25 Reasons We Love San Antonio

Comparing apartments can seem impossible. One agency might provide floor plans, dozens of photos, and square footages. Another might have only a description like "Lovely two-bedroom apartment near San Marco; from  ¿200." Some agencies use star ratings, but there's no correlation to hotel ratings or other agency ratings. Do your homework to make sure the unit meets your expectations. BOOKING: Getting what you pay for Week-long rentals are typical, though some apartments are available for two or three nights at a time, especially in the off-season. Peak season is roughly April to June, September to October, and during Carnevale, which falls in January or February. Advanced reservations are essential. For high season, it's best to book several months, or even a full year, ahead. Every owner bends the rules sometimes, so even if a website states that an apartment only rents by the week or longer, or that rates are completely nonnegotiable, it never hurts to inquire about flexibility. Small agencies and owners who rent one or two apartments are particularly likely to bargain during slower periods. Bait and switch is pervasive when booking through an agency--whether intentional or because online databases aren't updated to reflect actual availability. Double-check that the apartment you want is the apartment you're getting. If the agency offers an alternative, make sure it's up to snuff and reasonably priced. PAYING: Deposits and cancellations A deposit (or caparra) will usually be necessary to hold your reservation. The amount varies: It might be the equivalent of one night's stay; it might be 30 to 50 percent of the total; it might be something totally different. The balance is due 6 to 20 days prior to arrival. Bank wire transfers are required to rent some apartments, particularly direct-from-owner units. Banks in the U.S. charge $30--$50 for a transfer, and it'll take three to five business days to process. Taxes, utilities, and an initial and final cleaning fee are frequently included in the quoted price, but that's not always the case, so ask. If the apartment has a phone, inquire whether local calls cost extra. Expect to pay a deposit against potential damages, either through a hold on your credit card or in cash to the person who gives you the keys. The money will be refunded when you check out. Cancellation policies vary, with refunds given on a sliding scale, meaning less money is returned the later that you cancel. The deposit is rarely refundable, though you may be able to get some of the money back if you cancel far in advance. ARRIVING: Who will give you the key? A representative will meet you at the vaporetto (public water bus) stop nearest the apartment at a prearranged time. He or she will lead you to the flat, show you the ropes (which keys fit which locks, location of the fuse box), point out nearby markets and cafés, and provide a local number to call if you have questions. Most kitchens come fully equipped, but double-check that this is the case if you plan on cooking. Before heading to the market, look in the cabinets. There are often some cooking staples (salt, sugar, pasta, olive oil) left by former guests. Towels and linens are typically provided, but bring your own soap, shampoo, and toiletries; this is not a hotel. Maid service is rare, though a few rentals offer cleaning every three days or so. Remember: You're living like a Venetian, which includes taking out the trash and recycling. Your host will provide a schedule.

Apartments are rented at different nightly, weekly, and monthly rates, which vary by season and number of guests. The nightly rate for a two-bedroom in high season might be $400 for two people and $750 if you cram in six. In most cases, we're listing the low season per-person price, assuming your group fills all the beds. When investigating possible apartments, look closely in particular at the number of bedrooms, as well as at the number of people an apartment sleeps. More often than not, "sleeps four" means a one-bedroom unit, with two guests in the bedroom and two on a fold-out couch--fine for a family, less than ideal for two couples. Ask the owner or agency about the setup if it's not mentioned in the listing.

Sometime around day three of an apartment stay in Venice, a transformation occurs. The welcoming 'buon giorno' you've been receiving at the neighborhood cheese shops, butchers, and bakeries grows more enthusiastic, with an obvious trace of recognition. You find yourself in situations the weekend visitor never experiences--buying wine by the jug at a vineria, picking tomatoes out of crates from a greengrocer's boat moored in a canal. The evening routine you've established includes nibbling on cicchetti (appetizers) with uno spritz (Campari, soda, and white wine) at a cantina, before heading home to cook a delicious feast in your kitchen. The fabled Italian lifestyle you've always envied is suddenly your own. You're even able to navigate the city without getting lost--though that won't stop you from wandering aimlessly every day, just because. To try the life of a Venetian on for size, all you have to do is rent an apartment in the city. The problem is that the rental process isn't as simple as hailing a gondolier. Here are the pros and cons of the four basic approaches. International agencies The main benefit of booking through one of the big international agencies is ease of use. Prices are often listed in U.S. dollars, and you can always pay by credit card, rather than having to arrange bank wire transfers. Most international agencies are based in the U.S. or have representatives there, which means they'll have proven track records and Better Business Bureau ratings, and you won't have to deal with long-distance calls or a language barrier. The apartments that larger agencies work with are often magnificent: Using Villas International, for example, you can rent a two-bedroom unit in a 14th-century building that was once the vacation home of German writer Goethe. The apartment, known as Palazzo Grevira, is located just 325 yards from Piazza San Marco and was available this past October for $1,490 per week. The big players handle all sorts of destinations: apartments in Bangkok, ski condos in Aspen, Caribbean villas, Orlando townhouses, London flats, and more. While each company represents thousands of properties around the world, only a handful will be in Venice. We surveyed dozens of agencies, and the two offering more than 20 options in Venice are listed below. You'll generally find more choices--and often, superior knowledge of the city--at a local agency. Also on the downside: The international agencies tend to be rigid when it comes to bookings, rarely willing to adjust the minimum-stay or other requirements. And prices tend to be higher, on average, than at smaller agencies.   INTERNATIONAL AGENCIES: Interhome, 800/882-6864, interhome.us; Villas International, 800/221-2260, villasintl.com Local agencies Dimora Veneziana, a Venice-based agency that represents two dozen units in the city, knows that guests arriving past a certain time are unlikely to find any markets or restaurants open in residential neighborhoods. To help late arrivals, the agency outfits apartments with a couple essentials to get them through the night: a bottle of wine and penetta alla siciliana (all you have to do is heat it up). The personal touch is just one reason to book through a local agency. These agencies tend to work with lots of apartments--Rental in Italy books more than 70. Because of sheer numbers, these agencies are more likely to have units available for only a few nights, and they'll also offer rentals in less obvious locations, like Venice's peaceful outlying islands. Italian agencies also generally provide the most information on each property, including locator maps, lots of photographs, and, in the case of Dimora Veneziana, floor plans. Apartments run the gamut, from basic to upscale, and many have that perfect mix of charm, location, and value. Magica Venezia, for example, has the three-bedroom Remer, in a palazzo with Gothic-arched windows looking over the Grand Canal. The apartment starts at $54 per person per night when split six ways. Most local agencies accept credit cards, so the rental process is smooth and standardized, and it can be conducted via the Internet. At least someone in the office will speak English. Some of the best Italian agencies are listed below; for others, go to Venice's official tourist board website, turismovenezia.it. Click on "Accommodation" and then on "Estate agencies for rental apartments."   LOCAL AGENCIES: Dimora Veneziana, 011-39/041-241-1697, dimoraveneziana.com; Magica Venezia, 011-39/041-277-0491, magicavenezia.com; Rental in Italy, 011-39/041-523-4577, rentalinitaly.com; Views on Venice, 011-39/041-241-1149, viewsonvenice.com Direct from owner In its "Accommodation" database mentioned above, the Venice Tourism website lists 488 holiday apartments in the center of town. While plenty of them are represented by agencies, many are individual apartments for rent directly from the owner. Skipping the middleman is an age-old formula for finding deals. The problem is that renting direct can be tedious and difficult. Sifting through properties eats up time. Many owners haven't set up flashy websites, and you're left with little more than an address and a phone number. Even with the apartments sporting websites and e-mail addresses, the rental procedure is rarely easy. Few owners accept credit cards; you'll usually have to wire a deposit via bank transfer and pay the balance in cash on arrival (though PayPal is becoming popular). You might need to call Italy several times to confirm rental and payment details, and the language issue may get in the way. All apartments on the Venice site have been registered and inspected by the tourism association, so there's no reason to be concerned about scams. But bypassing an agency leaves you little recourse in the rare case something goes wrong. An agency is better equipped than an ordinary owner to arrange for substitute lodging, if it comes to that. The prizes that turn up in the tourist office's database can be fantastic, however. Casseleria, run by owner Francesco Bramante, offers four antique-furnished flats between Piazza San Marco and the Rialto Bridge starting at $165 per person per week, split among four guests. That's just $24 a night per person, about what local hostels charge for dorm beds. Venetian Atmosphere is the name of a trio of apartments in a palazzo a few yards from St. Mark's Square. Prices start at $58 per person per night. The Villa Santa Caterina, a rustic house on the tiny island of Mazzorbetto, starts at $236 per person per week--$79 per person for the weekend--and includes your own motorboat.   DIRECT-FROM-OWNER RESOURCES: Craigslist, venice.craigslist.org; Casseleria, 011-39/335-663-4343, interflats.com; Vacation Rentals by Owners, vrbo.com; Villa Santa Caterina, 011-39/347-870-6452, santa-caterina.it; Venetian Atmosphere, 011-39/339-395-8155, venetian-atmosphere.com; Venice Tourism, turismovenezia.it Hotel-owned apartments Many hotels rent apartments, sometimes in the same building, sometimes halfway across town. Booking one can be as easy as calling the hotel or going to its website and providing a credit card number. Hotels allow you to rent for shorter periods (usually a three-night minimum) and take advantage of typical hotel amenities, including toiletries, maid service daily or several times a week and, for a few additional euros, breakfast at the hotel. On the downside, hotel apartment prices tend to be higher than on the open market. Also, some "apartments" are little more than hotel rooms with a kitchenette crammed into a closet. Still, there are some true finds. Hotel Ai Due Fanali offers units overlooking the busy waters of the Bacino di San Marco, from $227 per night for two. Pensione Guerrato, next to the Rialto market, rents a three-bedroom apartment upstairs from the hotel, a one-bedroom with space for four near San Marco, and a fantastic three-story home just off the Mercerie shopping street that can sleep up to six, starting at $42 per person per night. HOTELS WITH APARTMENTS: Ai Due Fanali, 011-39/041-718-490, aiduefanali.com; Locanda Sturion, 011-39/041-523-6243, locandasturion.com; Pensione Guerrato, 011-39/041-528-5927, pensioneguerrato.it

'Wanna pet the shark?' The offer comes from a 21-year-old snorkel guide named Tony, who is bearing sardines. Two beige nurse sharks piggyback one another at our port side, almost begging as smaller fish pick off the chum before it even hits the water. But I've owned cats more likely to tear into flesh than the four-foot nurse sharks at Hol Chan Marine Reserve. A protected three-square-mile area off Ambergris Cay, Hol Chan (Mayan for "little channel," named for a cut in the 140-mile reef) abounds with sharks, fish, and stingrays. They feel the thrum of an approaching boat, swim over when the engine stops, partake of the buffet, and then chill out at the bottom of the Caribbean until summoned by another outboard dinner bell. Throw in a hammock and a rum-based cocktail of your choice, and that's also pretty much what life is like for humans at Belize's top vacation destination. Welcome to paradise!" the baggage handler hails as I unfold from the 13-seat plane that has brought us from the mainland to San Pedro, the island's only town. I've been told by a few travelers (and one Belizean) that the former fishing village is too touristy, but hey, there's something to be said for Internet cafés and water you can brush your teeth with. Ambergris Cay has grown since its days as the off-the-radar sunshine playground that Madonna sang about 20 years ago in "La Isla Bonita" (an odd title, come to think of it, given that English is Belize's official language). The locals include a fair share of expat businesspeople, but leaving your type A personality on the mainland is apparently a requirement. Upon my arrival at The Tides Beach Resort, a shirtless bartender named Butch greets me by first name and directs me to a spacious, no-frills room with an ocean view, A/C, a minifridge, and 60 channels of American TV. I never do get asked to sign a piece of paper or produce a credit card. "It's Belize, go with the flow," owner Sabrina Paz says when I finally meet her. Sabrina's husband, Elmer "Patojo" Paz, has run Patojo's Dive Shop here for 17 years. With three atolls, the world's second-largest barrier reef, and (just a few hours offshore) the Blue Hole, Ambergris Cay attracts both experienced divers and novices getting certified on vacation. In 1998, the couple tore down their beachfront home and replaced it with a three-floor, 12-room Spanish colonial, including living quarters for themselves and their six kids, who are often around the pool or on the pier doing their homework. (Or not doing it: Megan, their 12-year old, wonders why she has to finish high school when she plans to be a dive master like Dad.) The arrangement gives The Tides a family bed-and-breakfast vibe without the actual feeling that you're sleeping over at a stranger's house. The roads on Ambergris seem to range from unpaved to nonexistent. Cars are scarce, the north side of the island is accessible only by golf cart or boat, and the beach is something of a thoroughfare for single-gear bikes with back-pedal brakes. On my first stroll around town, I decide that renting a golf cart or a bike won't be necessary. San Pedro is small, the streets are safe, and cab rides rarely cost more than $5. The only reason not to walk is the humidity, which is unavoidable in any case. For dinner that night I choose Elvi's, which began as a takeout window more than 30 years ago and still has a sand floor. It's priced for tourists, but my $14 is well spent on Mayan-style fish cooked to a nice char in a banana leaf with roasted peppers, onions, and tomatoes, plus a heavenly scoop of coconut rice. It's served by the cook himself, who offers a friendly shoulder tap and instructs me (ha, ha) not to eat the leaf. The next afternoon, Tony, a family friend of Patojo's who has been guiding formally for one year and informally since he was around 13, takes me out to Hol Chan. Six or seven other vessels are already there--a number that can easily quadruple during high season (December to May), since most guides run a daily trip at 2 P.M. (Groups of six or eight might want to spend a little more for a private morning excursion with Grumpy and Happy.) Some divers prefer to avoid Hol Chan, going instead to the Mexico Rocks coral and the Bacalar Chico Marine and Wildlife Reserve up north, or some spot along the reef (every guide has his own "secret" location). For an amateur like me, the real-life Finding Nemo oceanscape is dazzling: blue tangs and parrot fish; silvery, thin barracudas; and flat flounder. Moray eels and a little octopus are hidden in the coral but are spotted easily by Tony. "I come here every day," he shrugs. We proceed to Shark Ray Alley, so named because it's where those friendly nurses and southern stingrays congregate. Swimming a few feet below the surface with one ray alongside you and another on the ocean floor is both thrilling and discomfiting. The rays are mostly harmless, as Tony demonstrates when he proffers a morsel of sardine to a curious stingray, then picks the ray up with both hands. Along with hugging a shark, this is every San Pedro tour guide's favorite parlor trick; all the guides agree that Steve Irwin's death was a freak occurrence. Wednesday evenings at San Pedro's beachfront bar scene mean one thing: the chance to watch a chicken do its business (yes, that kind of business). If your ticket matches the numbered square the poultry performer poops on, you win $100. The World-Famous Chicken Drop has gone down at the Spindrift Hotel's Pier Lounge every Wednesday at 6 P.M. for 18 years. You pay 50¢ for a number picked from a jar, toss back a few happy-hour drinks, and gather around an outdoor pen to see how fast fresh coconut and half-cooked bacon travel through the animal's system. "That'd make anybody crap," promises Pier Lounge owner Jan Brown, a 63-year-old former Texan who recently posed seminude, à la the film Calendar Girls, to raise money for San Pedro's new primary school. One gambler gets to drop the chicken in the pen, and this week, the honor goes to a brunette named Stacy, one of a dozen buddies from all over the U.S. who have been on the island for a week. Her instructions are to gently shake the chicken three times. "Then you gotta blow up its butt for good luck," Jan insists. Stacy shakes, gamely blows, and the chicken totters on the very square it lands on for 10 seconds, and then . . . plop. The hundred bucks goes to Jason, another member of the group. Jan then reveals the unofficial rule: The winner has to clean up the mess. "How many of you went diving today?" Jan asks the crowd. "Anybody see a ruin?" "Anybody see a pool?" Jason retorts. "Anybody see some horseshoes? I saw the bottom of a bottle." Indeed, you'll probably spend a lot of time just staring at the Caribbean, Belikin beer in hand. Might be at a bar, might be at a restaurant, might be at a resort--and not necessarily the one you're staying at. Most beaches are small, and the tepid water is thick with sea grass. The entire shore of Ambergris is public, which makes it easy to hop from bar to beach to resort. The Xanadu Island Resort, where I stay for the last part of my trip, proves suitable for sitting around and not doing much of anything. Its freshwater pool is beachfront and surrounded by palm trees. My loft suite comes with a full kitchen and the use of a bike and a kayak. There's a hammock on every porch. After checking in, I walk the mile into town to El Fogon, a tiny palapa restaurant tucked a block west of the airstrip. Fogon means "hearth," and that's what dominates the dining area: fresh-cut wood stacked up beneath three iron burners. Tender "stew beans," as opposed to the more commonplace Creole beans and rice, taste like peppery smoke itself, melting in my mouth. One of my neighbors at Xanadu is Mark Wilson, a Brit who first came to Belize in 1988 and has been back a dozen times since. "It's the biggest f--ing jewel in Queen Elizabeth's crown," he says. Earlier in the week, Mark was sitting at Estel's--a place where you can get a drink before the stroke of noon, and breakfast well past it--when a cornrowed Creole named Ernesto passed by with a load of freshly filleted barracuda. After a brief conversation, Ernesto sold Mark on a fishing trip, including snorkeling with manatees on the side. Mark and his girlfriend, Angell Crosland, graciously allow me to third-wheel. Most manatee tours venture 30 miles down the coast, but Ernesto (who's 43, looks 30, and has a voice like Mike Tyson's) knows a spot that's closer. He and his goateed partner, Oliver (who sports a 30-stitch spearfishing scar on his right wrist), launched their two-man operation, Cari'Bean Tours, just last year, though they've worked for other operations for years. It's nice just to be out on open water, to see the turquoise shimmer of the Caribbean without the muddled undertone of sea grass. Angell and I are both total novices at fishing, and we enjoy reeling in little snappers and grunts, never mind the fact that my ratio of caught fish to lost bait is one to four. We also don't have any luck trolling for 'cudas, and soon enough, it's time to put away the rods and go snorkeling. Led by Ernesto, we swim and swim, and then swim a little more. The current isn't strong, but this close to the reef, the waves are bouncy. We make a long circle and appear to be heading back to the boat, but Ernesto peels off in another direction. He gives us the "quiet" signal; just like that, we're 10 feet behind three manatees. The big gray beasts swish slowly through the ocean. When they surface for a breath, we come up with them and get a good look at their whiskered snouts. Back on the Cari'Bean, Ernesto completes our luncheon menu by free diving 20 feet to catch a lobster with his bare hands--doing it with gloves damages the coral--and four more with a hook. He dips the cutting board into the ocean to clean off our morning bait, rinses off the fish, and slices delicate fillets. We anchor at an isolated beach, and Ernesto dumps the fish and lobster into foil, along with a few dollops of butter and barbecue sauce, a can of salsa, green pepper, onion, cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. It takes all of five minutes to cook on the fire. By the time it's ready, we all have rum punches and fresh tortillas in hand. I'm as content as a nurse shark with a belly full of sardines, yet somehow I'm feeling a little jealous--of Ernesto, Oliver, even the manatees. After all, they come here every day. Lodging The Tides Beach Resort 011-501/226-2283, ambergriscaye.com/tides, from $65 Xanadu Island Resort 011-501/226-2814, xanaduresort-belize.com, from $100 Food Estel's 011-501/226-2019, breakfast platter $7.50 Elvi's Kitchen 011-501/226-2176, Pescador Dr., Mayan fish $14 The Pier Lounge 011-501/226-2002, Barrier Reef Drive El Fogon 011-501/206-2260, #2 Trigger Fish St., stew beans $1 Activities Patojo's 011-501/226-2283, Hol Chan snorkeling excursion $35 plus $10 park fee Grumpy and Happy 866/771-3159, grumpyandhappy.com, snorkeling trip for eight $400 Cari'Bean Tours 011-501/601-8586, caribeantoursbelize.com, full-day manatee tour $150 Ambergris Cay basics Between Tropic and Maya Island airlines, there are 20 flights a day from Belize City to San Pedro. The 10-minute flight costs about $100 round trip. A water taxi is $15 each way, though the ride takes an hour and the marine terminal is a 30-minute cab ride from the airport. Hotels in San Pedro are simpler and smaller than the isolated, upscale northern resorts. The hotels and resorts south of San Pedro fall somewhere between the two extremes. There are limited street addresses in San Pedro. The two main drags, Barrier Reef Drive and Pescador Drive, are universally referred to by their former monikers: Front Street and Middle Street, respectively. U.S. dollars are accepted everywhere, but traveler's checks are still a good idea. Only one ATM in town (at the Belize Bank on Barrier Reef Drive) accepts foreign cards, though all the banks will process credit-card cash advances.