El Camino de Santiago Day -1
Let the shoosting begin!
Double the pride, double the fall — indeed. Well said, you metal singing, lower-Sith fuck.
I’ve been waiting for this.
I devised a system to get out of the door quickly before I fell asleep last night. I set out my next day’s clothes along with my toilitreies. I left my battery and my phone charging. I slept cuddled up to my backpack, with my valuables in my fanny pack. I woke up this morning, gathered my things, tacked my still-drying clothes (hand washed for the first time in my life last night, in the shower) to my backpack when I realized my fanny pack was wide open with my passport hanging out and my wallet missing. I tore up my top bunk loud enough that I heard 6:30AM rustling below, which prompted me to then wake up my bleary eyed, half-naked bunk mate to check if my wallet had fallen into his domain. It hadn’t, but I sure would like to lolercoaster. Anyway, I tell myself to remain calm, and before I miss my train to find my possibly stolen wallet, I should take out all my stuff. I had just finished emptying my bag, ready to hit the XXXXX buttons when I found it tucked behind my sleeping bag.
Shouts out to my parents for all those years of Spanish education. I find myself totally capable of conversing freely, explaining myself, and even of understanding folks speaking quickly — though the dialects do throw me. I’m not able to pick up words that are outside of my vocabulary. There are a lot of local versions of even simple words. They look and sound like the words I know, but I’m not quick enough to understand the, on the spot and if the speaker is verbulating quickly, I lose that word. Usually when I stop a speaker to ask a question, they will explain again to me (at which point I usually get it) and subsequently launch back into rapid-speech lol.
Ive always thought to myself, and subsequently read in Dale Carnegie’s work, that the treatment of service workers reflects a persons quality of character. Lemme just say, watch me and you’ll see that I might just suck a server’s dick off. I try to be the best thing in each of their days. I am courteous, considerate, and I hope I can share a human connection. I want them to feel like a person and not a machine. I can only imagine someone having the worst day of their life in service and operating the courtesy machine. I am thinking about that person and their happiness always. It’s especially pronounced when I work with an older server. I feel sad. You should kick back in your later years and do what you want. If you want to work, that’s fine too. But if you’re in service and you’re older, you are going to get a premium service from me right back. I might just suck your dick off.
My above statement was just put to the test. Hours have passed, and Ive discovered that my train from Barcelona to Pamplona continues onto my next destination, San Sebastián. Instead of dismounting, locating the bus stop, and taking that mode of transportation, I’d rather stay on the train until San Sebastián. I could have some more time in this island town, and maybe even get to St. Pied to Port earlier. I flagged down multiple employees to buy a new ticket. I was forwarded onto a conductor of sorts, who said he’d come find me later (I think). We approached Pamplona and I thought —okay, I need to find that guy and buy a new ticket before this situation goes south. I considered trying to sneak by, but I’m in another country and I don’t want to get caught up in anything.
I find the conductor, and he goes Ah - aha, okay lets get this done. He asks for my ticket. I show my ticket and he goes — Oh, no... this is fraud. I’m confused. He doubles down and says my ticket is fraudulent. I’m like why? He says I have two promos applied to my ticket, and I qualified for neither. I should have never been let on the train in Barcelona. I ask what discounts I was given. One was a generic promo (as far as I know) and the other was a family discount. As in, I am traveling with family. Obviously, I am not. I apologized and he said that wasn’t good enough. I asked him if he intended to kick me off, and he said he had to. I cited my poor Spanish, and explained that I had trouble navigating the website. He said my claim was still dubious. I asked if I could buy a ticket onto San Sebastián, and after some consideration, he did allow me to purchase a new ticket. I don’t know if he was attempting to scam me because he asked how I intended to travel to San Sebastián. I said bus, and he said the bus station was far from train. I said I had time and that didn’t matter to me. At that point, I asked to buy a ticket again and he did some calculations and charged me more than I had been ready to pay for a new ticket. I verified that he wasn’t charging me for what I should have paid with intent to kick me off as a fraud, at the next station. He said the ticket was for San Sebastián now, and I paid. I apologized again and asked him to explain what I had done wrong. He said that I marked that I had 2406819393 children with me to apply for the discount. I said that was my cell number, and that just frustrated him. I took my ticket and we separated.
I felt no opportunity to express great respect for this man, though I just wrote about respecting the elderly. I didn’t face a choice. I felt more like a trapped animal, accused. I was and am still a bit mad. Mostly embarrassed and wondering if I was charged fairly, and then if I should have just refused and taken the bus. That’s probably not a good idea because that would have opened me up to whatever consequences followed for my accidental fraud. I did read through the ticket and he was right about the family discount. I may have qualified for the first promo discount. There was no information available on that.
I did not act like an ass, but I think to other times I’ve acted up when elders put me under a thumb. Once, I actually did refuse to pay on the London Tube. I was taking a new route and I searched high and low for a manner of payment. When I finally found it, it was so hidden, I refused to pay. I told myself I would not pay and blame it on their poor design. When, upon leaving, I was flagged, I feigned ignorance. Unluckily, the inspector was nearby and he charged me, regardless of my story. I find that in Europe I cannot wriggle out of anything. People treat me as if they’ve caught a petty criminal, right or wrong.
That inspector, I was not nice to. I’m pretty sure I cursed directly at him, something I’ve never done otherwise to a person performing their job. Maybe I have, but this guy stands out in my mind. He was really mad. I thought he might attack me, but he did not. I refused to pay the fine, and he said he’d report me to the police. I walked away and he did report me to the police. I received a demand in the mail for me to pay an increased fine. Here’s hoping beareaucracy breaks down in England or that I never get caught on the tube there again, or Ill have a problem.
I’m not perfect. It’s easy to talk, but harder to walk. A nice metaphor, given my intent to walk 500 miles starting tomorrow morning. Being a human, with our emotions, is hard. Maybe we should just all be machines. What’s the purpose of all our emotions? Can Ipoint the finger at capitalism and say it pitted me against that inspector? I think not, because I did try to cheat. So, now Ive been pegged twice for cheating but only once was it true. Both were related to money. In once instance, I did wrong in the other I did not. The time I did wrong, I paid nothing. The time my mistake was honest, I paid a fee. That’s balance, I reckon. Growth, too. At least in the vacuum of this conversation, it’s growth. Younger me may just have tried to evade notice and perhaps even feign sleep and get to San Sebastián that way. Given that nobody has checked my ticket once, I might have gotten there. Of course, had I been caught, my lie would have then had that horrible false discount attachment, and I’d have been super fucked.
I admit that I was too gregarious in posting that Count Dooku GIF above. Double the pride, double the fall, much, eh? That’s what happens when you lift others’ famous last words lol... History repeats itself. Double the pride, double the fall. Telegraphed flawlessly. 10/10 would do business again. For someone who claims not to feel or celebrate pride, I’m sure full of a lot of shit.
Anyway, I did survive with only a small scar in the way of a fee. I’m looking outside of the train, listening to 2666, alternating between the English and then Spanish audiobook. My Spanish has come in handy supremely. This is why my itinerary in Spain is so complex. I know I can navigate here between my adaptability, familiarity with Europe, and my mastery of the language. In Morocco, I’m keeping things way simpler. Tangier, Fes, Marrakech. Major cities with everything pre-booked. I’m looking out the window of this Renfe train and I see sooooo many walking paths. Ive even seen some people, ostensibly men, walking by themselves. I saw one man with a big manual camera. I noted that none had day packs like mine. They must be on shorter adventures. It seems Spain has an extensive walking network, perhaps linked to their extensive but not so distant pastoral history? They’re well maintained, in any case. I think this walk is going to be fantastic, and hopefully I’ve taken my humbleness lesson to heart RE pride. In the words of Yoda..
YOU WILL... YOU WILL...
Well, pulling into San Sebastián. It’s VERY pretty. Huge rolling forested hills with villas dotting the landscape. One has an ENORMOUS boulder in the back. What kind of weirdo built a villa on that sort of geological feature?
I feel like I’m that flitty-minded creature from Animal Crossing you meet on the train, who variously introduces you to the game and then talks about random crap. Lol. Then stops talking once you’ve arrived at your animal crossing town. Worse things to become, I’spose.
Baluraque — inconsequential
Vadulaque — inconsequential
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