It was pitch black as a small group of us made our way to the isolated train station (a single, small building) in the early hours of the morning. Entering, we could just make out a number of Mexicans sitting, backs propped up against the adobe walls, and sombreros pulled forward over their faces in clichéd fashion.

No way to tell if they were dozing or awake as the silence was quite deafening.

After a while, an inebriated individual entered the building and exclaimed, ‘Gringos’, in a what I took to be not an exactly endearing greeting as it was accompanied by a bit of a scowl.

I took the plunge and responded with, ‘Sorry, but We two are English, these two are French and this one is German’. I have never seen such a change in atmosphere.

Drunk man’s face lit up as the scowl was replaced with a beaming smile, half a dozen sombreros were pushed up to reveal a host of grins and bottles of tequila were suddenly produced, seemingly out of thin air, and passed around. It was a very pleasant few hours in the dark waiting for the train!

This is the delightful ‘Bug’ which took me to many parts of Mexico…

Public transport was also widely used…