A Taste for Travel

“Well, not all travel goes as planned” -Bhakti

“Ahhhh!!!!!! Come back Mr. Bus!” -Jagger



*DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE SQUEEMISH AND IS NOT AN AFFILIATE POST FOR IMODIUM, OR INTENDED AS AN ADVERT FOR THAT PARTICULAR MEDICATION. THOUGH YOU SHOULD DEFINITLY GO BUY SOME BEFORE READING ON….

Just to dispel any illusions one might have about our traveling family, and the apparent perfect ease of our navigations… let us share with you the greatest musical we have ever created! (Also the only one, though we keep that quiet) Inspired by real life events! (Feel free to choose any tune you like for the songs.)

It all began on a sunny day in Valencia. We woke early and refreshed, to the songs of the birds as we excitedly headed to the train station to meet our tour bus for a grand visit on a boat through the longest underground river in Europe.

The day began like any other, some light banter from our guide as the bus crossed the majestic countryside of Spain heading into the little tourist spot called St. Josep, and as we rode through the countryside…

(Broadway style) “The hill’s go rolling by through the side window as we watched, we saw the great hillside as we watched the countryside”

We made fast friends with the older Brits on the bus who talked politics and football (soccer) the whole ride, and the friendly Mexican-American family that shared some tidbits about the language differences in Spain vs Mexico.

(Classic Rock) “Vale means, Vale means, “Okay” in Spain. Vale means, Vale means “I don’t care” in Mexico… Vale means, Vale means, “Okay” in Spain. Vale means, Vale means “I don’t care” in Mexico (drumming solo )”

We arrived in St Josep to find a tourist spot with gift shops and a few restaurants. Clearly the tour company has a deal with these spots, because we now had over an hour to get a bite to eat, play at the very small playground, and basically just wait. The day was bright and the sunny tables inviting. We hadn’t eaten much breakfast, so we settled in for a Fanta Limon and a Bocadilla (sandwich). Afterwords, Jagger hit the playground and we all hit the banos to prepare for the journey.

No sooner did Bhakti go inside the cave and smell the stuffy air, did she regret the bocadilla and begin to feel some very specific… anxiety. Suddenly, she remembered the emergency Imodium stuffed in her backpack. No water to use, so down the hatch dry (not a fun experience with Imodium if you don’t know). Imodium is a silver bullet and always does the trick….. that is…. almost always…

(TV Jingle) Emergency Imodium the super powerful anti-poop pill! The greatest anti anti-poop pill in my backpack! How I love you and adore you! Thank you for being my pill!

Onwards! Not feeling any better, but keeping the Imodium faith, we boarded the boat. We had been promised an English-speaking guide… we didn’t get one. We listened intently to the lengthily explanations which resulted in very few words we could grasp, hunkered down to avoid hitting our heads (cabeza we UNDERSTOOD quickly) and each time she bent over, Bhakti felt that bocadilla and breathed in the stuffy air and… well you get the picture. The boat docked at the other side of the cave and we began a short hike. Bhakti popped another Imodium (knowing full well this could go sideways, or rather the other way, requiring a laxative later). There was no other choice.

Only steps into the hike, Bhakti fell behind, and began desperately hoping she would not poop her pants.

(Gospel) This almost happened in real life…. my mom almost had a little accident… and when that almost happened she shouted… “Come back here boys I need some help”. Nobody knew what to do, There wasn’t a bathroom in sight… just a cave as we all contemplated. WILL SHE HAVE TO… CRAP IN A CAVE?! (drumming + organ duet)

As Bhakti and Zach flailed and freaked, she seriously considered where in this stuffy, congested, no-fresh-air cave, full of other tourists… she was going to have to just squat and crap.

Tears in her eyes and butt squeezed tight, this is the most butt-clenchingly close this adult female has ever come to wishing for a diaper. Nay, she did in fact, wish desperately for a diaper.

Miraculously, and probably thanks to a regular yoga practice, she did not crap in that cave… yet…

On the way out from the hike, we all spotted a large trash can and silently considered it’s possible creative uses… but onward! Back to the boat…

(Folk) Oh the cave oh the cave oh the cave… we have never before hated a cave. But that one, oh that one, is secretly terrible trouble and sneaks up behind you… no sneaks up on your beHIND!

Grateful to have made it this far, but centimeters from certain humiliation we re-boarded the boat. Bhakti looking at her watch desperately calculating the ride back to the banos. She was talking herself through it, convincing herself that she could make it, when suddenly… the cave opened into a beautiful wide cavern where all the boats seemed to be stopping. That’s right, stopping. Bhakti’s watch had not accounted for STOPPING.

(Heavy Metal) Hey we’re on a timeline here. If you stop. I might pop and nobody wants a crap in a CAVE! A CRAP IN A CAVE! Hey we’re on a timeline here. If you stop. I might pop and nobody wants a crap in a CAVE! Oh crap we’re in A CAVE AND I GOTTA CRAP SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BAD!

Now, we have to share the inspiration for this musical… the fabulous music of Coldplay. Apparently very popular with the Spanish people and annoyingly the inspiration for our untimely stop in the cave. The ensuing music and light show delayed our increasingly desperate return to shore. Great.

Several minutes, some deep breaths and a splash of cave water on Bhakti’s face later… in elementary school level Spanish, Bhakti was able to communicate her desperate need to get the -BLANK- (this is a family friendly blog) off that -BLANKing- boat!

After the musical-light-show-torture event, we pulled to the dock and before they could even tie off, she was off that boat and running for the bano!!!!! She made it!!! The bano was so-so but hey, it’s “better than a crap in a cave” TM.

Finally, the first wave passed… that’s right, this was only the first wave.

Stuffy air, a bad bocadilla and a so-so bano…. later. Bhakti rejoined the family to walk back to our bus. Not a few meters into the walk and she turned around and RAN. Passing the befuddled guide who reminded her the bus was departing soon. She desperately left Zach to communicate the situation.

Meanwhile, in the bano… no, we’re not telling you about what happened in that bano… except that Bhakti was also looking up alternative transportation home. There was absolutely none.

The guide offered Zach no support at all, and loaded himself onto the bus and left. That’s right, this amazing guide from this amazing tour company, for this amazing bathroom eliciting adventure… left us there. Hours from Valencia with no alternative transportation home.

(Death Metal) There’s no bus home. There’s noooooo BUS HOME!!!!! You live in this stuffy cave from now on eating crappy bocadillas all day!

Luckily Bhakti, (having realized their predicament) came bolting out of the bano, grabbed young Jagger and shouted to Zach, “We are catching that -bleeping- bus!” We ran. Jagger ran ahead and shouted back, “It’s gone!”, while Zach calmly said, “It’s gone babe, they are just gone.”

Now it should be noted, Bhakti is not easily dissuaded when she is sick, on a mission, and needs to get home to a potty! She ran, taking off her sweater and waving it wildly in the air. The aforementioned kind, compassionate, sainted Brits and Mexican-American family on the bus demanded it turn back and get them! Bless those souls!

The bus turned around, the second Imodium kicked in, and we had made it.

(Country) Take me home, take me home… Mr. Bus…. Mr. Bus, take me home. There’s a bathroom with Bhakti written on the doors. There’s Valencia the place we call home, at least for a while.

Take me home, take me home… Mr. Bus…. Mr. Bus, take me home. There’s a bathroom with Jagger and Zach written across its doors… but Bhakti won’t let them in. She lives there now, in that banos in the sky. Oh high she flies onto that porcelain throne. (side note: port-o-potties in Spain are called “Toi Tois” hmmm cute huh)

Back in Valencia, and safely at home, we could finally laugh about this near miss of a crap in a cave. Now it’s the family joke, anytime something along this journey is a challenge, “Well, at least it’s not a crap in a cave.’”

Hot travel tip: If you find yourself in Valencia… skip the cave tour. It is NOT worth it.

Posted with permission (and a good sense of humor and self deprecation) by Bhakti and Jagger, to her utter humiliation.

PS These blurry pictures are the only remaining evidence we were ever in that damn, (yup I said it) cave.