Imagine a walk with someone who says, “Hang on, I want to look at that,” every twenty yards. First a mossy stone. Then a wheel. Then a tiny door that surely requires a password. We set off for a stroll and now we're house-hunting for a woodland creature.
That's how we like to approach Taramundi, in western Asturias: curious about the real place, with room in our heads to make things up. Its name belongs to the Magikitos' imaginary world too. Our storybook woodland can have tiny neighbours arguing over a chestnut. The real place and its crafts deserve a closer look of their own.
A woodland pause, even if the sandwiches have to wait
The council's Ruta del Agua description places chestnut woodland between Esquíos and As Veigas, with oak and birch in some stretches.
There's plenty to catch your eye already. A bent branch becomes an arm, a root suggests a doorstep, and a dark hollow looks like a front door. Then your companion squints at it and says, “Looks like a potato to me.” So much for the solemn woodland moment. Cheers for that.
If mist arrives, the scene changes. If the sun comes out, it changes again. The weather doesn't have to copy an illustration for the details to be worth noticing. Nor does every tree need an extraordinary age attached to it. Bark, leaves and the shape of a branch give us plenty to talk about.
It's much the same with mushrooms and their imaginary neighbours. A tiny shape sets off a whole story. You can look, leave it where it is and take the idea home. Fits in any pocket. Won't drop soil all over the car.
A pocketknife makes you look twice
The knife-making museum in Pardiñas covers the craft's history and present-day production, including a workshop visible through a glass-fronted gallery.
I like the chance to watch something being made. A finished piece shows you the result. Watching the work raises different questions: how do the parts fit together, what does the maker change, and when is a detail finished? Suddenly the object gives you rather more to discuss.
New tools, adjustments and practical decisions can belong here too. Admiring a craft doesn't mean wishing it would freeze in time for our photographs. What's interesting is seeing someone practise it, explain what they know and keep learning.
That's also why we notice expressions and small differences in handmade figures. A lopsided smile can be more inviting than a grand pose, particularly if its owner looks as though they've broken something and are preparing a thoroughly unconvincing explanation. You can already picture the palaver.
At Os Teixois, water gets to work
The council identifies a 1752 record of the Os Teixois hammer works. That's a specific date to hold onto when discussing its history.
The site includes a hammer, grain mill, sharpening stone, fulling mill and power station. The latter opened in 1942, according to its heritage record.
Water turns the wheel. Cams, projections on the shaft, lift and release the hammer: iron head, wooden handle. That's the basic sequence described in this engineering study.
Now picture the moment it clicks. You've been staring at old machinery with your best “yes, lovely” expression, and suddenly you understand the movement. Oh, that's how it works. It's ridiculously satisfying. You want to explain it to the next person, even if they arrived with you and worked it out first.
The fulling mill beats cloth to make it denser and stronger. The grain mill grinds cereals, while the sharpening stone puts an edge on cutting tools.
Different machines, different jobs. Knowing which does what takes you beyond the noise and the spinning wheel. Appreciating the ingenuity also leaves room to appreciate the effort: these machines need people who understand, maintain and preserve them. Common sense won't replace a worn part by itself.
Mazonovo is a name of its own
The Mazonovo Museum of Mills combines restored mills with reproductions. Some installations let visitors try milling for themselves.
Mazonovo is the place name here. A hammer strikes, a mill grinds, and the name tells us where we are. Those distinctions help us make sense of what we're looking at.
Having a go adds something too. Watching a mechanism work and feeling the effort of working it are different experiences. The next time someone says, “I could do that in five minutes,” we'll have something to discuss over the sandwiches.
An autumn scene for a story
Let's make one up. There are damp leaves, a chestnut has rolled onto the path, and a Magikito insists it was his stool. He's been complaining for ten minutes. His neighbour offers him an acorn and makes the argument worse.
A landscape can make you want to tell a story like that. We don't need to put those words into a local person's mouth or recruit the residents as characters in our tale. We can appreciate their work and enjoy our own daft idea. Everyone keeps their own voice.
If you'd like to meet characters from the region's traditions, the Trasgu and other Asturian creatures have stories of their own. A tale invented this afternoon and a legend collected a century ago can sit at the same table. It helps to introduce them properly.
What the Magikitos take away
In our fiction, Magikitos are born when someone has a happy poo in the woods. It's a considerably less ceremonial beginning than emerging from an ancient gemstone, and it suits them beautifully. The cold-porcelain figures represent those characters.
Taramundi's place in this imaginary world starts with the invitation to look: water, tools, trees and small shapes that hold your attention longer than expected. Then imagination takes over. It gives a neighbour a hat, moves him into a house under a root and gets him arguing about furniture made from nuts.
I'm back on that walk now. You're trying to get going, someone's crouched beside a root, and the sandwiches are waiting. “Coming.” They aren't. They've just found a window for the woodland house.
Is the Magikitos' Taramundi the real place?
The name refers to Taramundi in Asturias, but our woodland and its inhabitants belong to fiction. The real places and crafts mentioned here have their own sources.
Are Os Teixois and Mazonovo the same place?
No. They're different places in the municipality of Taramundi. We've linked to information about both so you can tell them apart.
