Longtime scuba divers with a been-there, done-that attitude can be difficult to impress. That’s what I expected from two swaggering Aussies with well-stamped passports I met during a dive outing in Belize. After a couple of drops along the country’s astounding barrier reef, I asked why they’d traveled halfway around the world, considering Australia’s reputation. “Don’t get us wrong, we love the Great Barrier,” said one. “But Belize — the atolls and islands — it’s just awesome. And you’ve got all these exploits on the mainland. It’s the full package, mate.”

Lucky little Belize does seem to have an envious bounty of natural assets everywhere you look. And like many emerging destinations where nature was once man’s adversary, there’s a modicum of irony between Belize’s past and present.

The earliest British explorers dismissed the region as treacherous for navigation and infested with lobster, nothing more than a dangerous backwater and pirates’ lair. In the 1600s, the Spanish set up camp in a bid to maintain control of their vast presence in the New World. As their empire crumbled, Belize was up for grabs; and the British established logging plantations. For nearly 300 years, Belize’s resources were plundered, but with ensuing colonial civility came profitable trade — namely timber, sugar and fishing. By the time British Honduras gained full independence from Great Britain in 1982, newly christened Belize was becoming a tourism magnet for divers and free-spirited backpackers.

The English-speaking country of 314,000 hopped on board the ecotourism trend and quickly established eight marine reserves spanning 3,000 square miles of protected waters along the entire coast. This includes its crown jewel, a 185-mile section of the Mesoamerican Reef — the world’s second-largest. Some 200 cayes are strewn throughout Belizean waters, teeming with more than 400 fish species and 65 kinds of coral. Three of only four atolls found in the Caribbean are here, anomalies Charles Darwin called “the richest and most remarkable coral reefs” in the region. After Jacques Cousteau famously proclaimed Belize one of the world’s top 10 diving destinations in the 1970s, its reputation was sealed.

The same environmental sensibilities extend shoreward. Belize formally protected 40 percent of its lands, such as Cayo District’s Mountain Pine Ridge and the vast coastal mangroves of the south. Its shady rainforests are alive with toucans, howler monkeys, jaguars and tapirs; and almost all of its near-immaculate tropical rivers run free. In the sparsely populated interior, earthy, sustenance-based villages seem to have germinated from the jungle. Some literally do. Around 600 Mayan archaeological sites have been identified and a handful reclaimed from the jungle, presenting an undeniable Indiana Jones appeal for travelers who don’t mind gritty exploits.

But even with so many tropical adventures for the taking, the prevailing mellow vibe here imparts no sense of urgency other than to kick back and enjoy this eco outpost on your own terms. Since landing in Ambergris Caye, the largest and northernmost caye in Belize, I’d been going nuts for encounters with affable reef fish at Hol Chan Marine Reserve and friendly stingrays at Shark Ray Alley, hotbeds for divers and snorkelers just four offshore miles from Ambergris. Come evenings, I socialized with my own species, savoring the Caribbean cuisine and knocking back a few local Belikin beers at the numerous cantinas, street vendors and resort restaurants stacked end to end in the mellow island town of San Pedro.

The prevailing scene in Ambergris Caye is diving by day and kicking up your flip-flops at night, and San Pedro is considered Belize’s best place to accomplish both. Even for non-divers, this town of 4,000 has enough mojo to keep a person pleasantly amused. Vacationers cruise the whimsical streets at all hours while locals do their best come-ons to lure diners, drinkers and shoppers. Small-scale hotels, restaurants, bars, street vendors and fishing and diving shops permeate the three main avenues. With its lazy overall buzz (accentuated by the ever-present, two-stroke golf carts and scooters zipping around), a visit to San Pedro becomes something of an urban safari, Caribbean style.

Most Belize dive trips begin in Ambergris Caye, a launching pad to an easy hundred dive sites within a couple of hours. The most spectacular dives are its three Caribbean atolls. Turneffe Atoll is the largest and closest to the mainland, and dives run the gamut from beginner to deeper descents such as Black Coral Wall, a stronghold of treasured black coral. Farthest south is Glover’s Reef, an 80-square-mile ring of brilliant coral with more than 700 shallow reefs in its interior and nearby currents that attract whale sharks. Lighthouse Reef, farthest from the mainland and with no resort, is home to the iconic Blue Hole. The ancient, perfectly circular limestone sinkhole measures 1,000 feet across, 480 feet deep and was made famous when Jacques Cousteau first explored the area in the ’70s aboard the Calypso.

Just offshore from Ambergris, I went overboard for a smorgasbord of Belize’s signature “spur-and-groove dives,” where you can float as weightless as an astronaut between coral ramparts decorated with colorful sponges, then descend into 100-foot-deep canyon grooves sprouting profuse marine life. For swim-throughs (passing through coral tunnels), it doesn’t get much better than the bizarre passageways of Renegade Canyon, seemingly created as an amusement park for divers.

Not more than a 12-minute flight from the Belize mainland sits Caye Caulker. This sliver of an island is a virtual time capsule that hasn’t changed much from its roots as a fishing village, boat builders’ enclave and ’70s hippie hangout. The island of about 1,200 native Hicaquenos — Caulker Islanders who originally found their way here during the Yucatan Caste War in 1848 — has an unhurried, undeveloped charm. Just offshore, the recently designated Caye Caulker Marine Reserve flaunts fishy reefs and canyons. Protection has its benefits, and you’ll see proof in the form of nonchalant nurse sharks and hammerheads, spotted eagle rays and thousands of reef fish immune to the presence of gawking divers.

The beauty of this Massachusetts-sized country is that tempting destinations are never far away. After a week’s worth of island time and reef diving, I was ready for the latter half of Belize’s surf ’n turf circuit exploring the mainland.

Belize’s western highlands in the Cayo District offer a bounty of must-see destinations. Xunantunich, a famed 2,400-year-old Mayan ceremonial center composed of six major plazas and surrounded by more than 25 temples, sits atop a limestone ridge and has sweeping views of the entire Cayo and adjoining Guatemalan countrysides. A gem of the country’s preservation efforts is Mountain Pine Ridge Forest Reserve, a 300-square-mile parcel endowed with a 1,000-foot waterfall, scores of swimming holes, walkable caves, indigenous Caribbean pines and an expansive hiking trail network. Tipping the scales in exotic adventure travel is an excursion at Actun Tunichil Muknal, the famed Cave of the Crystal Maiden, where able-bodied explorers negotiate an underground hiking and swimming course to the eerily crystallized remains of 14 humans. The Mayan burial chamber’s main attraction is the Crystal Maiden herself, the full skeleton of a young girl dating back hundreds of years.

There’s no better way to see central Belize than along the aptly named Hummingbird Highway connecting the Western Highway outside of Belmopan with the Southern Highway near the coastal town of Dangriga. The 56-mile highway was repaved in recent years and is among the best in Central America. Along the way, you can stop for traveler trophies like St. Herman’s Blue Hole National Park and St. Herman’s Cave, a 575-acre water world refuge home to jaguars, ocelots, tapirs and other jungle denizens. In Belize’s torrid interior, you’ll welcome a spectacular cool-off swim in the 300-foot-wide Blue Hole. It’s a sublime setting, with ever-present tropical birdsong and a verdant tapestry of foliage adding to the jungle allure. Seeing St. Herman’s Cave requires a sweaty-hot one-mile hike to its 200-foot-wide entrance. But visitors are rewarded with a labyrinth of underground grottos (bring flashlights and hiking shoes) littered with Mayan artifacts.

From Dangriga, I flew 45 minutes south to Punta Gorda in the remote Toledo District, where Belize adjoins the crook of Guatemala as it meets the Gulf of Honduras. A first impression might be a sense of being on the edge of a wild frontier. Dubbed the “forgotten” corner of Belize, the area was once sparingly colonized by ex-Confederate soldiers seeking asylum at the end of the American Civil War, along with arms dealers and a hodgepodge of religious settlers. Most didn’t last long, making hasty retreats from the brutal, unforgiving jungle. But the Methodist and Amish settlers persevered, and their descendants live here today in relative isolation and accordance with their religious beliefs.

The rugged Maya Mountain uplands and the languid Caribbean coast make Punta Gorda both an end-of-road outpost and a jumping-off point for explorations. But I had a few hours to kill before heading to a nearby ecolodge, so I wandered the five parallel streets lined with colorful, weathered clapboard homes on stilts while a rag-tag cluster of curious children of all complexions became my ad hoc tour guides. It doesn’t take much time to realize Punta Gorda is a perfect example of the melting pot that is Belize.

With nature being flaunted on all fronts, visitors are in an exhaustive state of near-rapture in Toledo. A compulsory part of any visit here is the Port Honduras Marine Reserve, a 160-square-mile protected zone including 138 dreamy cayes that are home to an armada of critters, including manatees. As our skiff approached the small mangrove islets, the low clumps materialized like emerald jewels scattered across turquoise-colored reefs, and we landed on the uninhabited Snake Caye. Being well off the tourist trail, water time here is contemplative and serene, with not a boat or another person in sight. We snorkeled a nearby reef, gliding through gazillions of fish and watching four-foot-long green sea turtles munching sea grass. A few hours on this overgrown sand spit and my castaway fantasies were fulfilled.

The earliest known inhabitants of southern Belize were the Manche Chol Maya. They remained unconquered throughout the 16th and 17th centuries, even as the Spanish attempted to rule and tax them. But the Chol, like other Mayan offshoots, eventually fell prey to European diseases that decimated their population. As the Mayan Civilization collapsed, the dense jungle gradually absorbed their great cities and villages.

Toledo didn’t give up its mystic Mayan secrets easily, and it wasn’t until the 1970s that several of its most intricate and complex Mayan ruins were located and excavations begun. About 25 miles north of Punta Gorda, Nim Li Punit — Big Hat — is one such treasure. Though it’s smaller in scale than those in neighboring Guatemala, it magnificently redeems itself not only with a see-forever hilltop panorama of the southern coastal plains but with its pièce de resistance: a 30-foot-tall carved stone slab, the tallest stela ever found in Belize. With the empty stone block plazas and 40-foot-tall step pyramids, all engulfed by the humid jungle, the setting is enchanting and the serenity (minus the eerie calls of howler monkeys) is absolute. But that’s in wild contrast with the settlement’s past. During the Late Classical Period of 700–800, Nim Li Punit was a hub of humanity; 5,000 to 7,000 Mayans are thought to have lived here until the city was rapidly abandoned in the ninth century for reasons archaeologists still debate.

If diving reefs is Belize’s signature activity in the sea, then exploring its many landlocked caves is the terra firma equivalent. One of the best is Blue Creek Cave or, in the local dialect, Hokeb Ha, “the place where the water comes out.” About 15 miles west from Punta Gorda, the rugged road slicing through the jungle invokes that end-of-the-Earth journey to a place where time becomes an abstract creation having little bearing.

The rustic community of San Miguel is the gateway to Blue Creek Cave, and my Q’eqchi guide and I scrambled like monkeys beside the utterly blue waters of the Blue River to the liquefied chasm. This isn’t for the faint of heart; it requires swimming into the outflow at the cave’s entrance into darkness, with headlamps illuminating the river as you swim upstream for 100-foot sections to rocky islets and sandbanks before continuing deeper. At about 600 yards in, we paused at a significant waterfall cascading out of the rock, where we turned off our headlamps and sat in an inkwell.

As bats swooped overhead, our exotic surroundings seemed magical. In the pure darkness with a guide who spoke no English, my nervousness turned to exhilaration, a thankful escape from the confines of civilized life at home.

Lodging

Belcampo Belize Lodge

Overlooking Laughing Falcon Rainforest Preserve, the sanctuary offers 12 hillside cabanas and a main lodge with fine dining, lounging areas and observation decks. P.O. Box 135, Punta Gorda $$$$

Blancaneaux Lodge

Francis Ford Coppola’s family retreat opened to the public in 1993, with spacious villas and cabanas in a spectacular setting. Mountain Pine Ridge Reserve, P.O. Box B, Central Farm, Cayo District $$$$

Ramon’s Village Resort

Enjoy a luxurious beachfront or garden-view thatched-roof cabana, an outdoor bar and restaurant, and the “best pool on the island.” Coconut Drive, San Pedro, Ambergris Caye $$$–$$$$

Dining

Capricorn Restaurant

Guests arrive by water taxi to enjoy intimate waterfront dining. Fresh produce and daily catches are paired with an excellent wine list. Northern end of Ambergris Caye $$$–$$$$

Marian’s Bayview Restaurant

Marian herself serves the best authentic food in Punta Gorda, with a menu that’s a mix of Indian and Belizean fare. 76 Front St., Punta Gorda $

Montagna Ristorante

The eminent restaurant provides classic Italian cuisine in a romantic tropical setting, with a nod to Coppola family recipes. Blancaneaux Lodge, Mountain Pine Ridge Reserve, Cayo District $$–$$$$

Info To Go

International flights arrive at Philip S.W. Goldson International Airport (BZE), located in Ladyville, about 30 minutes from the country’s central hub of Belize City. Taxis and car rentals are available, along with pre-arranged shuttle services provided by tourism agencies and lodges. Domestic flights servicing popular island and inland destinations depart daily. Belize charges visitors a departure tax of $32.50.

Links

Belize Tourism Board
Blancaneaux Lodge