Holmes parts the Red Sea

Day 21: Comillas ➡️ Pendules. DM: 24.4 mi

Today, at mile 17, Sol called me Elizabeth Holmes. She tells me we have the same smile. She described it as maniacal. 

To be fair, the circumstances were pretty grim. It was pouring rain, we were walking alongside a highway, and hadn’t stopped since breakfast. 

Sol, if you had read my blog before joining me, you would not be accusing me of false advertising. You’d probably also have reached the appropriate conclusion that — based on the number of unforced errors I’ve made on this trip — white collar crime is beyond me. I obviously don’t appreciate the Holmes comparison.  

Just put your rain jacket on, Sol! – I yell over my shoulder. 

I don’t have one! – she yells back. 

I do a double take. Weren’t we at the Santander Decathalon just two days ago? Didn’t we walk past a section with an incredible selection of rain jackets? 

I mean, she could have been frickin Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat.  

Sol also shared that she is very near-sighted and chooses not to wear contacts nor glasses when she walks. 

Between the two of us, it’s truly a case of the blind leading the blind out here. 

She rallied for the next several miles, though. Then, at mile 21, she requested that we take the “scenic route” along the coast. She had had a rough day, and so, even though it meant a longer route, I conceded. 

I was shouting her praises for convincing me to take the detour — the coastline views were dope — until we found ourselves at a fence. Staring through a herd of 50 gigantic cows at the fence on the other side. 

We both went silent. I start walking around, trying to scope out a place where there might be a break in the barbed wire. None exists. 

I turn to Sol — 

We can’t go over it. 

We can’t go under it. 

Oh no! 

We’ve got to go through it! 

Turns out hiking poles have many use cases. Need to scare a bunch of cattle away from a fence so that you can scale it and dash past them? Just let out some gutteral bellows a la Elizabeth Holmes and whack your poles together repeatedly. It does the trick.

They told me this Camino would be a pilgrimage but they didn’t tell me I’d be Moses parting the frickin Red Sea of cows. 

One minute later and we find ourselves on the other side of the fence with 50 cows throwing us some serious side eye. 

Elizabeth Holmes may be able to get away with multi billion fraud. But can she scare away a herd of cattle on a Spanish cliff side? Honestly, with that voice, probably.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: