Here's a portion of an article published last year in the Washington Post.
In terms of staying on the north end, I tend to agree with the article's line: "That's 1 for the resort, 0 for the gringos." That's just my opinion, but I want the option of being a little closer to stores, restaurants, etc. (P.S. The author is totally right on about JamBel!)
From the article:
"This place reminds me of Key West 30 years ago," a newcomer comments as he steps out of the little prop plane at the San Pedro airport, on Ambergris (pronounced am-BER-griss) Caye (pronounced key). It's a Jimmy Buffett kind of town, with hard-packed sand streets, lots of semi-comatose dogs lying around, a surfeit of bars ranging from slick to seedy, and an exceedingly amiable citizenry, most wearing flip-flops. Everyone uses golf carts to get around. Just a nice feel to the place.
We've booked into a secluded resort a few miles up the coast -- a big mistake, since we soon get bored way out there and end up spending $40 apiece each day going back and forth to San Pedro for lunch and dinner. But we don't know that yet.
Our first night, we dine at our resort, which is featuring Mexican Night. This involves an overpriced buffet of uninspired food and a potbellied mariachi singing "Teen Angel" soulfully in Spanish. That's 1 for the resort, 0 for the gringos.
So during our three days on the island, we become regulars on the water taxi circuit, joining resort workers, locals and visitors on the amusement park-style speedboat rides going back and forth to San Pedro. Schedules can be a little erratic.
In San Pedro, there are galleries to browse, hotels to scope out for future visits, bars and restaurants to sample. The locals rave about Capricorn, which offers gourmet food in a romantic setting and requires reservations well in advance. But this sounds like the sort of thing we came to Belize to escape from, so we end up in places like Cholo's, where we sit on plastic chairs under a palm tree in the sand and drink $1.50 rum-and-Cokes.
We love the coconut pie at Caliente's, where you sit on a first-floor balcony overlooking the beach, and the conch ceviche at Celi's, an island institution.
But our favorite spot is JamBel Jerk Pit, which serves Jamaican-Belizean fusion. Its rooftop dining room is decked out in colored lights and plastic lawn furniture, and we devour our curried fish and grilled lobster happily as hiphop music wafts up from the carryout shacks across the street.