There could not be another emblematic place, also located in the vicinity of the Monsacro and benefited, therefore, at least theoretically, from the magic, the tradition and the ancestral telism that emanate from its mysterious entrails, spreading like a torrent through the environment: Piñera

La Piñera entails for Asturias, what Calatayud for Aragon: drag a malicious coplilla, which based on repetition and popular joke, has become an indisputable piece of all the flowery pilgrimages; a coplilla that they support, like a kind of initiation rite, if not of patience -give me the simile- all the parish priests that are relieved in the place, and that is based on the carlic slips of a priest with a mill (1) .

By the way, I had the opportunity to prove it, when I was fortunate enough to be able to attend the pilgrimage, which annually, in July, takes place in honor of Magdalena on July 22 and Santiago on July 25 at the top of the Monsacro.
The parish priest, Don Miguel Angel (2) was right next to me when the chords rang, and the poor man, resigned - what a remedy! - only managed to comment, shrugging his shoulders: they are already messing with me. And in all places they cook beans, but that's another story.

Of the history that can be interesting here, it is enough to know, for example, that the church of La Piñera, although there is no trace left -at least in its external structure- was raised with the remains of an older church, which was erected in the denominated meadow of San Juan, located in the neighboring village of Llavandera, and that also, within its term, we find a curious example of private hermitage whose restoration, taking shelter to the denominated Plan To of interior adaptation, curiously it is going to be benefited with money public.

But this is not that it is another story; it's just politics, which is - and sorry for the redundancy - something much worse.

But La Piñera also has a certain connection with the Orient, in those wandering felines that, called angora, frolic lazy on the porch of the houses or wander confused by the landings of the granaries, wondering, perhaps, where some mice were talking about. Sometimes they are as small as a cockroach.

And there are also ancestral crosses; some, suspiciously monxoi type that, like eternal imaginary, guard new barracks, demolished in the immemorial oblivion those others, behind whose lintels, monks and warriors veiled weapons fervently in favor of a Tradition, little less than lost today.

'Pueblines del Camín, raiganos of Asturian essence'.

Notes, References and Bibliography:

(1) 'To the priest of La Piñera, the windmill plays bagpipe ...'.
(2) He is also the parish priest of La Piñera.

NOTICE: originally posted on my blog MEMORIES OF A PILGRIM. Both the text and the photos that accompany it are my exclusive intellectual property. The original entry, where you can check the authorship of juancar347, can be found at the following address: https://jc347.blogspot.com/2011/10/pueblines-del-camin-la-pinera.html