“If I have but one dream in my heart, it is to go on the Camino by electric scooter.” - Fabian König
Katie hobbled to the cafe (the same one where we’d had a drink the night before, the scene of the crime). Our plan was to eat and call a taxi for her. She was going to ride to the next town and rest in a hotel. Fabian was meeting us at the cafe.
We passed a sign for “Shalom” acupuncture.
“Call my people!” Katie said.
I called them. They were booked for the next week and a half, but they called me back with a recommendation for a physical therapist in the next town. The cafe worker said she didn’t know any taxi companies (which is odd). I tried calling a taxi but nobody answered. Katie hobbled over to a hotel across the street where they called a cab for her. She came back to the cafe to get her stuff. Fabian jumped up to get her backpack.
“No I got it,” she said.
He ignored her and lifted her backpack onto her.
“It’s like your little girl is going off to college,” she said with a laugh.
Gimpy and hard headed, but always funny.
Once she was in the cab, we started walking out of Pontevedra toward Caldas del Reis.
I don’t remember what sparked it, but Fabian and I started taking about homophobia.
“I don’t like the term ‘homophobic,’” he said. “I don’t think it captures what the phenomenon truly is.”
“It’s amazing you say that. I remember telling my grad school friends that during the first year of my PhD,” I said. “I’ve never heard anyone else say that. But people who are against homosexuality aren’t afraid of them. It’s an obligation to their church or something. At least, when I was homophobic, that’s what it was for me and the folks in my circle.”
“Yeah, there should be another word,” he said.
“It’s like an institutional homophobia, not an interpersonal one,” I agreed.
“No no, too many words. Is there a word in English for being an enemy of something?”
“An antagonist? A homoantagonist?”
“Sure, I like that better,” he said.
We continued walking for a while. After about 30 min, I said, “We could’ve just said ‘anti-homo.’”
“No, that doesn’t work in German,” he said.
“We don’t say “anti.”
“Unless it’s antibabilillen?” I asked.
He laughed, “Yes.”
The route split several times, and we frequently went to the left. There are several versions of the Portuguese route. Also, since so much of this trail is now on asphalt roads, there are more scenic detours. Since I make everything a song, I have started singing Beyoncé’s “to the left, to the left,” every time we turn left (which is pretty often…I’m SO FUN TO TRAVEL WITH).
“When in doubt, take the Beyoncé route.” - Dr. Kallschmidt
To be fair, I am not the only one obnoxiously singing. I have finally found people who also make everything a song. Katie, Fabian, and I have all had earworms of Beyoncé, Shakira, Gwen Stefani, Celine Dion, Disney, and of course…Milkshake.
While in a communal shower in Tui, I serenaded Katie with:
(To the tune of Shakira’s ‘Whenever, Wherever.’)
"Whenever, wherever, we’re all in the albergue together. I’ll be there and you ll be near, cuz we’re in bunk beds dear."
Fabian and I passed through a park that had pilgrim monuments and writing in Spanish. One was about…SINGING.
The bottom of that pillar, Google Translate said is,
"Who
Walk alone
Can you get there?
Go with me
Go further."
So, obviously, I started singing....
"I start walking your way, you start walking mine. We meet in the middle, 'neath that old Georgia piiiiiine. We gain a lot of ground, cuz we both give a little. Ain't no road too long when we meet in the middle."
...in an obnoxious country voice.
"I am picturing an old man..." Fabian said.
"With leathery gator skin, no teeth, and a straw in his mouth?"
"Yes."
God bless America.
We continued through the park...QUIETLY.
We passed another pilgrim, and I gave the usual, "Buen Camino!"
"Oh?" The pilgrim woman turned and said.
"You're not going to sing a few bars?"
I guess I project my voice better than I think I do. I'm just kidding. I know I'm loud. I'm just not self-conscious.
"Nah, I think he's over it," I said and pointed to Fabian.
"We don’t mind," she said.
"What? I'm not over it?" Fabian said.
We continued until the last 3 km where we decided to stop at a cafe. I connected to wifi and checked on Katie. She has arrived safely and found a hotel, but had no luck getting in touch with the physical therapist. She said she just wanted to rest and stretch.
Fabian ordered some Spanish tortilla and I picked up a sparkling water. I laughed because "Highway to Hell" was playing.
"Speaking of homo-antagonism," I said. "It was an internet joke a few months ago that the same people who are upset with Sam Smith [a gay man] dressing as a devil for his song Unholy, are the same people who love this song. Both mention hell but only one is by a gay man and trans woman."
"Today feels like a highway to hell with this heat," a German woman at another table piped in. We laughed and introduced ourselves. Turns out she had met Katie a day or so before. I texted Katie that I met a German woman who knew her.
"Which one? There are so many Germans here," she texted back.
TRUE.
This woman was named Nadia. She and Fabian chatted for a while in German. I interrupted briefly to ask Fabian for a cough drop (the Camino cough is real). Nadia was drinking beer, and while I didn't understand the German, I was inspired to go get some wine.
"Cheers to cough drops and vino blanco!" I said. We toasted.
One glass turned into two for Fabian and I. Nadia kept buying beer, and then she went in to pay. She came out with a beer to go.
"He [the cafe worker] give it to me for free!" She said.
"What?! Did you flash him?" I asked.
She didn't understand. Fabian translated.
She laughed. "Noooo, you think I am crazy but I am just Nadia." She left the cafe, drinking her beer to go.
We were inspired, and went into the cafe to pay and get our beers-to-go. We didn't flash him, and we didn't get free beers. Coincidence? I think not.
"You know in German we have a term for this," Fabian said. "It is called a foot beer."
"Oh, so a foot bus and a foot beer?" I asked.
"Yes, and our term for foot beer is the same one for foot fungus."
What a language.
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