Three days on Bonaire

Start at the southern tip, where the ships come alongside. On a call day the whole town runs on this pier; on any other it is a quiet place to see how small Kralendijk really is.

Two minutes up from the pier: the oldest thing in town, small and yellow, and worth the twenty minutes it takes.

Twenty metres on, between the water, the government buildings and the market stalls. In the morning the stalls are up; on a normal day it is five minutes and a photograph.

One street inland, and the moment to buy what you forgot: sun hat, reef-safe sunscreen, a snorkel that fits. Do it before noon — most shops shut between twelve and two.

Back to the water for the indoor hour, and the best-spent hour of the three days: it explains the salt pans, the slave huts and the cave drawings before you go and see them.

Ten minutes further north, the foundation that has counted Bonaire’s turtles since 1991. A small office and a shop rather than an attraction, and the reason you will recognise what you see underwater tomorrow.

The northernmost stop and the other museum: natural history in an 1885 townhouse, where Terramar does the people. Check the hours before you walk up — they are short and they move with the season.

On the way back down: Italian ice cream made here, and a proper coffee if the walk has caught up with you. Both, if the day has been hot enough.

The last hour of light, walked slowly with Klein Bonaire straight ahead. This is the stretch people remember, and it costs nothing.

And you end the day back at the south end, at a table on the water — five minutes from where you started this morning, which is the whole point of a day on foot.

Ten minutes out of town, right beside the runway. Easy sand entry and the first snorkel of the trip — do it now, while the water is still flat.

The road runs between white mountains of salt and pink water. A photo stop, not a walk: the pans are working industry, so stay on the road and behind the markers.

An hour on the sand, where the pink comes from crushed shells. Nothing here at all — no shade, nothing to buy — so bring your own.

The first of the two sets, on the shore side of the road. Barely tall enough to sit up in, and built to house the enslaved workers of the salt pans. The sign is worth reading before you photograph them.

The kite beach, and by early afternoon the wind is up. You do not have to get in the water — half the point is watching from the shore.

The second set, a few minutes further south. Same story, and the audio at both stops is the same recording — one telling, two places.

The southern tip, where the calm west coast and the rough east coast meet in one view. You can see the difference in the water from where you park.

Round the corner onto the east side, and the water changes completely: waist-deep, flat and warm across the whole bay. The windsurfers are here, and so is a drink at the end of the driving.

A stop on the road above the bay. Flamingos and wild donkeys use the flats behind it, which are protected — stay on the main road.

Back in town for the last hour of light. The boulevard faces west over Klein Bonaire, and the sun goes down between half past six and seven all year round.

The day starts here, on the water at the north end of town: the water taxi to Klein Bonaire leaves from the pier beside it. Park once, have a coffee, and wait for the boat.

The whole morning is here: white sand, a reef a few metres out, and nothing else. The best snorkel of the three days — bring water and shade, because there is neither.

The boat drops you back in town in the afternoon, and this is two minutes up from the pier. Italian ice cream, made here, and the right thing after four hours of salt.

Then the boulevard, with wet hair and an ice cream, in the hour when the light comes in low over Klein Bonaire. It is the nicest hour of the day and it costs nothing.

And you end three days that were mostly about the sea where they belong: at a table on the waterfront, five minutes further along the boulevard.