DAY 142

Wednesday 30 November 2011

Dian arose early and went for fresh bread from the bakery -- why not? when it's just out the front door of the building and three doors to the right. Horno Goya -- we'll surely miss it when we leave. Owner Elyssa has been very nice, treating us like old customers rather than newbies.

Dian worked on her portrait of her dad until it was time for us to meet a friend from LA, Christine, who was in the area visiting her ex-pat mom Doreen who lived south of Valencia, in a mostly-Brits area. They gave a call when they were near and we set off on foot to meet them in the center of the old town, in the square in front of the cathedral.

Charles and Christine

Nicole and Doreen

We rounded the corner and.... there they were! How nice it was to see a friendly face from home, way over in Spain. They had snagged a nice table outdoors and we all had coffees, but Nicole felt adventurous and added a dangerous-looking brownie, with ice cream. It did not disappoint.

Doreen was a delightful elder British lady with a quick and wry wit, who enjoyed jousting good-naturedly with her daughter, no slouch herself in the dry repartee arena. But we wanted to tour the cathedral and had to leave Doreen and her limited mobility behind; "I'll be fine," she insisted, and was. There was a fee for seeing the old church and having been through so many we weren't always ready to spring for tickets, but Christine insisted, and treated, so we picked up our headphones and ventured forth. It was a very wise choice.

       

It was a beautiful old repository, dating from the 13th century, not unlike others but with some unique twists. One, a couple of Goyas, excellent and large and right there, the one depicting demons whispering in the ear of a dying man being most memorable. Always fun to see demons in a church. Another was the ceiling of the cupola with its recently uncovered frescoes of angelic musicians on a celestial blue background; whatever was there before covering these up was clearly a bad decision -- they were not just gorgeous but spellbinding, somehow grabbing most viewers in the way such art is always intended but doesn't always achieve. They were painted in 1471 and church officials so disliked them they refused to pay the artists; 150 years later more church elders ordered them plastered over. Thank God an unknown laborer took it upon himself to build a false wall instead, and when art historians in 2004 heard a pigeon making noise behind the wall they investigated and discovered and restored the lost art.

The other noteworthy feature there was a pretty good one: the Holy Grail. Or, at least, one of about a dozen in the world claiming that distinction. But most historians are of the opinion that this one had the best credentials for that claim. Seemed interesting to us that it was on display in a side chapel without a guard present. Oh, and on the wall were the chains that bound St. Peter in Rome as he was led away for execution. Just in case, you know, the Holy Grail wasn't enough to hold your interest.

Delighted with our tour we went outside and claimed Doreen, none the worse for wear, and found a spot for lunch. We waved them goodbye afterwords, and headed back home to Pilar's apartment by way of the Grand Market area, where we finally located something we'd been searching all over for: a fire extinguisher, for the car. Now you can rest easy, Grandad (retired fireman). We stopped by the new second-hand store of Sonia from New Mexico, but she wasn't there.

Photo by Dian

Later our friend Don came over and delivered a package he received from Dian's sister Monica in Austin and we had a nice visit. A comfort food dinner of lentil soup ended a good day.