(Not*) Walking the Camino: Day 22
*Let me to start with a little caveat: Technically, I did walk the Camino today. The one in Palo Alto. The one that says “REAL,” so maybe I’m the one on the authentic journey, and the one in Spain is bullshit.
I’m just saying, “Maybe.”
Anyway, you don’t come to the Land of the Giants when the Dodgers are in town and not go to watch the baseball men.
Before leaving LA I borrowed Dad’s Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap . . . but I probably should have tried it on first.
At least it kept me from possibly getting assaulted in the parking lot.
A glorious day game under the sunshine and on the water, even better than my Camino walk.
After splitting the first two games of the series — an extra-innings pitchers’ duel and a 13–7 slugfest — the Dodgers spanked the Giants 10–2 in the rubber game, holding them to one-hit through six innings.
I also heard a sentence I’ve never heard before, when Ken said, “Time to break out the monocular.”
This is my second time seeing the great Shohei Ohtani live. The first time at Dodgers Stadium last year, where he went 0-for-3; and today he went 1-for-6, for a combined .111 batting average. I’m starting to think I’m bad luck for Shohei. If any Giants fans want to pay me to sit behind home plate for the upcoming four-day home stand in LA, get in touch, maybe we can work something out.
Also in keeping with authentic regional experiences, we enjoyed the finest Eye-talian offerings Buca di Beppo could offer. (If I say it was actually pretty good, will they take away my Italian passport?)
The ladies have landed in Sarria, a short, easy walk from Triscatela past corn fields and a pumpkin patch, so easy the Vikings likely invaded here too.
And this kid using a bicycle to power a blender making banana milkshakes. This alone makes the trip worthwhile.
Ann (and her friend Mary) finally arrived tonight . . .
. . . just in time for things to get weird: This is the view from their rooms, overlooking yet another ancient church and, as Amanda writes, “A mural of Lily Tomlin.” I choose to believe this is true.
And this local museum housed in a former prison. The masks are worn in an annual festival. Before that, they were presumably used to rob banks.
TOMORROW I’m off to visit my niece and family . . . and the ladies embark on the final leg of their (bullshit) Camino.