Bound for Belize - How We Chose This Central American Country for Retirement

This will be our view every morning.

If that is not enough to at least entice you to visit Belize, allow me to expand on how we chose this Central American country for our retirement.

In 2001, I found myself unexpectedly unemployed. Single, 24, and with unlimited vacation days, I started to venture out on my own. Mind you, I had only received my passport three years earlier, when friends took me on a trip to Costa Rica. My family's idea of "vacation" growing up was to rent a cabin in driving distance - so Michigan, Pennsylvania, or New York. I am certain you are green with envy!

One of my friends suggested I try out Belize - it was affordable, popular with backpackers, and pretty safe for a solo woman traveler. I had to pull out an atlas to find Belize - yes, a paper one! The internet existed, but it was not yet the highly-functional, information-in-a-millisecond version of its current self.

I booked a 10-day solo trip for February 2002, staying in a $15/night room at Hotel Del Rio, just north of downtown San Pedro - the only town on Ambergris Caye, and the hub for tourism. 

Impossibly turquoise waters beckoned me from my desktop computer...

Upon landing at Belize International, I boarded a six-seater puddle jumper with TropicAir for the 15 minute flight to Ambergris Caye. This is the actual view.

My accommodations were basic, but had what I wanted - a private bathroom, a walkable location, and views of those incredible seas!

I walked everywhere, and lived like a local - I bought food from stalls, fresh orange juice from street vendors, and worked on my tan. I snorkeled for the first time in my life - on the second-largest barrier reef on Earth! No one hassled me, a single, young, American woman traveling alone.

When it came time to return to Nashville (my home at the time), I wept. I wanted to stay in San Pedro forever, but I wasn't brave enough to move internationally with no job, housing, or friends. That dream would have to wait.

Fast-forward 12 years: I am now married and living in Scottsdale, AZ.

For our fourth wedding anniversary, I suggested we vacation in San Pedro. I pulled up photos, flights, and reviews for my husband, Nathan - and he was on board! In fact, we had already been toying with the idea of leaving the U.S. Politics aside, we feel that priorities here don't align with ours, and we'd like to get away from the rat race and entitlement that has become so prevalent.

The draw to Belize was two-fold for us at this juncture:

1. It is close enough to the U.S. for Nathan's sons and our families to visit. We honeymooned in Bora Bora, and while breathtakingly gorgeous, it's geographically undesirable.

2. Belize's official language is English. I am too old and too lazy to learn a new language.

We found videos touting the investment potential for the Secret Beach area of Ambergris Caye - currently off-grid, it is on the west/leeward side of the island, so it's protected from storm surges. Land was incredibly affordable, especially compared to the east coast/reef-facing side of the island, where utilities were available. A developer had filled in and cut a road through the lagoon to allow golf carts to travel to the previously unreachable west coast. (Golf carts are the main mode of transportation on the island.)

We booked an appointment with a real estate agent for our trip down.

The hotel we were staying at, Corona Del Mar, had beach cruisers we could rent for the day. We packed up water, sunscreen, and towels, and took to the road on an adventure.

The first two miles are paved as we wove through town, up to the bridge. Once over, the pavement ended and we rode through mud, sand, potholes, and gravelly ruts for MILES.

There were no signs telling us when to turn west - we knew that there was only one road connecting the west and east sides of the island, but no frame of reference for where that was, so we would glance down any cut in the brush, driveway, or other path we viewed, wondering if that was "THE road".

I thought that we had planned accordingly and brought enough water, but riding a bike with no gears across rough terrain in 85f weather and probably 85% humidity really took it out of us - it became painfully obvious we did not pack enough water.

Just as I was losing hope, we saw a shack on the east side of the road, with an older lady waving us in - and she had a gift shop! She must've seen the desperation in our faces, and probably many faces before ours. Her 1L of bottled water was $5US, compared to $1US in town. I can't blame her for being an entrepreneur!

Back on our bikes, we rode a few miles further before finally finding the path west - through the lagoon, over a dirt-and-gravel road, just wide enough for 2 vehicles to pass eachother.

We peddled for what felt like miles, not seeing a single person on foot, bike, or in a vehicle.

The road dog-legged, and as we made the turn, the chain on Nathan's bike fell off - like, completely off of the bike. We have no tools, no cell reception, and no one knew where we were headed. I could sense the buzzards circling, and awaited a certain death, as Nathan futiley tried to reinstall the chain.

Out of nowhere like a white night, a Toyota Previa Minivan/Taxi appears and stops - even though he had a fare in his van! The driver hops out with tools and a can of WD-40 and asks if we needed help. YES SIR, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!

He deftly reassembled Nathan's bike, had him do a test-run to ensure it was properly fixed, then refused a tip that we offered him for his assistance - these are the people of Belize - they are so sweet, helpful and genuine, and this unselfish taxi driver really made a positive impression on us!

We're not out of the woods yet - upon reaching the "community" of Grand Belizean Estates, it's a jigsaw puzzle of half-cleared roads, no discernable signage, and after all of the bends and turns of the road, I have lost my sense of direction.

We aimlessly stumble down various streets, and upon taking another turn, we finally see what we have struggled for all day - the gin-clear waters of Ambergris Bay! I don't think we have ever pedaled harder or faster than we did in that moment.

At the water's edge, we hopped off our bikes and walked directly into the water - it was everything you would imagine when you picture a "Deserted Tropical Beach" - the water was SO clear, warm, with white sand reflecting back shadows and waves. Hundreds of tiny fish curiously darted through the water, checking us out. There wasn't a soul in sight. We walked out 100 feet and the water was only up to our waists. It was, literally, HEAVEN.

There was one blue house at the shore, and the GBE Dock that was built to shuttle prosepective buyers in and out by the developer, to sell them on The Dream - because trust me, by land it was NOT a dream!

We spent about an hour surveying the area, walking the lots, dreaming about one day living there. Most of the terrain was still natural, so there were a lot of trees and brush. It was so tranquil, we didn't want to leave! But we knew we had a long journey ahead, and there were no street lights, so we begrudgingly hopped back on the bikes, with a newfound excitement for Ambergris Caye!

A few days later, we were booked to meet with the real estate agent and get down to brass tacks. Apparently, he didn't take us that seriously, as he wasn't even on the island; he pawned us off on his assistant. Who had a four-seater golf cart. And was taking another couple out, as well.

The five of us cram into his cart to retrace that long, dusty road, over potholes and ruts. It was only mildly less uncomfortable crammed into a sweaty, overpacked golf cart than riding bikes.

Our cart-mates had already purchased land, sight-unseen, from Canada, being told they weren't on the water, but were very, very close. They planned to build a small home and a used bookstore.

As we winded through GBE, the assistant stopped the cart to show our new friends their lot:

It was swampy, and about as far as you could get from the stunning west coast water. 

The disappointment was palpable.

This younger couple had sunk their life savings into a dream that wasn't exactly on-par with what the agent had told them.

After that major disappointment, our cartmates were then subjected to riding out to the waterfront lots with us, to view property that we were interested in. We tried to downplay our excitement.

These lots didn't have road access yet - until an owner pays for one to go in, a road isn't cut, so you can either pony up the funds yourself, or play the waiting game and hope one of your neighbors puts in a road first. We traversed through underbrush and mosquitoes to view a handful of lots, each with postcard-perfect views.

In the end, the lots we desired weren't in our price-point at the time. After seeing the interior lots, we didn't want to "settle" and have regrets as our cartmates did.

Mortgages aren't available to non-Belizeans; transactions are all cash or if you are lucky, you can find a seller willing to offer short-term financing. The terms are usually aggressive - 10% down, 10% interest, with a two year balloon payment due.

It worked out for us in the end, though. Did we really want to use an agent that pawned us off on his assistant..? Not really.

We kept our eyes on the listings when we returned home to Scottsdale, and within a few months, the lot next to the only blue house - one lot north of the only east-west road - came to market, and the seller was offering financing. The lot was already filled and cleared, and definitely had road access!

After some negotiations, we came to an agreement and were land owners in Belize!