For the whole of our trip from the Mexican border to Creel, Ron and I saw not one gringo, and heard not a sentence of English being spoken on the street. It was amazing. Surely US tourists went by us in their cars, but we didn't see or hear them.

Then we arrived in Creel, on the railroad line, a major stop for tourists from all over the world. And we stayed in Margaritas, which is the local magnet for travellers of all types, but especially for international "backpackers", the mostly young people who move around the world on buses and trains with their belongings in backpacks on their backs. They usually don't do any backpacking, but they have their stuff in backpacks because they can carry the stuff around that way.

So we ate and hung out with young people from England, Poland, Israel, Germany, Austria, the US, Mexico, and Argentina, to name a few. They all seem to go to the same hotels in the same major cities that are reachable by bus, and form a sort of migrant subculture. Everywhere they go they find the discoteques and entertainment where there are other backpackers. And they see some cultural sites, then take a bus to the next major stop on the "Gringo Trail". It's quite amazing what a distinct subculture it is.

It reminds me of how good and natural bike touring is. You move slowly, you see what's between those cities. You're forced to interact with the local people. It's a delight. And while it's a pleasure to meet some of these young people and see their lifestyle, I think the bike touring way is the way for me.