May 10th, 2017
Bilbao to Portugalete
Km walked: 20
Km total: 169
It only took a week on the trail, but I finally managed to lock myself in a public toilet. It was hot in there, and humid, and the smell of urine and crap was almost suffocating. There are hardly any public restrooms in Spain, so when we saw one after walking through an urban jungle for 10 kilometers without anywhere to relieve ourselves, we decided to use it.
The public restrooms here are singular cubes, almost like a metal chamber. And when I went in, the door closed automatically and snapped locked. I used the toilet, a mess of a thing, with unidentified liquid all over the black cracked seat and all over the floor. Gross doesn’t quite describe the utter filth of the thing. And the moist air- why was it so damp in there? I swear it was almost raining inside the cube. Their was no windows and no ventilation to be had, and if someone decided to die in here the body would probably decompose overnight. A perfect place to get rid of a dead body, now that I think of it. After doing my thing, I proceeded to the door. I pushed on it and it was still locked. There wasn’t a handle to twist or pull and for a brief moment panic set in. There were two red buttons on the side wall, both lit up. I pressed the top one and this flushed the toilet. I tried to push on the door thinking that it would now let me out because I flushed my waste down the drain, but alas no luck. I tried the bottom button. The toilet flushed again and the door remained locked.
Oh boy.
I started pulling and yanking on the door, yelling at Carolyn to try and open it from the other side. But it wouldn’t budge. My heart raced in my chest and the room suddenly became hotter and more humid, something I thought was surely and impossibility only a few moments ago.
Outside, Carolyn was trying to ask some people in broken Spanish how to open the door.
“Push the buttons!” Carolyn yelled from the outside world.
“I did! Nothing happened!”
More Spanish resumed on the other side. I was starting to wonder how long I would be stuck in there. Carolyn would have to call the fire department. They would have to use the jaws of life to pry me out of this tin can. I could see the news headlines now- “stupid American locks himself in public toilet- almost dies.” I would become a meme on the Internet. The joke would be all on me.
“Did you try both of the buttons?” Carolyn asked.
“Yeah, nothing happened!” I yelled back.
More Spanish. Faster Spanish. Not from Carolyn, but whomever she was talking with.
I looked at the blue tiled floor. It was wet and sticky. I wouldn’t even be able to sit down and wait for the fire department. I would probably pass out from having to stand in this awful air, and when they finally pried the door open, they would find an empty room- the humidity having consumed my dead corpse.
“Push the button and push the door at the same time!” Carolyn said at last.
I did as instructed and the door finally snapped open. Cool and refreshing air fell over me, and I sucked it all in.
Carolyn stood laughing at me, and the people she was talking with looked at me too, smiling.
“Muchos Gracias!” Carolyn said to the old couple. They smiled and said something back that I didn’t understand. They were all having a good time of it. I almost died and was consumed by the evil humidity, and everyone was laughing about it.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t go in there first!” Carolyn said. “I think I’ll skip going in there.”
“Wise choice,” I said.
And we both continued walking on.
