Where residents actually go
Real de Catorce is so small that locals and visitors share the same few streets, but there is still a clear line between the tourist-facing terraces on Calle Lanzagorta and where the people who live and work here spend their own pesos. The difference is mostly about who is cooking, when, and for how much.
The morning food stalls near the church
Residents, guides and pilgrims all eat at the same simple stalls and fondas clustered near the Parroquia and Plaza Hidalgo, not the pricier menus with a view. The move is to arrive early, when the comal is hot and the pilgrims are fueling up. Order gorditas stuffed with beans, chicharron or a stew, a couple of tamales, and a cup of atole or champurrado to fight the cold. A full breakfast this way runs a handful of pesos rather than a restaurant bill. This is the real daily food of the town.
The plaza at dusk
Once the last jeep of day-trippers clears the tunnel, Plaza Hidalgo belongs to families, kids kicking a ball, and the people who run the guesthouses. Buy a pan dulce from one of the small panaderias and a hot drink, sit on a bench, and watch the town go quiet. Weekends and pilgrimage days bring the most life; a random Tuesday night is nearly silent, which is its own reward. This costs almost nothing and is the single most local thing you can do here.
The Wednesday and weekend rhythm
Real does not have a big formal tianguis, but supplies and produce come up the mountain from Matehuala, and the town is busiest on weekends and religious dates. If you want to see residents shopping and socializing rather than serving tourists, come on a Saturday or Sunday morning around the plaza and the streets feeding into it.
The ranch villages below
Many who work in Real actually live in smaller settlements down the mountain and out on the desert floor, places like La Luz, Estacion Catorce and the hamlets scattered through Wirikuta. If you take a jeep or horse tour, your guide almost certainly comes from one of them. Ask about their village, the pilgrimage routes and the mining days, and you will learn more about this place in an hour than any plaque tells you.
What a friend who lives here would tell you: skip the fanciest terrace with the mountain view, buy your gorditas from the stall the guides are already queuing at, and stay a night so you are still here when the town empties out and becomes itself again. For where those meals live in more detail, see food.