It was the winter of 1986 and my husband Franc and I found ourselves living in heavenly San Pedro for six months for the second winter in a row. We scored a beach front rental from Gil Gonzalez and spent our days in bathing suits snorkeling the crystal clear waters and our evenings in t-shirts and shorts. If you put on flip flops, someone invariably stopped you on the front street, which was all sand, and asked you where you were going and why you were “dressed up”. I always went barefoot, for the whole six months, but Franc always had these ugly black tire tread sandals on as he did not like to go barefoot.

The year before we had been on the pier in front of Paradise at 10:30 at night and found a small boy about 5 years old, all alone on the pier. We came to understand that this was the carefree lifestyle that San Pedro and Ambergris Caye offered. The ability for a small child to be out on his own and unafraid of strangers.