San Andres

If your idea of paradise involves escaping to a tiny, sun-scorched speck of sand so improbably postcard-perfect that it feels suspiciously photoshopped, then Cayo Bolivar is your kind of blissful nowhere. Located about 25 kilometers off the coast of San Andres island, this sparsely inhabited caye is the kind of place pirates likely paused between plundering sprees, or Robinson Crusoe might have found himself stranded, finally embracing solitude. For the best chance of snorkeling pristine reefs free from selfie-stick wielding hordes, aim to arrive in the early morning-ideally as dawn spills gold across the turquoise water-and book your boat at least a day in advance, because impulsive journeys to nowhere tend to go wrong (just ask Gilligan). Budget around $60-$100 per person for a guided boat trip and lunch, and don't forget sunscreen, bottled water, and an adventurous spirit-especially helpful when your visibly indifferent captain navigates the waves with a cigarette between his teeth. Yes, the ride can be bumpy, and sure, amenities are limited, but that's precisely the point. Cayo Bolivar is worth it precisely because you'll return sunburned, sandy, and undeniably smug, armed with the sort of envy-inducing anecdotes that friends trapped in cubicles will secretly loathe you for.

Imagine sinking beneath the waves off the rugged West Coast, your heart hammering like Keith Richards after an espresso binge, as you follow a twisted, barnacle-encrusted chain deeper into the blue abyss. Legends swear these iron links belonged to pirates-yes, real swashbuckling pirates who terrorized these waters centuries ago. Historical accuracy might be a bit murky, like the water visibility come mid-afternoon, but suspending disbelief adds spice to this dive. Aim to plunge in early morning-before the sunbathers and snorkel-tour hordes arrive-and book at least a few weeks ahead, especially during peak treasure-hunting season (a.k.a. summer weekends). Budget around a hundred bucks for gear rentals and a knowledgeable guide who spins tales taller than Blackbeard's hat. Remember your waterproof GoPro, a solid dive torch, and maybe a flask for a celebratory shot of rum afterward. Even if the pirate backstory feels shakier than your instructor after happy hour, exploring eerie, rusted chains disappearing into mysterious depths makes an adventure you'll savor long after your wetsuit dries-and that alone is worth every penny.

Stepping onto Providencia Island feels a little like stumbling onto a tropical paradise postcard-if that postcard were designed by pirates, guarded by iguanas, and seasoned with equal parts charm and rum-fueled whimsy. Once a coveted hideout frequented by infamous buccaneer Henry Morgan (yes, the rum guy), Providencia still clings delightfully to its past, wrapped in laid-back Caribbean swagger and colonial tales. Arrive early-preferably mornings, when the water gleams turquoise like an obnoxiously perfect Instagram filter-and leave yourself at least three days to properly enjoy the island's underwater wonders, from fluorescent coral reefs teeming with neon-hued marine life to shipwrecks steeped in history and encrusted with mystery. Book flights a month or two ahead (unless you relish the uncertainty of a sketchy cargo-boat ride from neighboring San Andres), and budget generously, at least $150 per day, factoring in seafood feasts, quirky beachside cocktails, and laid-back bungalow accommodations. Bring cash (ATMs are as reliable as island Wi-Fi), sunscreen strong enough to deflect NASA-level UV rays, and a willingness to surrender your schedule to island time. Providencia is worth every logistical hurdle and questionable travel decision-if not for the snorkeling, white sand beaches, and near-mythical sunsets, then simply for the unbeatable bragging rights of conquering an island that still feels genuinely undiscovered.