One week on Bonaire

An hour here on day one makes the rest of the week legible: the salt, the slavery, the Caiquetío period.

The main street, and the place to buy the hat, the reef-safe sunscreen and the water shoes you forgot.

Ten minutes of seafront that tells you exactly where you are: Klein Bonaire on the horizon, pelicans below the railing.

First sunset, over the water, without having driven anywhere. Start the week like this.

The warm-up snorkel, five minutes south of town, with planes landing over your head.

Look, do not swim: the pier is off limits when a ship is loading, and that is decided on the day.

Bring shade with you. There is no bar, no toilet and no tree worth the name.

The most uncomfortable and most necessary stop on the island. Give it the quarter of an hour it deserves.

The southern tip, where the wind arrives first. Turn around here; the east coast road is rough and adds nothing today.

The boats leave from the pier beside the bar, not from the cruise pier. Be there for the first crossing and photograph the time of the last one when you board.

An uninhabited islet 800 metres offshore with reef starting fifty metres from the sand and visibility routinely over twenty metres: the best snorkelling within reach of anyone without a tank. No shade, no water, no facilities.

Back on the pier with salt in your hair, and two minutes up from it the Italian ice cream everyone ends up at. The right order is: boat, ice cream, boulevard.

The last hour of light, walked slowly with Klein Bonaire straight ahead of you — the island you spent the day on, from the other side.

Dinner on the water at the south end, which is where the light goes. Book ahead in high season; there are not many tables facing west.

Sixty-seven steps down, which feel like a thousand on the way back up with gear. Water shoes are not optional here.

A gap in the cliff where the swell comes in loudly. Five minutes of looking, then move on.

The old plantation house above the water, with the coast road curling away below it.

The inland lake where the flamingos feed in the late afternoon. Stay in the car; they leave if you get out.

The oldest village on the island, in a valley out of the wind. Coffee, ice cream and a slower pace than the coast.

The stone store where enslaved workers came to collect their rations, now the place the island tells its own story. Weekdays only.

Twenty-five minutes back towards town, and the right place to watch the light go: the whole southern half of the island lies below you.

Back on the boulevard for the last of it, the way the tour ends too. Dinner is on the water at the south end.

Two minutes of looking over the whole lagoon before you drive down into it.

Waist-deep water for a hundred metres out, protected by a reef. The best beach on Bonaire for anyone who is not a confident swimmer.

Feet in the sand, windsurfers going past. Lunch here rather than driving back to town.

The other side of the same bay: mangroves, conch shells and almost no one. Quiet on weekdays.

Over 5,600 hectares of cactus, cliff and salt pan. Your nature fee already covers the entrance.

The bay at the heart of the park, reached over unpaved road. Bring your own lunch; there is nothing to buy inside.

On the way back: the second-oldest stone building on the island, built in 1824 as a food store.

Stop again on the way home. After a day of dust and cactus the village feels like a different island.

You drive through it in your own car, windows down, donkeys leaning in. Open daily from 10:00 to 17:00 according to the sanctuary.

A small cove down a set of steps, five minutes from town. The last snorkel of the week.

Souvenirs on the way home, at the one moment in the week when you know what you actually liked.

Ice cream on Kaya Grandi. A small ending, which is the right size for a last afternoon.