I walked through pueblo de Sanabria
Hauling my backpack and water
Hoping so much
I’d meet with some luck
El Bar with cafe con leche

Trudged on through mountains and plains
Cursing the pebbles and sand
Hoping that soon
I’d find with some prayers
El Bar with cafe con leche

Its a long walk through campos preciosos
Up mountains then down ,sharp stones underfoot
I’ve run out of luck
No bars with cafe con leche

I’ve walked through valleys,up mountains
Through pueblos as silent as death
The grey morning light
Gives way to the sun
And still no cafe con leche

Cathedrals,iglesias,campos and calles
Pueblos pequeños y largos
Albergues,peregrinos
Caminos y carreteras

All part of this bloody Camino

Preciosa, stupendo, duro y feo
I just want cafe con leche
Fantastico,stupendo,muy legos,dont care
Just want cafe con leche

(Photos from the via de la plata ,walked in 2015)

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I’m trying to repost an edited version of El Pueblo sin Bar , written after one of those not so good days of walking : hot, water running out, legs aching and hopes dashed each time one passes another small place with no coffee . There’s the anticipation and lifting of spirits , and the fall is harder each time . Such a small thing . But small things assume big proportions on a long walking day ,long walking weeks .