The best way to get to Oviedo is by way of Santiago de Compostela.  Lots of folks know that Santiago de Compostela is the capital of the autonomous community of Galicia.   {See previous post:  Galicia, an Autonomous Community of Spain and Historic Nationality Under Spanish Law.)  But not everyone knows that it is the destination for many a pilgrim along the Camino de Santiago, a journey taken afoot from France, Portugal or Spain. 

The Way of St. James leads to the center of the town of Santiago de Compostela where enormous hunks of granite that have been ornately carved, decorated, recarved and redecorated over the centuries rest assuredly on the cobbled ground.  In contemporary times this edifice is photographed almost daily.  It is named after St. James, the Slayer of Moors, in keeping with a general theme in the history of Spain — La Reconquista.  For our family, as our year-long stay was coming to a close, it was a chance to wave an “adiós” to a structure both significant and ubiquitous throughout the Iberian Peninsula, la Catedral.  In this case:  La Catedral de Santiago de Compostela.

Our visit was brief, long enough only to survey the exterior of the structure, listen to exceptional street musicians, eat lunch at an out-of-the way vegetarian restaurant, and discover that it was finally our time to proclaim:   He encontrado piojos en el pelo de mi hijo.*

(I have found lice in my son’s hair.)

Throughout the school year, the teeny tiny piojos were announced by parents and teachers with regularity as they made their way from the heads of one group of students to the heads of another.  Spanish parents accepted the inevitability of these pests and tended to ignore the regular e-mails from the school director imploring parents to keep their children at home when the little lice made an appearance.   For our family, these almost invisible creatures seemed out of a fairy tale, diabolical characters that all of us knew about, though none of us had ever encountered in real life.  We didn’t feel them.  We didn’t see them.  We seldom pronounced their names out loud.  It wasn’t until Jonah’s unstoppable head scratching on the Rúa de Fonseca, that our moment of reckoning arrived:  They were there on his scalp, moving about, lots of them.  Dismayed as we were, this did not prevent us from proceeding to Malak Bistro and ordering the tofu zatar skewers on our way out of town.

From Santiago de Compostela, we headed to Oviedo, “head” being the operative word as our mission was now two-fold:  pedal the Via Verde Senda del Oso the following day and find a farmacía that would still be open by the time we arrived in town late at night.

We drove north and east through Asturias, 324 kilometers towards our destination, with lots of time to mull over the origin of these piojos.  Did they arrive via the cap that Jonah found in a park on the ground outside the Oceanário de Lisboa days ago and which he had worn consistently since?  Did his classmates infect him in the weeks before we left Granada?  Did his compañeros de equipo de Rayos de Aneas?  We decided it was the cap.  We placed the beloved item in a plastic bag and shoved it in the bottom of the suitcase.

Their heads are so close together!

Somewhere there is a louse.

The culprit?

Oviedo recommends itself not only for being the home of the Sudarium of Oviedo**, but also for offering passersby the chance to have their likeness snapped with the famous/infamous director Woody Allen⊕⊕.

** The Sudarium of Oviedo is a blood stained cloth measuring 84 x 53 centimeters believed to have been wrapped around the head of Jesucristo after his death.  It is now housed in the Cámara Santa of the Catedral Metropolitana Basílica de San Salvador (in Oviedo, ¡claro!)

⊕⊕ “A life-size statue of Woody Allen ∇∇ was set on Calle de Pelayo in 2005. The statue was inaugurated after the famous film director dedicated compliments to the city of Oviedo upon receiving the Premio Príncipe de Asturias de las Artes. In 2005, Allen came to Spain and reached an agreement to film “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” in Avilés, Barcelona and Oviedo. Shooting in Ovideo started on July 9, 2007.” (https://www.gpsmycity.com/attractions/woody-allen-statue-54397.html)

∇∇  https://www.theolivepress.es/spain-news/2018/01/23/feminists-demand-removal-of-woody-allen-statue-in-oviedo/

What we were eager to experience was Farmacía Cavia, the only farmacía in Oviedo open 24 hours, located conveniently at Calle Dr. Casal, 8.   We bought enough product for four, now convinced that we were all hosts to these parasites, and spent the rest of our evening in Oviedo delousing. ℑ

We got there around 8:30 p.m.

What we bought.

The next morning, our heads freshly oiled and then raked with a fine-tooth metal comb, we headed to the village of Entrago to ride the Via Verde “Senda del Oso” down roads, through tunnels, skirting villages, past rivers, and by bears.  [As you recall from previous posts, Via Verdes are former rail lines, converted to pedestrian and bicycle-only paths.  This one passed through some of the last remaining brown bear habitat in Spain.]

ℑ   “[H]ead lice are found nowhere else on the planet except in human hair.  Head lice have adapted perfectly to life on us. They have specially designed claws at the ends of each of their six legs that are perfect for scuttling up and down the shafts of hair….So, what is the point of head lice? Perhaps they don’t have a “point” at all…..They don’t pollinate plants, they’re not food for other animals, and they don’t exactly bring joy to our lives in the way other, cuter animals do….I think lice see us as playing a role – providing them with food – but the reverse may not be true” (https://theconversation.com/curious-kids-whats-the-point-of-nits116158#:~:text=But%20perhaps%20head%20lice%20don,way%20other%2C%20cuter%20animals%20do).

We would ride some, though not all, of the Senda del Oso.

We begin.

The scenery is beautiful.

It is all down hill!!! All of it!

We pedal through tunnels.

We pose for pictures.

We dally by rivers.

We rest in the hot sun.

We imagine an idyll.

We read about bears.

We do not know if this is Paca….

…or Tola.

The brown bears were contained behind green metal fences and enclosures.  It could be there were other brown bears in the wooded hills and mountains surrounding us in the Tervega Valley but we did not see any.  We were going to leave Spain in about a week and head back to the United States  — no more Via Verdes, cafés con leche, amigos de españa, churros y chocolate, catedrals, pueblos blancos, playas, fiestas, ex-pat amigos, partidos de fútbol, cañas, vinos tintos, papelerías, burocracia.  But it was best not to think about any of this and just enjoy where we were and keep on pedaling.  We had stopped thinking about the piojos as well.   

Where we were.