Our flight to Monterrey got cancelled again. The first time, a year ago, we rebooked it for Mexico City, but this time airfare to León was cheap enough to make us consider going there… again. We had already taken the same flight a few years earlier and spent three wonderful days exploring Guanajuato. But here we were, with airline credits burning a hole in our pocket, tempting us to come back. We went in circles trying to come up with an itinerary that didn’t include all the places we had already visited, until Victor sighed and said, “The only thing that makes sense is San Miguel de Allende.”
We had talked about visiting San Miguel de Allende before. We’ve met plenty of travelers in Mexico who told us it was their favorite town, and we’ve seen more than enough excited vloggers exalting the thriving art scene, the diverse food options, and the boutique hotels. This may sound great to someone unfamiliar with Mexico, but all those buzzwords mean only one thing to us: there’s a large expat population that makes the town very touristy and Westernized. We love Mexico for being Mexico, and at no point while exploring dozens of pueblos mágicos did we ever search for “diverse food options” or “a thriving art scene.” When we visit Mexico, I want traditional Mexican food and a local market selling indigenous crafts, not trendy sushi spots or artsy coffee shops. We have plenty of that in Chicago, where we live.
My fear was that San Miguel de Allende would turn out like Tulum. We visited Yucatán in 2020 and loved all the little beach towns, the beautiful views, the sea brimming with corals, fish, and turtles, and the delicious local food. And then we went to Tulum. This was a beach town where you couldn’t see the water from the main road, because the entire shoreline was swallowed by hotels and restaurants. Nothing felt real, and everything was Instagrammable. College girls were puckering duck lips while lounging in hanging wicker chairs wrapped in garlands of fake flowers, taking endless selfies. Everyone was speaking English, carrying fancy coffee drinks, wearing flowing linen dresses or man buns, and occasionally staging performative public meditations. Because apparently it’s normal to just stand on one foot in a crowded park, eyes closed, humming as if deep in meditation while periodically peeking to make sure people are watching.
Someone I know once called Tulum “a mental hospital with a sea view.” I only disagree because we never actually saw the sea, mostly because we refused to pay $90 for a couple of beach chairs. Maybe we didn’t give Tulum enough of a chance, since we lasted about 20 minutes before getting back in the car and tearing down the road as if being chased. And in a symbolic way, we were being chased - by the regret of having spent $20 on parking and the existential terror of what overtourism does to a place.
Ever since that day, the word “Tulum” has become our shorthand for a gorgeous local place ruined by tourists and expats. Would San Miguel de Allende turn out to be another Tulum? Would it become the second place in Mexico—actually, in the entire world—that we completely disliked and walked away from immediately? We went back and forth for a while before finally deciding to give it a chance. If we ended up hating it, we could simply use San Miguel as a home base and take day trips to explore the surrounding towns and nature.
I’m happy to report that, despite all our trepidations, San Miguel de Allende won us over. It really is a charming town, but even with plenty of expats, it’s still unmistakably Mexican. There are art studios, showrooms, and cafés tucked inside what used to be a textile mill. Rooftop bars pour mezcal and craft beer, and cozy cafés offer both fancy lattes and café de olla. We found a mix of colorful, homey restaurants and sleek, modern spots that somehow still feel grounded in local flavor. San Miguel is one of the rare places where the foreign influence doesn’t overwhelm the local culture but complements it.
I think a lot of that has to do with its history. Unlike Tulum, which ballooned into existence over the last few decades after being “discovered” by backpackers, San Miguel had time to grow into its popularity. In the early 20th century, it was on the brink of turning into a ghost town after an influenza pandemic wiped out much of its population. Strangely enough, it was rescued by foreign artists who were drawn in by the Baroque and Neoclassical colonial architecture. They moved in, founded cultural institutes, and created a new reputation for San Miguel as an artistic haven. Since then, San Miguel has attracted waves of people from the U.S., Canada, and Europe, shifting the local economy from agriculture and industry to one that caters to tourists and retired foreign residents. And while expats make up less than five percent of the municipality, their cultural and economic footprint is significant. The difference is that they’re not just swooping in for a spa weekend or a photo op. They live here and put down roots, became a part of the community.
While touring Fábrica La Aurora, the former textile mill now filled with art studios, Victor picked up a free newspaper, as he loves keeping up with local news wherever we go. Later that afternoon, while we were eating pastries and drinking café de olla in a little artsy café, we were surprised to discover that the paper was an English-language publication written by expats for expats. We spent the entire coffee break giggling at “breaking” stories like, “There’s now a giant pothole on such-and-such street; be careful, two people have already tripped on it!” and “Mary and Greg are leaving to tour Europe for a couple of months, and their beautiful cats will be cared for by the wonderful Susan next door. Let’s wish them luck!” Mundane as the “news” was, the paper was well written (I wouldn’t be surprised if a few former journalists were behind it) and full of genuine affection for its host city.
We came to San Miguel de Allende on airline credits, armed with low expectations and an exit strategy, but were quickly charmed by its warmth, beauty, and unpretentious creativity. At some point, we were even discussing bringing our friends for a visit, as this town would make a great “gateway” trip to Mexico for those not well familiar with Mexican culture. (You know who you are!) From now on, there is a new word in our vocabulary – “San Miguel”. It’s an antonym to “Tulum”, and means a place where visitors, even in great numbers, fit in, rather than take over.
As travel becomes more and more popular every year, I certainly hope for more San Miguels in our future and less Tulum!
