From Solo Trip to a New Life in Belize 🇧🇿🌴

A year and a half ago, I booked my first solo trip—and chose Belize. I was looking for somewhere warm with no major language barrier and direct flights from Toronto. The trip was set for November 2023, but of course, life threw a curveball: I got mono from one of my students. (I’m a teacher, so it comes with the territory.)

Even a month later, I still wasn’t feeling 100%, but my doctor gave me the green light to travel and said I wasn’t contagious. So I packed my bags and my mom dropped me off at the airport. We traveled a lot growing up, so airports weren’t intimidating. My flight to Belize City went smoothly, and hopping on the tiny plane to San Pedro was such a fun start—it felt like a real adventure.

And then… reality hit.

I landed in San Pedro, still sick, no cell service, no clear idea where to go. My mom had told me I could walk to my hotel, so with my giant backpack on my back and a smaller one on my front, I stepped out of the airport. Taxi drivers instantly asking if I needed a ride, but I knew I was walking.

Half sure of the direction, I started walking down the street. I even stopped into a real estate office to ask for directions. “Yep, just keep walking,” the agent said. A few minutes later, he drove by on a golf cart and shouted, “You’re halfway there!”

Eventually, the road ended. I stood there, confused, when suddenly a man yelled down from his balcony, “Are you going to Sandbar?” (Yes, that was my hotel.) I was totally creeped out—how did he know?? When I hesitantly said yes, he pointed toward an alleyway and said, “Go down there, walk along the beach, and you’ll see it.”

I thought he had to be joking. An alleyway?! Alone? In a foreign country? But he insisted, yelling, “Yes, that! Go down there! Don’t worry—I got your back!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Only in Belize would a random stranger shout helpful directions and promise to watch your back. I walked (checking behind me every two seconds), and as I reached the beach, he called out, “Have a great trip!”

That was my first taste of the kindness and character of the Belizean people—and it was just the beginning.

The trip was magical. I felt safe the entire time, ate delicious food, and did all the touristy things. I did a day trip to Caye Caulker and fed the tarpons, had a couple Lizard Juices at The Split, and pet the stingrays at Iguana Reef. I met a local tour guide who invited me back to Caye Caulker a few days later to see the local side of the island. He took me to Northside and Koko King—it was such a chill, beautiful day. Then we came back to the south side and he showed me some of the more local restaurants and bars.

Halfway through the trip, I FaceTimed my mom and said, “I think I want to move here.” She was incredibly supportive (she always knew I’d move somewhere tropical someday). We started writing my resignation letter, looking at flights, and researching how to move with my dog. The trickiest part? Figuring out how to tell my dad. (Spoiler: He took it surprisingly well.)

You know that sad feeling you get when a vacation ends? I had that, but this time it felt different. I wasn’t just leaving paradise—I was coming back to it soon, for good. Time felt like it dragged on, but I spent those months selling my stuff, getting my dog’s vet paperwork ready, and listing my apartment for rent.

Four months later, I officially moved to Belize.

And I haven’t looked back. 🌞