Wake Up and Smell the Shit by Kirsten Koza

Author:Kirsten Koza
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Travelers' Tales
Published: 2015-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Jon Penfold lives in Portland, Oregon, where he’s always looking for his next adventure. For more of his stories, please visit jonpenfold.com

SPUD HILTON

The Holy Grail

Yoo-hoo, Dan Brown?

STANDING IN THE DOORWAY TO THE CATHEDRAL IN VALENCIA, SPAIN, I couldn’t help but think: Man, da Vinci didn’t have a clue.

“Está aquí?”

“Sí.”

“En la Catedral?”

“Sí.”

“The Holy Grail?”

“Yes, señor.”

The man taking tickets looked as though most of the salt in his salt-and-pepper hair was the result of people like me asking the same question three and four times. But in my defense, I had just unlocked one of the greatest secrets of the past two millennia pretty much by sheer dumb luck. I had succeeded where others had failed—Percival, the Knights Templar, Indiana Jones, Monty Python—and I wasn’t even looking. All this talk about the chalice being a da Vinci-coded metaphor for Mary Magdalene, flushed away.

It turns out that the thirteenth-century Gothic cathedral, a blimp-hangar of a basilica built on the Plaza de la Reina in central Valencia, features some popular attractions for the tourists: a bell tower with a 207-step spiral staircase and an amazing citywide view; two paintings by Goya; the mummified arm of St. Vincent the Martyr; and, oh, by the way, a little trinket called the Holy Grail.

Yeah, that Holy Grail.

It seemed at the time as if that little fact was something the cruise director should have mentioned in the port briefing, even in passing: “Yes, folks, you’ll find Valencia is a terrific, friendly port whose main attractions are the great shopping bargains and yummy Spanish paella, especially in the lovely plaza next to the church with that Holy Cup thingy.”

Sure, cruise lines would rather not tell you everything about a port so you’ll be more inclined to take the packaged excursion, but this seemed kind of extreme. It’s a little like arriving at Skull Island and having the cruise staff tout the scenic, white-sand beaches and the colorful local culture, but neglect to mention the 20-story gorilla with a weakness for petite blondes.

It seemed, also, that the easiest job on the planet should be director of tourism for the city of Valencia. You arrive at the office, have a cup of coffee and then prepare for the toughest decision you’ll make all day: should the next campaign emphasize the excellent climate, miles of beaches and historic district, or the fact that our city has exclusive display rights for the single most important relic and tangible icon of faith for, oh, say, a few billion Christians worldwide?

O.K., that’s decided. Let’s go to lunch and have yummy paella.

But I had already been to the tourist information office (not more than 100 yards from the cathedral), and no one made mention of grails, holy or otherwise. Maybe they were waiting for a leading question, such as, “Um, I don’t suppose you folks have any enormously well-known and historically sought-after relics lying around?”

Similarly, in the guide put out by the Valencia Tourism & Convention Bureau, the first of only two references to the artifact

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