The Tonyas, meanwhile, are wondering what a relic actually is. "It's like a artifact, you know, a little thing from the past?" Wally explains. A bunch of archeologists somewhere start to take exception to this sloppy layperson's definition, and then they're like, "Well...okay, yes, actually." Meanwhile, the Linzes note that the Bransens are just ahead of them heading for the relics. They don't say so, but I suspect this is good news for the boys, because they can enjoy the asses of the Tonyas when it goes that way. These two teams arrive almost together and run for the route. They start across the bridges. The Tonyas jog across the very high bridge as the rain falls hard, but Wally isn't able to run this part, and the Linzes are stuck behind him.
Now, the Weavers get to Roca Loca, and two of them keep saying, "Xavier? Xavier?", while they other one keeps saying, "JAY-vier," like she's correcting them. So it's like, "Xavier?" "JAY-vier." "Xavier?" "JAY-vier." They'd be really funny if they were doing this on purpose. It calls to mind a really funny story I heard once about a nurse calling a patient in the doctor's office, going, "Jesus? Jesus?" (You know, pronounced in the English-language way.) And this guy comes up to her and sort of shyly says, "It's 'hay-SOOS.'" And she says, rather impatiently, "Well, it says Jesus on here." At any rate, the Weavers collect their clue and choose the Relic option on the Detour.
The Paolos continue hauling bananas, and it continues to be true that everybody else has to work in teams, but Tony can throw those suckers up on one shoulder.
Bransens and Linzes at the Relics at last. They pick them up, and...apparently, these relics are either made of hollow chocolate like bunnies at Easter, or they're made of pumice, or they're made of some kind of space-age foam, because they look to weigh about a pound and a half apiece, despite being the size of a person. Now that, I could lift.
The Gaghans (sniff) find Roca Loca. As they part ways with their Fern, in one of my favorite moments, Tammy thanks the Fern, and then Billy comes over, independently of his parents, and says, "Gracias," and holds out his hand to shake. That's how you turn out to be a person who doesn't snot about how somebody didn't help you with directions as much as you'd like, Rebecca. Might want some maturity lessons from the 12-year-old.
The Paolos finish the banana task. And I hate to admit it, but I was like..."Yay!" Because seriously, they were good this leg. And they didn't argue too much, and they seemed to be no longer working at cross-purposes, which was part of what made them so hard to watch in other weeks. "Dad, you're a frickin' monster," Brian says, meaning "monster" in the good way. In an interview, an astonishingly appealing DJ says, "I understand fully what my dad does every day. If I tried to lift a garbage can, I can't, I can't do it. When he picked up those bananas, I don't have that strength. I cannot do what my father does." And I'll give him props for the fact that not every guy that age can say "I cannot do what my father does" and totally mean it and mean it exactly this way. I still hate watching him and his mother yell at each other, but there may be...a ray of hope. A small ray. A rayette. A ray-ito. The jury is still out. Oh, quiet.