The other day Isabel and I got a taxi from Parramatta to Lavender Bay. After a few minutes the cabbie started talking to us and, since I had given my name for the taxi booking, he introduced himself and asked about Isabel’s name. He soon guessed we were Spanish. Then Isabel asked him where he was from, and he said he was from Tabbouleh. Which means Lebanon, of course. Since we were Spaniards in Sydney, quite a long way from home, he offered to play some Spanish music. After fumbling with various CDs he inserted one in the CD player and voilà, the silky voice of Julio Iglesias, perhaps a bit too loud, invades the taxi. How odd.
The chitchat continued between songs and eventually Mr Tabbouleh asks what part of Spain we are from, to which we reply “Galicia”. He throws his arms around and yells “Galicia, Galicia, yes, listen to this”. And he fumbles again with the CDs and inserts a new one. Again, Julio Iglesias voice assails the night, this time with “Un Canto a Galicia”, which is part in Galician and part in Spanish, perhaps a tribute from Julio Iglesias to his Galician origins.
Mr Tabbouleh sang along until we reached North Sydney, making up most of the lyrics and asking about a few words. He was surprised to discover that “Un Canto a Galicia” is a sad song. Oh well. Surreal.