museum to Euston Station, which is a very straightforward journey, and no distance, and I'd done the route - or very close to it - many times before.
But I got stuck in a loop. It was dark and raining and rush-hour. I knew exactly where I was going, but I kept getting it wrong and would find myself back were I'd already been without really knowing how. I can visualise the journey now, and realise that for some reason I was allowing myself to be pulled westward even though I knew it was not the direction I needed.
It is possibly one of the most disconcerting experiences I've ever had - and I'd compare it to some of the descriptions I've read of people getting 'stuck' in fairy raths and the like.
