a brief moment on the camino

We step in to an inviting looking cafe sandwiched between a convenience store and a bar and look around. The tables are all empty, but two old men sit on stools at the counter, and there's a man drying off some cups. As we enter, everyone turns and stares at us, and we awkwardly gape back at them with half a dozen questions running through our minds. Do we sit? Table or counter? Is there a menu? The man behind the counter frowns slightly at us, possibly because we're still standing in the doorway, but more likely due to our general air of sweat and dirt. Trav and I exchange a quick glance and finally lug ourselves and our backpacks to a corner table. Sighing as he places the now dry tea cup on the peg board behind him, the man comes over to our table and asks what we want. I ask what type of tea they serve and receive a puzzled look, as if it never crossed his mind they might offer multiple varieties of tea. I timidly point to the oversized poster blocking the doorway that explain the many types of tea served in this cafe. The puzzled look is replaced again by a slight frown and he abruptly walks away. Some minutes later he returns with my tea, Trav's muffin, the only edible item in sight and therefore the safest thing to order, and our bill. I gulp down the tea while Trav uses the toilet placed rather inconveniently in the middle of the room, and we remove ourselves from further awkwardness and head back on the camino. Later on, we learned that that every cafe in Spain sells cheese and bread, as well as a plethora of other unannounced items. You just had to be savvy enough to know this without asking.