Back in the late 1990s, I went on a personal quest for a tropical paradise. For one thing, I wanted to get away from the cold winters of Canada’s Alberta foothills, but I was too restless and too young to just head south and flop on a beach. First I tried the Caribbean, but it was overcrowded and overpriced. I was born too late to get started there. The best spots in the Caribbean were developed twenty or more years before I set out on my search.
The prime parts of Mexico were also overdeveloped. A forest of high-rises filled with tourists on package tours was not my idea of paradise. I prefer boutique hotels to mega-resorts. So I started looking in Central America. Costa Rica attracted me. What’s not to like? It’s peaceful and prosperous with everything from mountains to beaches and a democratic government to boot. I bought some land and embarked on a small venture.
Working in western Canada, based in the free-market province of Alberta, I was spoiled, plain and simple. Titles pass easily through the system, as they do in the United States. Throughout much of the English-speaking world, the land survey regime is open, accurate, and, above all, easy to understand if you move from one place to another.

I considered Costa Rica. It is a wonderful country; however, I discovered, after spending time in the capital, San José, and travelling throughout the country, that it was already developed and prices were too high to get in on the ground floor. It seemed that the elevator had left the lobby long ago. Another problem is the country’s legal and land-transfer systems. Frankly, it is a nightmare. For someone used to British common law and the transparency at work in countries such as Canada, the United States, and the United Kingdom, Costa Rica and other Central American countries, as well as Mexico, are very frustrating places to invest. The laws are based on the old Spanish civil code. Everything is in Spanish. It means lost time, money, and endless frustration.
You might think that because of all this I would have run. However, I was young and impatient to prove my investment savvy. So, I bought some property. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had made a mistake. I took a hard look at the place and decided, after I owned property there for a short while, that the country was not for me. I quickly soured on Costa Rica as a place to live and make money.
While I waited to sell my property, I looked at the map, and saw Belize, formerly known as British Honduras. It wasn’t a random flip through the atlas; a friend of mine tipped me off to the place.

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My first trip to Belize convinced me it was the spot: an undeveloped, affordable paradise with everything going for it.
I quickly found that there were big differences between Spanish-speaking Costa Rica and English- speaking Belize, not the least of which was language. The common language and culture may explain the friendliness toward Americans and other English speakers in Belize — something that is noticeably different from the kind of grouchiness that exists in many parts of Spanish-speaking Latin America and even in some of the other English-speaking countries in the Caribbean.
From my experience — and I am a man of colour — they embrace all newcomers in Belize. In the town of San Pedro on the island of Ambergris Caye, where I spend a lot of my time when I’m in Belize, visitors are treated as if they are locals, which to my mind is the highest compliment. There are three main streets in the town, with the beach at one end, and the ferry terminal at the other. Simple. And that’s how life is there, too. It is difficult to describe just how friendly the place really is without seeing it with your own eyes.
Not only is there respect for people of all types, there is also respect for private property here — something that is very much part of the British heritage of Belize. This means that the state doesn’t act in an arbitrary way, enacting laws that penalize foreign property owners, as often happens in neighbouring Mexico. This respect for property means the law makes it extremely difficult for people to seize property under so-called squatters’ rights. That sets it apart from most Latin American countries.