Disclaimer
Introduction: Who the Hell is El Pirate Realty, Anyway?
Where the Hell is Izabel, Guatemala, Anyway?
Behind The Coconut Curtain
The Nuts and Bolts of Buying Guatemalan Property
Ten Reasons NOT to Buy Land in Guatemala

Disclaimer

Before I write one more word, I want to make it absolutely clear that virtually everything you are about to read -- including prices, parcel sizes, title issues, building restrictions, names, phone numbers, etc. -- are based virtually entirely on conversations between a gringo with awful Spanish skills and even worse Mayan Indian language skills (that would be Yours Truly) and a wide variety of folks whose English is even worse than my Spanish. With a few noted exceptions, I HAVE personally visited every one of these properties, and I am reasonably sure that the information as explained to me in Spanish by the sellers is being communicated to you with a fair degree of accuracy. However, NOT ONE WORD of this information has been confirmed by any lawyer, government official, etc. From the time you get the sellers' names and phone numbers from me -- which is the ONLY product I am selling -- you are ON YOUR OWN. Good luck in your search, but remember, Toto, you're not in Kansas anymore, so BUYER BEWARE. That out of the way, let's begin the search for your piece of Tropical Paradise:

CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO PROPERTY LISTINGS

Introduction: Who the Hell is El Pirate Realty, Anyway?

My name is Sam Mitchell. For most of the year, I am a mild-mannered (okay, hot-headed) middle-aged real estate agent with a good job and nice home in Austin, Texas. As the days shorten and temperatures drop with the approach of winter, however, I board a south-bound plane in Houston for a three-hour spaceship ride to a parallel Universe known as Izabal, Guatemala (see the next section, "Where The Hell is Izabal, Guatemala, Anyway?"). I'm barely out of the airport before I morph into Yours Truly -- El Capitan Hambone, the Real Estate Pirate.

In my alter-ego as El Pirate Realtor, I ply the waters -- sea, river, and lake -- between the Caribbean port town of Livingston and the lakeside village of Mariscos some 50 miles inland. The booty I am seeking are the many hidden slices of waterfront Gringo Tropical Paradise that can still be bought for outrageously low prices. Like any good pirate, my goal is to horde the juiciest plums for myself and my close circle of real estate investor amigos in Texas. However, there is SO MUCH booty to go around, my buddies and I can't keep it ALL to ourselves... hence the services of El Pirate Realty.

What Yours Truly sells is NOT the real estate itself, but the list of names and phone numbers you will need to pursue, ON YOUR OWN, any property that piques your interest. In addition, you will receive the A-list of names, phone numbers and websites of all the most important movers and shakers in the Izabal real estate biz that you will need to GREATLY simplify the process. I charge $200 for this double list of names and phone numbers. I ASSURE you that this nominal charge is a tiny fraction of what it would cost you to build this list for yourself. If you don't believe me, try googling the oxymoronic term "Guatemalan real estate agents," and see what pops up. If you don't have $250K in cash burning a hole in your pocket, they want nothing to do with you (and as a Realtor, myself, I must say I can't blame them; there's simply no money in it for them). With one small exception that will be disclosed later, this $200 is the ONLY money I get from anyone -- I am in NO WAY an agent working for these sellers for commissions (most of these sellers have no idea their property is being listed here, in fact), so it really means nothing to me if any of these properties sell or not.

Now that you know who I AM, let me make sure you understand who I am NOT. Just as I am not an agent for any of these sellers, I am also NOT, in any way, YOUR agent, either. You are talking to a PIRATE, after all -- I work for myself, nobody else. I will happily pass along what I have learned about the process, but that in NO WAY makes me an "expert" on buying land in Guatemala, and the LAST thing in the world I am is a Guatemalan real estate lawyer. As long as we're clear on that point, let's move on to the honeymoon stage.

CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO PROPERTY LISTINGS

TOP OF SECTION

TOP OF PAGE

Where in Hell is Izabal, Guatemala, Anyway?

I stumbled around Central America for almost 20 years, looking for the ultimate Gringo Tropical Paradise. I watched Mexico, then Belize, then Costa Rica be discovered and developed, while I bided my time, knowing the Right Place would finally present itself. I even got to Guatemala several times in the early 1990s, and fell in love with the scenery, the weather, and the people. Those were in the dark days of the Guatemalan Civil War, however, and the exotic-sounding Rio Dulce was an (allegedly) dangerous place for Gringos. That dark period in Guatemala's history finally ended in 1996, and it was years later before I FINALLY decided to go check it out for a day or two. Within 20 minutes of hopping aboard the little boat taking tourists from the town of Rio Dulce into the jungle, I knew I had found my Paradise Lost. I stayed there for a month on my first visit, and I will be returning there for the rest of my life. Here's why:

The spectacular scenery of Izabal -- from Lake Izabal in the West, down the Rio Dulce River and through the jungle canyon, all the way to the oceanfront town of Livingston -- touched some sort of long-dormant "Tarzan nerve" in my weary middle-aged body. The scenery is a mad mixture of water, mountains, jungles, and sky -- sort of like the love child between South Florida and the San Juan Islands. No wonder so many rich yachties hang out there. If you don't mind some hot sun and a little rain now and then, the weather is nothing to complain about, either, particularly in January, when there's a foot of snow in Chicago.

If you have a wee bit of Tarzan in you, you will fall in love with this place, I assure you. (Of course, if you have NO Tarzan in you, you may want to head to the nearest Club Med, which Izabal, Guatemala, clearly is NOT!) As there are no roads into this watery jungle, all access is by boat, be it million-dollar yacht or dug-out canoe. As I write this in February, 2008, the first power lines are being strung in one area (the ex-pat hangout of Cayo Quemado, see property listings), but the vast majority of the 30-mile stretch of river between Rio Dulce and Livingston remains off-the-grid to this day. The local water system is rainwater collection (don't ask about the local septic systems, please, you don't want to know). I imagine it looks quite a bit like Florida must've looked 50 years ago, only with mountains. As seemingly remote as it seems, everyone is yakking on their cell phones, and Livingston and Rio Dulce are always only minutes away if you have a craving for a banana split or a good mojito. Indiana Jones or James Bond would've set up shop here in a heartbeat, for good reason.

To top it off, Izabal, the easternmost state in the country, is conveniently situated on the Caribbean approximately halfway between Belize and Honduras, either one of which is a half-day's boat ride away. (If you need a boat, here is a shameless plug for Guatemala Boat Trips.) If you're tired of saltwater and want to sail, motor or paddle upstream, Guatemala's biggest lake -- the gorgeous and almost completely undeveloped Lake Izabal -- is waiting for you there. It is so uncrowded, in fact, that a lot of Gringos decide to do their sailing au naturel with no concern of being seen by another living soul for hours. I could go on waxing poetic about the place for hours, but I think I've made my point.

CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO PROPERTY LISTINGS

TOP OF SECTION

TOP OF PAGE

Behind The Coconut Curtain

Before I start sounding too much like the president of the Izabal Chamber of Commerce, I want to level with you here if you are seriously considering purchasing land in Izabal, Guatemala (or anywhere else in Latin America, for that matter, every part of which has some version of the story I am about to relate here). You can easily spend a month or more in the neighborhood as a vacationing tourist and never be aware of all the political drama going on behind the coconut trees. But if you're seriously considering making a larger commitment to the area, it probably would behoove you to read my oversimplified interpretation of what is going on behind the scenes down there (ask ten other people, and you would get eleven other interpretations, of course).

If you look at a map of Izabal, Guatemala, particularly the stretch of river between Rio Dulce and Livingston, you will no doubt notice that the whole area (essentially, the entire waterfront) has been declared a "national park" by the Guatemalan government. Like most Gringos, you will probably jump to the understandable conclusion that this must mean that the river is lined with thick tropical rainforest, teeming with all sorts of exotic wildlife. Well, you would be about half-right... The vast majority of the once-teeming wildlife has ended up in the stewpots of the exploding local population, and the "protected" jungle is under serious assault from everything from chainsaws on down to machetes. To Gringo eyes, the jungle still appears to be luxurious -- and there are still large stretches of (so-far) uncut forest remaining -- but with each passing year (make that month, or day), more trees hit the dirt, to be sliced up for lumber or, more commonly, to be hacked up for firewood.

The other ironic thing you will soon figure out about "Rio Dulce National Park" is that it is already full of ramshackle primitive houses inhabited by the local indigenous Mayan population, with more and more beautiful homes being built every day by Gringos, other foreigners, and rich Guatemalan landowners from the city. As you begin to peel back the layers of what is going on down there in the jungle, some fascinating, though disturbing, patterns emerge. It would be way beyond the scope of this little website to go into great detail about Guatemalan politics in Izabal, Guatemala, but I will try to touch on the two most salient points, which would be the local Mayan population on one hand, and the voracious deforestation of the jungle on the other.

A tiny bit of oversimplified history of the region to set the stage... When the Guatemalan government created the Rio Dulce "National Park" upteen years ago, the area really WAS an untouched jungle teeming with all sorts of exotic wildlife. One long-time resident told me of the days barely a dozen years ago when he had jaguars eating monkeys in his back yard. Well, the jaguars -- not to mention the monkeys -- are long gone, no doubt never to return. The once-abundant caimans (small alligators) have been reduced to a tiny remnant population at the extreme western shore of Lake Izabal. I challenge you to find a lousy turtle or squirrel left in Rio Dulce National Park. (Amazingly, the wading bird population appears to be in fairly stable shape, and I have spotted otters, toucans and boa constrictors.)

The reasons for this precipitous decline in wildlife and ever-increasing assault on the remaining virgin jungle are myriad and complicated. To oversimplify: during the 30-year Civil War that ended (we hope) in 1996, the mercilessly persecuted indigenous Maya, to save their lives and the lives of their families, fled from the western highlands where they were being massacred. About the only place left for them to escape to was the swampy riverside jungle of the remote Rio Dulce "National Park." (The Maya you see in Rio Dulce today are not remnant populations of the ancient pyramid builders from 1000 years ago, they are recent transplants from less than 20 years ago.) When they got to their new home, they found the ground was worthless to grow anything to eat, so they did what any intelligent starving person would do: they ate everything they could find that swam, crawled, or flew (except the egrets and cormorants, which apparently taste awful, or they, too, would be as rare as tapirs today).

Before I tread one step further into this iffy territory, I need to make another El Pirate disclaimer, this time about the "Mayan Dilemma." Here goes: Please understand that I adore the Mayan people. Never in my life have I met a more humble, polite, soft-spoken, hard-working group of folks than the Mayan friends I have met in Izabal, Guatemala. The plight they have suffered for the past 500 years is tragic beyond words, and their enduring poverty is heartbreaking. And you had better believe that we Gringos buying land in Izabal need the Maya a HELLUVALOT more than they need us! If the Maya REALLY want to rebel against their plight and bring us Gringos to our knees, all they need to do is not show up for work for three days running, and the entire Gringo ex-pat community would collapse. And you had better believe if I were hungry and needed to feed my family, I would eat every squirrel and turtle I could lay my machete on. And if I needed firewood to cook my squirrel-turtle soup on, I would chop down every tree in the forest. As I hear so many Gringos in the area say, nobody "blames" the Maya for their mistreatment of the land, but it is a fact of life in the jungle that cannot be swept under the carpet any longer.

That disclaimer out of the way, here is the bottom line: whatever your opinion about Guatemalan politics, the horrendous mistreatment of the Maya by the government, etc., the ugly fact is that the Maya -- through no "fault" of their own -- are a serious threat to what little remains of the jungle in Rio Dulce "National Park." While everybody frets over what to do about the "Mayan dilemma," the forest continues to fall at an alarming rate, one machete whack at a time. This is the situation you will be getting into if you decide to buy land in Izabal, make no mistake about it.

So, what does all this mean for Gringos buying land in the area? A couple of things:

-- When you buy land (actually, when you LEASE it, which I will get to in a moment), you very well may be buying it from a Mayan family already living there. If so, that probably means you will have to kick them off to make room for yourself. Of course, if there is nobody left to guard your land because you kicked them off, who do you think is going to guard it from "squatters" (exactly WHO is the squatter in this equation, anyway?) while you're not there? This is a real dilemma, and one with no easy fix (I, personally, try to buy vacant land and hire the nearest Mayan neighbor to be my guardian).

-- And, no doubt the most absurd conclusion I will draw, but one I am forced to admit is accurate after studying the dynamic down there: The single best way to save the remaining rain forest in Rio Dulce National Park is for a bunch of Gringos to buy up all the remaining forest and build houses on it. There, I said it. If you had said that patently absurd statement to me a few years ago, I would have accused you of being a racist at best, crazy at worst. I am neither, but I have reached this conclusion after hearing other Gringos voice the same opinion, and seeing it with my own eyes. The logic is fairly straightforward: Generally speaking (and there are exceptions to this rule as there are to all rules), Gringos do not cut down trees on their property for firewood, they save them, and reforest areas that have been cut before they arrived. Gringos do not raise large families of children on their plots of rainforest. Gringos do not eat squirrels and monkeys. Okay, I have made my point -- and though I would readily agree with you that Gringos, per capita, take a MUCH bigger bite out of Mother Earth on a planetary scale than any Mayan could ever hope to taste, they take a much SMALLER bite out of this PARTICULAR little corner of Mother Earth. So, to repeat my absurd contention: The single best way to save the remaining rain forest in Rio Dulce National Park is for a bunch of Gringos to buy up all the remaining forest and build houses on it. Period.

Don't get me wrong. What I strongly believe is that the Guatemalan government ought to kick EVERYONE -- Mayan, Guatemalan, and Gringo -- out of Rio Dulce National Park, once and for all and forever. The situation is crazy. But the bottom line is that it ain't gonna happen. Everybody wants their piece of the pie, and some map that calls a place a "national park" isn't going to stem the tide.

Enough background information for now. You can either CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO THE PROPERTY LISTINGS, or read on to find out what all this behind-the-scenes political shenanigans means to a Gringo shopping for land in Izabal, Guatemala.

TOP OF SECTION

TOP OF PAGE

The Nuts and Bolts of Buying Property in Guatemala

Here at El Pirate Realty, I am interested ONLY in waterfront property, not inland property (which has a different set of rules which I will not go into here, as they don't apply to any properties on this list). To repeat my earlier disclaimer, I am NOT, in any way, a Guatemalan real estate lawyer, so what I am about to describe to you here is, once again, an oversimplified interpretation of how I understand the basic process to work. As you are reading these "rules," please keep in mind that the vast majority of folks completely IGNORE the rules, and do whatever the hell they want to do with their property, with little fear of reprisal from any sort of policing agency; El Pirate Realty in NO WAY is advocating you do the same, of course!

As I understand it, ALL waterfront land in Guatemala -- whether in Izabal, Lake Atitlan, or anywhere else -- is, technically, some sort of public land. In particular, the first 10 meters (approx. 30 feet) back from the shore has to be kept open for the public to walk across. (This is no problem for the vast majority of properties on this list, where people use canoes to get around, although it does apply to those properties on the ocean and Lake Izabal.) Behind this first 10 meters, an additional 90 meters is also considered "public," though it isn't nearly so regulated.

When you "buy" waterfront land in Guatemala, you are actually buying a lease from someone else (or, as is frequently the case, you are paying someone who never owned a lease to vacate the property). So, when you read that a piece of land "costs" $10,000, what that means is that you are paying the current leaseholder $10,000 to assign his lease over to you and to move off the land. That is the first part of the process you need to work out.

Once you have worked that part out with the seller, you will (if all goes well) receive a "concession" from the Guatemalan government to develop and occupy your new piece of land for a set number of years. The number of years seems to float somewhere between 15 and 25 years, though 15 years seems to be the most common number for someone who simply wants to build a small vacation bungalow. Each year, you pay the Guatemalan government a nominal fee (around $100 per parcel) to preserve your lease. The two big gambles, of course, are: what is to keep the government from jacking up the annual lease fee; and, more importantly, what happens at the end of my lease when I go to renew it, and am told that the government has decided not to renew the lease? I wish I had an answer for you, but I am a pirate, not a fortune-teller, so this is THE essential gamble you are taking. All I can say is that there are hundreds of Gringos buying waterfront land all over Guatemala, and plunking down thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars, to develop land that they do not have title to. You simply need to weigh the risk factor, and decide for yourself.

Those are the rules that apply to ALL waterfront property in Guatemala. In much of Izabal, however -- particularly that stretch of the Rio Dulce between the town of Rio Dulce and Livingston, where the vast majority of these properties lie -- you have a second layer of Guatemalan government bureaucracy to deal with: the National Park Service. We've already gone over how ridiculous this designation is in the "real world," but ridiculous or not, you are still going to have to deal with them. Technically, the National Park Service has to sign off on your concession (your lease) before you are allowed to build there. It's a crap shoot whether they will or not, of course. If they do NOT, you simply need to make a choice of how to proceed: bail and look for another piece; appeal the decision through legitimate channels (good luck!); pay off some bureaucrat or middleman to get your permit; or, as most people seem to do, build your house and deal with the fallout later on the slim chance you ever get busted by the park rangers.

Let me give you a real-life example of what I am dealing with right now in my own life: I have picked out a vacant lot way back in the jungle, on the banks of the Rio Lampara. The seller and I have agreed on the price. The leasing arm of the government has told me they would be happy to transfer the lease to me, but there is a small hitch: the National Park Service has decided my lot is in a "protected area," and therefore I will never be able to get permission to build there. At this point, I am choosing the "pay off somebody to get my concession for me" option. Meanwhile, the seller is deciding whether he is going to wait around for this to happen, or if he's going to take a chainsaw into this "protected area" and level this gorgeous plot of rainforest because anyone buying his place cannot get permission to build a little house in the corner of the property, making his property worthless. And believe me, he could do this in one day with zero fear of being arrested (and even if he was, the fine would be a fraction of what he could sell the wood for). Does my absurd contention about saving the rainforest by buying it and building on it make more sense now?

That is really as deep as I want to get into the details of Guatemalan real estate contracts. Make no mistake about it: the process is a pain in the ass, there's no getting around the fact. It's the nature of the beast. At the same time, there are plenty of Gringos going through it right now (me being one of them), and once it is finished and they are settled into their little piece of Paradise, it will be worth it. I promise.

CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO PROPERTY LISTINGS

TOP OF SECTION

TOP OF PAGE

TEN REASONS NOT TO BUY LAND IN GUATEMALA:

The Mayan "squatter" dilemma: aka, the slimy guilt you're gonna feel forcing a nice guy named Emilio and his sweet family out of their dirt-floor little hovel they've miraculously managed to carve out of a mosquito-infested swamp after years of back-breaking toil, because their home impedes upon your view of the Rio Dulce riverfront from your second-story veranda. Worse than this part of the dilemma is the utter desperate hopelessness you're gonna feel when you return to your piece of Paradise after a six-month absence, only to find a machete-wielding Emilio lying in a hammock on that same veranda.

That lunatic Mayan dude named Ramiro Choc (a sort of Mayan Robin Hood), who has this nasty habit of showing up at your house at midnight, holding a machete to your throat, and growling: "You stole this land from my grandfather, Gringo, you have 24 hours to get off my property." (Last I heard, he was in a Guatemalan prison with 11 felony counts against him, so maybe this is no longer a valid reason not to buy land in Guatemala.)

The Guatemalan National Park Service, who have an equally nasty habit of showing up at your house at noon, holding a pen and clipboard to your throat, and growling: "You stole this land from a manatee, Gringo, you have 24 hours to get off his property."

The seller who sold you your piece of Paradise has already sold it to six other Gringos, and will sell it to at least six more before the 13 of you figure it out, by which time he will have made so much money, he will have moved to the U.S. and left the bunch of you to slug it out in the Guatemalan court system.

The rebel guerillas (there are ALWAYS rebel guerillas in these countries, right?) will FINALLY win the Civil War, a victory they will celebrate by moving in to all the nice houses provided free-of-charge by all those nice Gringos.

Have you seen Al Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth?" No joke -- if you want to buy oceanfront land in Guatemala, I suggest you buy a lot 300 feet up the side of the Rio Dulce Canyon.

Why would you put yourself through all this stress when the jungle is full of perfectly decent hotels that you can stay in for as little as six bucks per night?

Lousy coffee, and the mojitos have ginger ale in them.

Vampire bats, vipers, tarantulas, scorpions, and chupucabras.

That disgusting little bug that lays eggs in your privates in the middle of the night while you are asleep.

If that's not enough reason not to buy land in Guatemala, let's think of a reason why you SHOULD buy land there:

If you don't buy it, some other lucky gringo will, and he -- not you -- will be the one lounging around in a hammock in Paradise, sipping on a pina colada, and smiling all the way to the bank because he knows that $20K he invested in this swamp will pay back in triple-digit spades in 10 years. I'm sure I could think of nine more good reasons to buy land in Izabal, Guatemala, but the second reason (an inexhaustible supply of cheap monkey tobacco) has clouded my mind. But the first reason is the only one that REALLY matters, and you know it as well as I do, which brings me to the Golden Rule of El Pirate Realty:

"Thou shalt not let some other Gringo snatch up YOUR piece of Paradise while you sit on your rear end paralyzed with doubt and fear."

CLICK HERE TO GO DIRECTLY TO PROPERTY LISTINGS

TOP OF SECTION

TOP OF PAGE