Touching Down in La Isla Bonita
Palm fronds sway over the white sand and turquoise water as I arrive at Ramon’s Village, a lush haven on Ambergris Caye. Stepping off the tiny propeller plane onto San Pedro’s minuscule island airstrip, I feel the warm Caribbean breeze hit my face. The approach by air is exhilarating – just minutes before landing, we skim low over a kaleidoscope of blues where the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef snakes along Ambergris Caye’s coast. From my window seat I spotted waves breaking on the reef crest and patches of bright coral shallows inside the lagoon. With a gentle thud, we touch down and taxi to the “terminal” (a single-story open-air shack). In true Belizean fashion, a friendly attendant hands me my bag right on the tarmac, and I’m soon hopping onto a golf cart taxi for the short ride into town.
San Pedro immediately charms me with its quirky traffic jam of golf carts and scooters. There’s not a traffic light in sight – just carts zipping along narrow sandy roads, their drivers waving hello as they pass. Within minutes, I’m at Ramon’s Village Resort, my home base for the trip. Thatched-roof cabanas peek out from lush tropical gardens, modeled after a Polynesian village. I check into a cozy hut steps from the beach, drop my bags, and wiggle my toes in the powdery sand. After years in the dive industry, I’ve stayed in all manner of dive lodges, but Ramon’s has a special retro-island vibe. The legendary founder, Ramon Nunez, is a San Pedro native and one of Belize’s pioneering divers – I’ve heard he’s often around the resort, spinning tales for guests. I make a mental note to seek him out later. For now, the call of the reef is impossible to resist.
First Descent: Ambergris Caye’s Underwater World
Early the next morning, I stroll down Ramon’s long wooden pier to their dive shop as the sun rises fiery orange over the Caribbean. The water is bathwater warm and gin-clear – I can literally see schools of yellow sergeant major fish milling under the dock. Our small dive boat is loaded up and the crew gives me a hearty welcome. As a long-time dive pro, I quietly assess the operation – well-maintained gear, safety-oriented briefings, and easy camaraderie. We motor just 10 minutes from shore to Hol Chan Marine Reserve, the island’s signature dive site. “Hol Chan” means “little channel,” referring to a natural cut in the reef that forms an underwater corridor. This protected area is famed as Belize’s second most popular snorkel and dive spot, and it’s easy to see why: the reef here is part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to thousands of fish and healthy corals.
Backrolling into the crystal-clear abyss, I feel that familiar thrill as bubbles cascade around me. We descend to about 30 feet (9 m) – Hol Chan is relatively shallow, which means brilliant light and long bottom times. Right away, a parade of marine life greets us. A juvenile green turtle paddles lazily by, unconcerned with our presence. I spot a squadron of southern stingrays half-buried in the sand, stirring up puffs of silt as they glide off. Purple sea fans sway in the mild current, and brain corals host Christmas-tree worms that retract as I approach. It’s clear this reef isn’t the most untouched or explosive I’ve seen in my global travels – some coral heads bear the marks of past storms or a bit of bleaching – but it’s vibrant in its own way. The sheer abundance of fish is impressive: blue tangs schooling in the dozens, stoplight parrotfish crunching algae, and even a sly moray eel peeking from a crevice.
Halfway through the dive, I’m focusing my camera on a feathery hydroid when I hear the distinctive echoing clicks and whistles that only one creature makes – dolphins! I look up from the reef to see a pod of bottlenose dolphins materialize at the edge of visibility. There are five of them, including a calf, and my heart skips a beat. They aren’t common sightings here, so this feels like a blessing. The dolphins swoop in curious loops around us. I pivot slowly, mesmerized, as one adult comes close enough for me to see the scars on her gray flank. In a flash, the pod moves on into the blue, gone as quickly as they appeared. The encounter leaves me grinning ear to ear into my regulator. Even after thousands of dives worldwide, a surprise like this reminds me why I love the ocean – it always holds a new delight.
Throughout the dive, our guide points out camouflaged critters I might have missed – a small nurse shark dozing under a ledge, and a pair of splendid toadfish (endemic to Belize) hiding within tube sponges. By dive’s end, I’m impressed with Hol Chan. No, it’s not the most jaw-dropping coral garden in the world, but it offers gentle conditions, fantastic sea life, and a relaxed beauty that’s perfect for enjoying the moment. We slowly ascend, and I notice the sunlight above is dappling the surface – time for a break in the tropical sunshine.
Surface Interval at Shark Ray Alley
Back on board, everyone is animatedly chatting about the dolphin encounter. We decide to spend our surface interval at a spot just adjacent to Hol Chan known as Shark Ray Alley. This shallow sandbar area (only ~8-10 feet deep) is famous for its resident nurse sharks and stingrays, which have learned to approach boats after years of fishermen cleaning their catch here. As soon as our boat moors, dark shapes materialize under the boat. “Time to snorkel!” the divemaster grins. I grab my mask and slip over the side.
The scene that unfolds is straight out of a NatGeo documentary: dozens of nurse sharks circling below like curious puppies. Several southern stingrays sweep in, their wide wings undulating. It’s a frenzy of activity, but surprisingly graceful. The nurse sharks, some 4-6 feet long, weave around us calmly; one bumps gently into my fins, then darts off. These sharks are completely docile and used to humans, yet my pulse quickens at the sheer proximity of so many apex predators-turned-pussycats. A couple of bold loggerhead turtles also join the party, likely attracted by the commotion. I float on the surface, astonished and delighted as a swirl of marine life moves beneath me. The experience is tinged with touristy flair, sure – it’s essentially an artificial congregation brought on by habit – but I can’t deny the childlike excitement bubbling up in me. There’s something magical about locking eyes with a shark in its own environment. I dive down briefly to swim alongside a particularly large nurse shark, trailing my hand a safe distance above her sandy-brown body. Her tail swings lazily and I notice small cleaner fish hitching a ride on her belly.
Up on the boat, the crew tells us that to local guides, these sharks are almost like an extended family. In fact, they joke that the sharks are the official “welcoming committee” of Shark Ray Alley – and it truly does feel like a warm welcome from the sea. It’s a perfect interlude between dives. As we munch on fresh pineapple slices and sip water, I soak in the surroundings: the sun is high and hot, glinting off the cerulean water, and laughter bounces around the boat as everyone relives their favorite moments. This is what a surface interval should be – not just a wait to off-gas nitrogen, but a chance to embrace the environment in a different way.
Refreshed and buzzing with energy, we gear up for our second dive of the morning at a nearby patch reef. It yields more treats – an eagle ray gliding past in the blue, and an encounter with a nurse shark underwater (likely one of our new friends from Shark Ray Alley following us out). By the time we head back to San Pedro for lunch, I’ve logged two satisfying dives and one epic snorkel, and it’s not even noon.
Island Afternoon: Tacos, Siestas and Strolls
Diving in warm water has a way of making you deliciously hungry and lazy afterward. Once back on land, I rinse my gear and head into town for a bite. San Pedro’s dusty streets are now fully awake, with golf carts whizzing by and vendors calling out daily specials. I wander in flip-flops until I find a shaded stall selling fish tacos and lime juice. Perching on a plastic stool, I devour the fresh catch-of-the-day tacos – crispy snapper topped with cabbage and tangy pico de gallo, all washed down with ice-cold limeade. The simple food in Belize just hits the spot after a dive.
Meal finished, I give in to the island pace and retreat to a hammock by the beach at Ramon’s. The palm fronds rustle overhead and the distant sound of reggae music drifts on the breeze from a beach bar down the shore. Swaying in the hammock, I’m lulled into a blissful nap within minutes. There’s something to be said for a place where you can dive all morning and snooze under a coconut tree all afternoon without a care in the world.
Later, I take a leisurely walk around San Pedro town. Colorful clapboard houses line the sandy roads, many converted into cafes, shops, or small inns. I peek into a few art galleries featuring local Garifuna and Maya-inspired paintings. Children in school uniforms giggle their way home, and I exchange smiles with locals sitting on their porches. Despite being Belize’s most popular island, San Pedro still feels like a tight-knit community. Everyone seems to know everyone, and as a visitor I’m greeted with genuine warmth. I chat with a vendor selling coconut water; he chops open a young coconut with a machete and hands it to me with a straw. We talk about the recent weather and the morning’s dive. He chuckles when I mention Shark Ray Alley – “Those nurse sharks, they know the sound of the boat engines, man. Smart creatures!” he says.
I notice that many buildings sport signs with fun slogans like “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem” and the island’s nickname “La Isla Bonita” (made famous, of course, by the Madonna song which locals are both proud of and a tiny bit tired of hearing). Every few minutes, a golf cart hums by, sometimes carrying a family in beachwear, other times a couple of tank-topped tourists lost in the grid of little streets. There are very few cars here; golf carts truly rule the road. It’s a novelty that never gets old during my stay – in San Pedro, even the “traffic” puts a smile on your face.
The Call of the Fire Hearth – Dinner at El Fogon
By evening, my appetite has roared back, and I already know where I’m headed: El Fogon, my favorite San Pedro restaurant discovered on day one. “El fogón” means the fire hearth in Spanish, and this unassuming eatery truly lives up to its name. Tucked on a side street in town, El Fogon is basically a large sand-floor shack with an open-air kitchen in back, where a traditional wood-burning stove (the fogon) cooks up Belizean family recipes. The first time I ate here, the rich, smoky aroma of stewed meat hit me before I even sat down. On that initial visit, I tried their classic Belizean stewed chicken with rice and beans – a staple dish done to perfection, with fall-off-the-bone tender chicken in a savory gravy, plus coconut-infused rice, fried plantains, and a scoop of potato salad on the side. It was so good I came back the next day for lunch and again for dinner! Now, as a semi-regular in the span of a week, I feel a bit like family; the waitress even remembers my name and asks how the diving went today.
Tonight I’m craving seafood. I order the conch fritters to start – a house specialty that local friends insisted I try. They arrive golden-brown and crispy, packed with flavorful conch and herbs, with a spicy mayo dip. One bite and I understand why there’s a fan club for these fritters (some say they’re the best on the island, and I’m inclined to agree). For the main course, I go with a bowl of traditional Belizean fish stew, loaded with snapper, root vegetables, and coconut milk, all simmered over the wood fire for hours. As I dine, a gentle island breeze wafts through the open windows, and the sounds of distant live music and laughter filter in. El Fogon has no pretension – plastic chairs, paper placemats, and big portions – but it delivers soul-satisfying food that speaks to the heart of Belizean culture. By my third visit, I’ve sampled everything from slow-cooked pork stew to a zesty conch ceviche, and I haven’t been disappointed once. It’s easy to see why I keep coming back; this place feels authentic and homely, a taste of the real San Pedro.
I linger after my meal, chatting with the staff and sipping a Belizean rum punch for dessert. There’s a delightful mix of tourists and locals here, all laughing and swapping stories over dinner. The atmosphere is convivial – by the end of the night, I’ve joined a table of fellow divers from Canada at the bar, and we toast to a great day underwater. In San Pedro, it seems, strangers become friends easily, especially when bonding over a shared love of the sea (and good food).
After-Dark Adventures: Night Dive Thrills
One of the highlights of my trip is a spontaneous night dive back at Hol Chan Marine Reserve. After hearing my enthusiastic review of the marine life, a couple of other experienced divers at Ramon’s Village are keen to go see it after sunset. The dive shop organizes a guide and boat for us, and just after twilight we find ourselves gearing up under a star-studded sky. The island’s lights twinkle in the distance as we backroll into inky black water, our dive lights slicing through the darkness. Descending at night is a sensory rush – without the sunlight, your world narrows to the cone of your torch beam, and familiar sites suddenly feel mysterious and new.
Within minutes, we realize the reef has transformed. By day it was busy with fish; by night, the vibe is entirely different – quieter in some ways, but with predators on the prowl. Our lights catch the reflective eyes of reef tarpon patrolling the channel; these silver giants shadow us, using our beams to ambush smaller fish attracted to the light. It’s a clever hunting tactic I’ve seen before, and sure enough, we witness a tarpon swoop in to swallow an unlucky grunt illuminated by a diver’s torch. We hover over the sand flats and spot numerous southern stingrays cruising, more active than in daytime. I nearly clap with glee when our guide’s light falls upon an octopus creeping out of its lair. The octopus is mid-hunt, tentacles exploring crevices for a midnight snack. It suddenly flashes a camouflaging pattern and jets away, leaving us amazed at its quick change artistry. Moments later, a second, larger octopus is seen curled on a coral head – two octopus sightings on one dive, a rare treat!
As an experienced diver, I’ve done my fair share of night dives, but there’s something uniquely enchanting about this one. The current is gentle, the depth shallow (~20 feet), and the bioluminescence is on full display. At one point, our group kneels in a circle on a sandy patch and turns off our lights. We wave our hands through the water, and the darkness erupts in a shower of blue-green sparkles – bioluminescent plankton igniting at our touch. I feel like a kid witnessing magic. Above us, if I look up, I can just make out a faint shimmer of moonlight, and I imagine the stars beyond. It’s hard to tell where the sky ends and the sea begins; both are speckled with tiny lights.
The dive continues as we slowly make our way along the reef’s edge. A Caribbean reef lobster waves antennae at us from under a ledge, and nearby a pair of red glowing orbs reveals a Spanish slipper lobster trudging along the bottom. We encounter a large spiny pufferfish calmly sleeping in a nook (adorable!), and a feisty yellow stingray that nearly darts between my legs. One of my favorite moments is when a huge channel grouper decides to tag along, practically becoming part of our dive team. He follows right beside me for a good 10 minutes, hoping my light will betray more snack-sized fish. I chuckle into my regulator – it’s like having a big underwater dog at my side.
By the time we ascend, I’m exhilarated. The night air feels extra warm as we climb back on the boat, everyone talking over each other about what we saw. Floating there, we take a moment to gaze at the land – the glow of San Pedro’s shoreline is a reminder of how close we are to civilization, yet out here on the dark sea we felt a million miles away. Above, the Milky Way is visible in a stripe across the sky. I lean back, still in my wetsuit, and absorb the scene: the silhouettes of palm trees on the shore, the distant thump of music from a beach bar, and the afterglow of a night dive well done. If diving the same site during the day was great, seeing it at night brought a whole new dimension of magic. It’s like peeling back a layer and discovering a secret nightlife under the surface. Belize has truly shown me two different faces of its reef, both equally captivating.
Rum Punch and Reggae: San Pedro Nightlife
After our night dive, we rinse off and decide to see what San Pedro’s nightlife is all about. Despite being pleasantly tired, the island’s welcoming energy draws me out. We stroll down to the beachfront where a string of open-air bars beckons with twinkling lights and the sound of reggae and Latin music. San Pedro isn’t a party-hard destination in the way of big tourist towns – by midnight things quiet down – but in the evening hours it certainly has a playful pulse. Our first stop is a beach bar where a Garifuna drum band is playing upbeat Punta music, hips swaying everywhere on the sand dance floor. With a Belikin beer in hand (the local brew), I find myself dancing barefoot alongside locals and fellow travelers, laughing each time I fumble the steps to the catchy Belizean rhythms. The vibe is infectious; nobody cares how you dance or if you’re a dive-bum with salt in your hair. It’s all about good vibes and inclusivity.
We meander down the main drag (Barrier Reef Drive), peeking into lively spots. At Wahoo’s Lounge, a crowd has gathered for the famed “Chicken Drop” – a weekly island tradition that’s part bingo, part comedy show, involving a live chicken and a numbered grid on the floor (yes, it’s as absurd and amusing as it sounds). I join the spectators cheering and groaning as a rather confused chicken eventually “selects” a winning number in, well, natural fashion. It’s impossible not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. A bit later, we pop by Palapa Bar & Grill, an iconic tavern perched on a dock over the water. Strings of lights reflect on the sea as we sip tropical rum cocktails. I strike up a conversation with a couple from Texas celebrating their 100th dive – they rave about their Blue Hole trip (something I’ve saved for another time) and we clink glasses to honor dive milestones.
Throughout the night, I keep noticing how friendly and easygoing everyone is. San Pedro at night feels safe and convivial – you end up saying hello to people you recognize from the dive boat or the hotel, and soon a pub crawl turns into a group outing of newfound friends. We finish our evening at a little reggae bar called Crazy Canucks, where a local DJ is spinning a mix of Bob Marley and Belizean soca tunes. Under a crescent moon, with the palm trees swaying overhead and a gentle sea breeze cooling our sun-kissed skin, I feel utterly content. This is the other side of a dive trip that sometimes gets overlooked: the topside fun, the cultural immersion, the human connections. In San Pedro, the days are filled with the thrill of the dive, and the nights remind you that you’re in the Caribbean – a place that knows how to celebrate life in every sense.
A Chat with a Legend – Meeting Ramon
On my last full day, I have the chance to meet the man whose name has been all over my San Pedro experience: Ramon Nunez, the original founder of Ramon’s Village. I spot an older gentleman with an effortless island swagger walking the resort grounds mid-morning, greeting staff and guests alike. He’s wearing a faded t-shirt with a dive flag on it, and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. It can only be Ramon. Summoning some courage (even as a dive industry veteran, I admit I was a bit star-struck), I introduce myself. Ramon breaks into a warm smile and clasps my hand. Before I know it, we’re sitting in the shade of a coconut tree by the beach, and he’s regaling me with stories from “back in the day.”
Over an impromptu chat, Ramon shares how he fell in love with the sea as a boy in San Pedro when it was just a sleepy fishing village. He tells me about becoming the first certified scuba diver in Belize, back when scuba gear itself was a novelty on the island. My eyes widen as he casually mentions guiding the famous ocean explorer Jacques Cousteau in 1971 (the year I was born), when Cousteau came to Belize to dive the Great Blue Hole. Ramon humbly recounts how he led Cousteau’s team through the Blue Hole’s depths and around Lighthouse Reef. I realize I’m sitting next to a living legend – a piece of dive history personified – listening to him describe Jacques Cousteau’s astonishment at Belize’s underwater caves. For a dive geek like me, this is pure gold.
Ramon also shares local folklore and a slice of San Pedro’s transformation. He points to where the first hotel on the island stood (long gone now) and describes surviving Hurricane Hattie in 1961, which flattened the caye. “We rebuilt from nothing but our spirit,” he says softly, gazing at the horizon. He jokes about how he started Ramon’s Village in the early 1980s almost by accident – he showed some visiting Americans a prime beach spot and next thing he knew, he was managing a resort named after him. Though he sold the resort years ago, it’s clear this is still his baby, and he spends plenty of time here chatting with guests and staff. I hang onto every word of Ramon’s tales – from the days of spear fishing and lobster diving for survival, to hosting celebrity divers and witnessing San Pedro grow into the bustling little town it is today.
What strikes me most is Ramon’s passion for the sea has never waned. Even after a lifetime underwater, he speaks about the reef with childlike excitement, much like I felt when those dolphins appeared on my dive. We end up laughing like old friends when he tells a humorous story of a guest who panicked seeing a harmless nurse shark and climbed up the boat ladder without her bikini bottoms (left in the shark’s mouth – “Don’t worry, the shark spit them out!” he chuckles). As we part, Ramon gives me a firm handshake and says, “Keep diving and share our Belize waters with the world.” That simple blessing feels profound. Meeting Ramon was the cherry on top of this trip – a connection to the soul of San Pedro and its dive heritage. I walked away inspired, with a deeper appreciation of how far this destination has come, guided by pioneers like him.
Reflections on Ambergris Caye: A Balanced Beauty
On my final morning, I take a slow solo walk along the beach in front of Ramon’s Village. The sun is just peeking over the reef, painting the sky in pastels. I like to have these quiet moments to reflect after a dive trip, and San Pedro gives me plenty to think about. Ambergris Caye’s reef may not be the most pristine or adrenaline-packed site I’ve dived – it lacks the towering walls of some far-flung atolls or the big pelagics of the Pacific – but it has its own gentle, captivating charm. The dives here are easy and teeming with life: I’ll never forget the turtle traffic jams, the ballet of stingrays, or that surprise pod of dolphins dancing on the edge of my vision. The accessibility of the sites (all just minutes from shore) means you can pack in so much aquatic adventure and still have your afternoons free to explore. For a veteran diver like me, Ambergris Caye offered a wonderful reminder that not every great dive spot has to knock your socks off with extreme depth or world-record biodiversity; some win you over with warm water, reliable marine friends, and a laid-back rhythm that makes every dive pure enjoyment.
What truly sets this trip apart, though, is the balance between diving and surface life. San Pedro has a way of embracing you – from the moment you land in that quirky little airport to the nights spent dancing under the stars. It’s one of those rare dive destinations where the topside memories are just as vivid as the underwater ones. I’ll remember zipping down sandy lanes on a golf cart with the wind in my hair, the savory smell of El Fogon’s fire hearth, the laughter of locals at the night’s chicken drop, and the sound of Ramon’s voice sharing wisdom by the sea. The island’s motto could well be “go slow and savor it all.” I came here for the diving – and it was lovely, honest diving – but I leave with an album of holistic experiences: nature, culture, food, community, history.
San Pedro, Belize showed me that even after countless dive trips, there are places that can still surprise and rejuvenate you in unexpected ways. It’s not the tallest coral pinnacle or the fanciest yacht trip – it’s real and unfiltered. Ambergris Caye’s reef gave me calm and wonder beneath the waves, and the town gave me friendship and fun above them. That combination is worth its weight in gold. As I pack my gear and prepare to say goodbye to La Isla Bonita, I feel a swell of gratitude. I came as a diver chasing the next adventure, and I’m leaving a bit in love with an island and its people. Belize, you’ve won a piece of my heart – I have a feeling I’ll be back for more surface intervals and stories in San Pedro’s embrace.
Before I board my plane, I squeeze in one more stop at El Fogon (yes, again!) for a takeaway lunch of stewed pork to savor on the journey home. A couple of local friends come to wave me off at the airport – a gesture that touches me deeply. As the small plane roars up and I see Ambergris Caye shrinking below, I’m already daydreaming of my next trip: the reefs that will still be there, the sharks and turtles going about their day, and the familiar faces waiting with a smile. For now, I’ll say: thank you San Pedro – it truly was un-Belize-able.
FAQ: Diving & Travel Tips for San Pedro, Belize
- Is Ambergris Caye’s diving good for experienced divers or only beginners?
A: Ambergris Caye offers enjoyable diving for all levels. The sites like Hol Chan are shallow (30-60 ft) and easy, which is great for new divers, but there is plenty of marine life (nurse sharks, turtles, rays, even occasional dolphins) to keep experienced divers entertained. As a seasoned diver, I loved the relaxed dives and the macro life. While you won’t get deep walls or big pelagics on regular local dives, you can still find thrilling encounters and beautiful reef scenes. For more advanced challenges, many experienced divers do a day trip to the Great Blue Hole or the outer atolls, which offer deeper dives and different terrain – so there’s something for everyone. - What marine life can I expect to see around San Pedro?
A: The marine life is abundant and diverse considering the proximity to town. You will almost certainly encounter friendly nurse sharks (especially at Shark Ray Alley), various species of rays (southern stingrays and eagle rays are common), and sea turtles (green and hawksbill turtles frequently graze in the seagrass beds). There are healthy fish populations: snappers, groupers, angelfish, parrotfish, trumpetfish – the reef is like a big aquarium. If you’re lucky, you might spot dolphins during a dive or boat ride, as I did. On night dives, nocturnal creatures like octopuses, lobsters, and tarpon come out. It’s not as shark-heavy as some destinations (aside from the nurse sharks), but the ecosystem is vibrant. Hol Chan Marine Reserve is especially rich in life due to its protected status, making it a must-do. - How does the night diving experience in San Pedro compare to day dives?
A: Night diving here is a must-try if you are comfortable underwater after dark. The same sites you visit by day transform at night – you’ll see different behaviors and species. For example, at Hol Chan we saw multiple octopuses, hunting stingrays, and tarpon using our lights to feed. The coral itself can look more vivid under torch light, and you might spot sleeping parrotfish in their cocoons or bioluminescent plankton when you turn your light off. The conditions are generally calm at night with minimal current, and depths are shallow, so it’s a relatively easy night dive suitable even for those with limited night experience (with a guide, of course). Always communicate with your dive operator – Ramon’s Village and other shops offer guided night dives and will ensure you have the proper equipment (like a good primary light and backup light). In short, night dives add a new layer of magic to Ambergris Caye’s reef and are highly recommended. - What is the best way to get to San Pedro, Ambergris Caye?
A: The two main ways to reach San Pedro are by air or by sea from Belize City. The quickest is a 15-minute Tropic Air or Maya Island Air flight from Belize City’s domestic airport (or from the international airport). The planes are small (usually 14-seater Cessnas), and the flight is spectacular – you get aerial views of the reef and cayes. It’s a little pricier than the boat but saves time and offers a great experience (keep your camera handy for the views!). The other option is the water taxi/ferry, which takes about 1.5 to 2 hours from Belize City to San Pedro. The ferry is cheaper and can be fun if you like boat rides; it’s a large speedboat that locals also use to hop between islands. If you have a lot of luggage or are prone to seasickness, the flight might be more comfortable. I took the flight in, which was stunning, and some travelers take the ferry one way and fly the other for variety. Both options are safe and reliable – it really comes down to budget and schedule. Either way, you’ll end up right in the heart of San Pedro when you arrive. - When is the best time of year to dive in San Pedro, Belize?
A: Belize is a year-round dive destination, but there are some seasonal considerations. The dry season roughly runs from November to May – this period generally offers the calmest seas and most sunshine, so it’s ideal for diving and island life. June to October is the wetter season, with more frequent rain and a higher chance of tropical storms or hurricanes (especially August through October). However, even in rainy season, you often get clear mornings and the rain comes in short bursts. Water temperatures range from about 79°F (26°C) in winter to 84°F (29°C) in summer, so it’s warm year-round (most people are comfortable in a 3mm wetsuit or even just a rash guard in summer). Visibility can exceed 80+ feet in good conditions, especially in late winter and spring. I visited in the spring and enjoyed topside sunshine and great vis underwater. If you’re keen on seeing certain animals, note that whale sharks are seen (in southern Belize) around April-May during the full moons, and manatees sometimes in summer. But around Ambergris Caye specifically, the usual cast of turtles, sharks, and reef fish are present all year. Avoiding the peak of hurricane season is wise, but otherwise, you can’t go wrong whenever you choose to come. - What can non-divers or visitors on “dry days” do for fun on Ambergris Caye?
A: San Pedro and Ambergris Caye have plenty to offer aside from diving, making it great if you have family or friends who don’t dive, or if you want a day off. Snorkeling is the number one activity – places like Hol Chan and Shark Ray Alley are just as amazing from the surface. Even non-swimmers can enjoy Glass-bottom boat tours to see the reef. On the island, you can rent a golf cart and explore – head north or south of town to find tranquil beaches or visit Secret Beach (a popular spot on the west side of the caye with calm shallow water and beach bars). Fishing trips (fly-fishing for bonefish or deep-sea fishing) are popular too. In town, there are cute shops, art galleries, and the Belize Chocolate Company where you can sample local chocolate. Foodies can take a cooking class or simply indulge in the wide range of eateries (from street tacos to gourmet dining). For a cultural day, you might hop a ferry to Caye Caulker (a smaller, even more laid-back island nearby) or take a day trip to the mainland to tour Maya ruins like Lamanai or go cave tubing in the jungle – yes, those are doable as day trips! And of course, simply relaxing on the beach or by the pool with a good book is a beloved pastime here. San Pedro also has lively nightlife and live music, so non-divers won’t be bored. The vibe is “no shirt, no shoes, no problem” – there’s always something to do, or the option to do nothing at all and just enjoy paradise. - Do I need to rent a golf cart to get around San Pedro?
A: While not absolutely necessary, renting a golf cart is part of the fun on Ambergris Caye and highly recommended if you want to explore beyond walking distance. San Pedro town itself is fairly compact – you can walk many places in the center. Ramon’s Village, for example, is just a 10-minute stroll from the town core. But the island is about 25 miles long, and if you want to visit spots like Secret Beach on the far side of the island or go further north to other resorts and bars, a golf cart is the main way (there are virtually no cars for rent, and taxis are often golf carts too!). Rentals are easy to find and typically cost around $40-60 USD per day, with discounts for multi-day. The roads in town are paved or packed sand and a bit bumpy, but that’s part of the adventure. Just remember: drive slowly and watch out for speed bumps (there are many!). Also, no drinking and driving – police do patrol even for golf carts. If you stay within town and immediate outskirts, you might not need one 24/7, but having a cart for a day or two to sightsee the island is a fantastic experience. Alternatively, many hotels can arrange shuttles or boat transfers to specific spots. In my case, I mostly walked in town and used a cart when I wanted to roam farther. So it’s up to your itinerary and desire for spontaneity. Either way, experiencing the island “traffic” (and yes, that means a conga line of golf carts) is a uniquely San Pedro joy. - Is San Pedro’s nightlife safe and what’s the dress code?
A: San Pedro’s nightlife is generally laid-back, friendly, and safe. I felt comfortable wandering around in the evenings; the main areas are well-lit and populated by tourists and locals enjoying bars and restaurants. Of course, you should take normal precautions like not flashing valuables and sticking to areas where other people are around, but I never encountered any trouble. The local community is welcoming, and it’s common to strike up conversations at bars or events (trivia nights, live music shows, etc.). As for dress code – this is a casual island through and through. By night, most people are still in what I’d call beach-casual attire: shorts, sundresses, sandals, t-shirts. There’s no need for formal wear at any restaurant or club here. In fact, many bars are literally on the sand, so barefoot is fine. I often went out in the same shorts and shirt I’d worn in the afternoon (maybe after a quick shower to rinse off salt and sand). If you’re coming straight from a fancy city, it might feel too casual, but that’s the charm – you can relax and be comfortable. One thing to note: mosquitoes can come out at dusk, so a bit of bug spray on your legs can be a smart addition to your “evening outfit.” Overall, the nightlife vibe is come-as-you-are. Whether you join the crowd for karaoke at Pedro’s Inn or sip a cocktail at a beachfront lounge, you’ll find it easy to have a good time in San Pedro’s safe and easygoing night scene.
