Ambergris Caye

Ambergris Caye is a forty-kilometre sliver of sand and mangrove where Belize keeps its beach life, a kilometre from the longest barrier reef in the northern hemisphere: the coral runs the whole length of the island like a second, submerged coast, and the sea between is a shallow, glass-clear lagoon. San Pedro, the one town, runs on golf carts over sandy streets, on lobster in season and rum at sunset, and on the water taxis and small planes that tie it to the mainland; a pop song made it 'La Isla Bonita' in the eighties, and it has been amiably living up to the name since.

The traveller snorkels or dives every morning it can — Hol Chan Marine Reserve for the coral canyons and Shark Ray Alley for the nurse sharks and rays that swim up to the boat —; takes the day trip out to the Great Blue Hole and Lighthouse Reef, by boat or, better, by the plane that shows the hole's perfect circle; rides a golf cart north to Secret Beach on the calm lagoon side; eats fry jacks for breakfast and grilled snapper for dinner; hops to Caye Caulker, the smaller, slower neighbour; and lets the afternoons go to hammocks and the evenings to San Pedro's docks.

The Guide's honesty: the reef is why you come and it is fragile — reef-safe cream, no touching, and operators who anchor on buoys keep it alive —; the island is not cheap by Central American measure, and prices rise toward the resorts of the north; sargassum lands some summers and clears the eastern beaches for weeks; the sun on the water is fiercer than the breeze admits; and Belize's real currency is the mix — English spoken, dollars pegged, Maya, Creole, Garifuna and mestizo tables sharing the same street.