Belize

A Trip That Was Supposed to Last One Month

I had taken plenty of outdoor trips before 1995, including long road trips, hiking trips, climbing trips, and paddling trips, but this was different. I was heading into Central America alone with a backpack and without a fixed schedule. I figured I might be gone for about a month. I wanted to travel cheaply, learn as I went, and leave myself enough freedom to stay longer anywhere I liked.

That freedom mattered. When you are traveling on a strict itinerary, you spend a lot of time worrying about the next reservation. I did not have that problem. If I met someone interesting or heard about a place that sounded good, I could change direction. I did that over and over again during the next four months.

I also wanted more than a quick vacation. I wanted to see how people lived, spend time in small towns, take local transportation, stay in inexpensive places, and learn as much as I could. I did not want to look at Central America through the windows of a tour bus. I wanted to be out in it.

Belize seemed like a good place to start. It had Caribbean islands, an incredible reef, tropical forests, Maya history, fishing villages, and English was spoken almost everywhere. It would give me a chance to get comfortable traveling independently before heading farther into countries where I would need to rely more heavily on Spanish.

Trying to Figure Out the Belize Airport

The international airport outside Belize City was tiny. I have always remembered it as almost a two-room building, which was a huge contrast from the large airports I was used to in the United States. I got off the plane with my backpack and started asking around about buses into Belize City.

My original idea was to get into town and then take a boat out to the cayes. The boat was cheaper, and I was thinking like a backpacker. I had four months of travel ahead of me, although I did not know it yet, so I was paying attention to every expense.

While I was asking about the bus and the boat, I noticed a separate line with quite a few people in it. That line was for the little flights going out to the cayes. I had not really planned to fly because I assumed it would be much more expensive, but I was curious enough to walk over and ask.

At the very back of the line were two German guys with some really big, heavy bags. They were carrying all their diving gear, including what looked like just about everything they might need for serious diving. I asked them what they knew about the flight.

They said they were not really sure. They had just gotten into the line themselves.

Then they asked if I would watch their bags while they went up to the counter and found out the details. More people were getting in line behind us, so I stayed with their gear and held their place while they went forward to ask the price and schedule.

A few minutes later, they came back with the answer. The flight was only $35. It would take about twenty minutes, and they said it was supposed to be a really pretty flight. The boat would take a couple of hours, and if we flew, we could be out on Ambergris Caye by late afternoon.

That changed the whole calculation for me. Thirty-five dollars was more than the boat, but not so much more that it made sense to lose half the day. I told them, “Sure, I’m going too.”

The Two German Divers

While we waited in line and watched all their dive gear, the three of us started talking and introduced ourselves. They were there to dive, which explained the huge bags. I was just beginning a long backpacking trip, and I was interested in just about everything.

Travel friendships can happen much faster than friendships at home. You might meet somebody in an airport, share a taxi or a room, and spend the next week together. There is not much time for formal introductions. Everybody is trying to figure out where to go, where to stay, and what things cost. You help each other, and before long you are traveling together.

That is exactly what happened with the German guys. Less than an hour after meeting them, I was standing in line with them, helping watch their equipment, planning to take the same flight, and already thinking we might be able to split the cost of a place to stay.

I do not remember every detail of our conversation now, but I remember how easy it was. None of us had a firm reservation for that night. We were all heading to San Pedro. We all wanted a place near the water. It made sense to stay together if we found something suitable.

That willingness to team up with strangers became one of the patterns of the whole trip. Sometimes I traveled by myself. Sometimes I traveled with people I had met a few days earlier. Sometimes people came and went from the trip, and then I met someone else. It kept everything interesting.

The Twenty-Minute Flight to San Pedro

The airplane was small and old, and I remember it as an old Russian plane that seemed to skim right over the water. It was nothing like getting on a big commercial jet. We flew low enough that we could really see what was below us.

The view was incredible. We could see the shallow turquoise water, darker channels, reef areas, small islands, boats, and long stretches of coastline. From that height, the water did not look like one solid color. It changed from pale green to bright blue to dark blue depending on the depth and what was on the bottom.

The flight only lasted about twenty minutes, but it was part of the adventure instead of just transportation. The boat might have been cheaper, but by the time we landed, I felt like the extra money had been well spent. We had seen Belize from the air and arrived with most of the afternoon still ahead of us.

As we came into San Pedro, I was excited but still had no idea where I was going to sleep that night. That problem lasted only a few minutes.

Meeting Woody at the San Pedro Airport

When we got off the plane in San Pedro, there was a guy waiting there with a golf cart. His name was Woody. He said he was giving rides to anybody who wanted to look at his place, Woody’s Bungalows, right on the beach.

We asked the obvious question: how much?

Woody told us that if the three of us were willing to share one bungalow, he would give us a special rate of $51 for the whole place and drive us there in the golf cart. Then he started describing it. It had two bedrooms, it was on the ground floor, it had a kitchen and a sitting area, and it had a great view of the water.

That already sounded pretty good. Then he mentioned that breakfast was included.

And then he said it had a free rum bar.

We looked at each other and decided, “Let’s go for it.” There was not much more to discuss.

So the three of us, who had only met at the Belize airport a short time earlier, loaded ourselves and all the German guys’ heavy dive gear into Woody’s golf cart and rode off to look at the bungalow.

The whole thing happened so quickly that it almost seemed normal at the time. We did not have online reviews, photos on a booking site, or a reservation confirmation. We had Woody, a golf cart, a price, and the promise of a beach view and free rum.

The Beachfront Bungalow and the Free Rum Bar

The bungalow was every bit as good as Woody had described it. It had two bedrooms, a nice sitting room, a kitchen, a deck, and a beautiful view of the water. It was a first-class place compared with most of the inexpensive rooms I stayed in during the rest of the trip.

The total price was $51 a night, which worked out to $17 each. That was probably my most expensive lodging during the whole four-month trip, but it was also one of the best values. We were right on the beach, breakfast was included, and the place was large enough that the three of us were not crowded.

The free rum bar was real too. Every day the maids put several different fresh local fruit juices in the refrigerator. There were cases of rum near the fridge and coolers with ice. It was basically a twenty-four-hour open rum bar.

Every morning after breakfast, we would mix a tall rum drink with fresh fruit juice and carry it with us while we walked along the beach into town. I know that sounds like a questionable way to start the day, and it probably was, but we were young, we were in Belize, and it was part of the experience.

The bungalow became more than just a room. It gave us a base where we could sit on the deck, look at the water, talk about what we had done that day, and decide what we might do next. Because we were all sharing it, it also turned three strangers into a little traveling group almost immediately.

One thing I have always remembered is that the place did not feel like a sealed-off resort. We were close enough to walk into town, close to local bars and restaurants, and close to the people we started meeting. It was comfortable without separating us from the island.

Meeting Lisa and Jane on the First Night

That first night, the German guys and I went to an outdoor tiki bar. At some point, two women changed into bathing suits and jumped into the pool.

The German guys were too shy to go talk to them, so I did.

I found out that the women were twins named Lisa and Jane. Even better, they were staying at the same place we were. That meant we were not just people who happened to meet at a bar. We were neighbors for the week.

For the next several weeks, Lisa, Jane, the German guys, and I had a great time together. I eventually went with Lisa and Jane over to Caye Caulker and then continued with them toward Guatemala.

I have always considered it a combination of luck and fate that I met so many good people on the very first day of a long international journey. Since then, I have traveled to many more countries and met lots of other wonderful people, but Lisa and Jane were among the first. They will always be special friends because they were there when this whole part of my life was just beginning.

There was nothing complicated about the introduction. I just walked over and started talking. That small act changed the next part of the trip. It gave us more people to explore with, more stories, and eventually a shared route into Guatemala.

Settling into Island Life

San Pedro and Ambergris Caye were a great introduction to Belize. The island had enough activity that there were always people to meet and places to go, but it still felt relaxed. We could walk along the beach into town, spend time near the water, stop at little bars, and let the day unfold without much of a schedule.

The phrase I kept seeing and hearing was, “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem.” It sounded like a joke, but it also described the place pretty well. People were informal. The pace was slower. Businesses might close for siesta around noon and open again at two, or three, or four. Things happened when they happened.

That attitude took a little getting used to, but I liked it. At home, people often act as though being ten minutes late is a crisis. In Belize, the day seemed to be organized more around heat, meals, the water, and whether somebody felt like reopening the shop yet.

I am sure we did some of the usual island activities, walked the beaches, and spent time around town, but what stayed with me most were the people and the little daily routines. Breakfast at the bungalow. Rum and fruit juice. The walk into town. Meeting up with Lisa and Jane. Ending the night at the tiki bar near our place.

Those routines made the island start to feel familiar very quickly. We knew where we were going, people started recognizing us, and we were not rushing to move on. That is one reason I have always preferred slower travel. You notice more once a place begins to feel normal.

No Shirt, No Shoes, No ID—and a Beer in My Hand

One morning, I needed to cash a traveler’s check. This was long before everybody carried bank cards that worked everywhere, and traveler’s checks were still a normal way to carry money safely.

I got to a fancy air-conditioned bank about ten minutes after noon and found the glass doors locked. I did not have a shirt on. I did not have shoes on. I did not have identification with me. I did have a beer in my hand.

That did not seem like a promising combination for getting into a bank.

The manager saw me looking through the glass and waved me inside. He basically said, “Don’t worry. Bring your beer. Don’t worry about your ID. We’ll take care of you.” Then he cashed the traveler’s check without any problem.

I could hardly imagine that happening in the United States. I would probably have been told to put on a shirt, come back with identification, get rid of the beer, and return during normal business hours. In Belize, the manager looked at the situation, decided I was fine, and helped me.

That story became one of my favorite examples of the difference in attitude. It was not that nothing mattered. It was that people still had room to make a human decision instead of automatically hiding behind a rule.

The Tiki Bar Down the Beach

Each night, we always seemed to end up at a cool tiki bar about two hundred meters from our bungalow. It was close enough that it became our regular place. The owner got to know us, and we got to know some of the local customers.

That is one of the advantages of returning to the same place instead of constantly looking for something new. After a few evenings, you are no longer just another tourist. People know who you are. Conversations pick up where they left off. You start hearing local stories and getting invited to things that would never appear in a guidebook.

The owner told us, “Come by some morning and I’ll take you all out fishing.” We thought he was just being friendly. People say things in bars all the time, and not all of them turn into actual plans.

One day after lunch, we stopped by for a drink and joked, “Let’s go fishing.”

We expected him to laugh and tell us maybe another day.

Instead, he said yes.

The Free Fishing Trip—and Lisa’s Six-Foot Shark

Sure enough, the bar owner asked one of his local customers to watch the bar for a few hours. Then he took us out in his boat.

There was no tour office, reservation, waiver, or payment. The owner had gotten to know us and decided to take us fishing. That was it.

I caught several reef fish. Lisa caught a big shark that was about six feet long. I still remember the excitement of it. This was not a little afternoon of dropping a line from a dock. We were out with somebody who knew the local water, and suddenly Lisa was connected to a shark almost as long as she was tall.

We all had a great day fishing, and it did not cost us anything. But the fact that it was free was not really the important part. The important part was that somebody we had met only because we kept visiting his bar decided to close up for a few hours and share an experience with us.

I have always liked outdoor activities that connect me with people who know a place well. Whether I am paddling with somebody who knows a river, hiking with somebody who understands a trail, or fishing with somebody who has spent years reading the water, I learn much more than I would on my own.

That afternoon also showed how fast a normal day can become one of the stories you remember for the rest of your life. We had stopped in for a drink after lunch. A few minutes later, the bar was in somebody else’s hands and we were loading into a boat.

Moving on to Caye Caulker

After our time around San Pedro and Ambergris Caye, I eventually went with Lisa and Jane over to Caye Caulker. The island had a different feel. It was smaller, quieter, and even more relaxed.

By then, the trip had already changed from something I was doing alone into something I was sharing with people I had met along the way. That was not part of any original plan. It simply happened because we liked one another and were heading in the same general direction.

Caye Caulker fit the mood of the trip. There was no reason to hurry. We could walk around, spend time near the water, talk with other travelers, and decide what came next. By then, I was learning to trust that approach.

I wish I had written down more details at the time because there are always parts of a long trip that fade. I remember the overall feeling very clearly, though. We were young, traveling cheaply, meeting people constantly, and beginning to realize that the journey could continue much longer than expected.

Belize had already given me enough confidence that heading onward no longer felt like a huge leap. The next step was Guatemala.

Leaving Belize for Guatemala

Eventually, Lisa, Jane, and I continued on toward Guatemala. Belize had been my introduction to the trip, but it had also prepared me for the rest of it.

By the time I left, I had already figured out local transportation, shared lodging with strangers, made friends, changed plans, spent time with local people, and learned that I was comfortable traveling without knowing exactly what would happen next.

Guatemala would be a much deeper step into Central America. I would need more Spanish. I would spend more time in towns and with local families. I would see ancient Maya sites, mountains, markets, and a very different culture. But I arrived there with confidence that had started in Belize.

That first week was not just a beach vacation before the serious travel began. It was the beginning of the serious travel. It taught me how the trip was going to work.

Returning to Belize Years Later

Belize stayed in my mind long after the 1995 trip ended. It was the first country on one of the greatest adventures of my life, and I always wanted to return.

I later spent about five days diving in Belize on a trip with Carol, and I spent a couple more weeks there in 2022. Returning after so many years was interesting because I was not the same traveler anymore. I had decades more experience, and Belize had changed too.

Some places become so connected with a particular time in life that going back can never be exactly the same. The younger version of me had arrived with a backpack, no reservation, and a month-long plan that became four months. The older version returned with much more travel experience and a better understanding of how important that first trip had been.

Diving became a larger part of the later visits. Belize has one of the great reef systems of the Caribbean, and getting underwater added another layer to a country I already loved from above the surface.

I also returned with a stronger appreciation for ecology. After years of field biology, hydrology, conservation work, and outdoor travel, I noticed natural systems differently. A reef was not just a beautiful place to dive. It was habitat, geology, water movement, species interactions, and a living system that deserved protection.

I still want to spend several more weeks in Belize with Kym. I would like to explore more of the mainland, revisit some of the islands, dive again, and see how the country feels during another long, unhurried stay.

Related Pages

Read the complete Central America story, continue to Guatemala, or browse the site map.