Some places make you feel like you’ve gone somewhere. Bimini makes you feel like you’ve left something behind: your to-do list, your email notifications, your frenetic pace. Just 50 miles off the coast of Miami, this speck of Bahamian paradise has long lured everyone from Hemingway to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. for reasons that only become clear once you arrive and stop trying to do anything at all.
Alice Town is the kind of place where time unravels. There’s no real need for shoes, much less schedules. Golf carts rattle down the Queen’s Highway, conch salad shacks lean into the sea breeze and the water flirts with every shade of blue you’ve ever tried to name. The locals wave. The tourists exhale.
Where to stay? A waterfront stunner by Latitude Key, where indoor-outdoor living isn’t a design choice…it’s a way of life. Just steps from the water’s edge, the private house offers all the amenities of a boutique resort but without anyone telling you when breakfast ends. Hammocks sway near the infinity pool, and from the upstairs deck, you can watch the sun melt into the horizon like a candle you forgot to extinguish. Mornings begin with the smell of salt and sound of lapping tide; evenings end with a rum cocktail and no real plan for tomorrow. That’s sort of the point.
But if you’re someone who likes to wander, Alice Town gives you places to go without ever feeling like you’re trying too hard. There’s Dolphin House, a mosaic-covered museum built entirely by hand from beach glass, shells and scraps—a love letter to Bimini constructed over decades. A little farther down the road, Stuart’s Conch Stand serves up ceviche so fresh it’s still talking, best paired with Kalik beer and a side of stories from Stuart himself. The town’s nightlife? Think beach bars, domino tables and just the right amount of soca. You don’t go out so much as you drift into the music.
Of course, the real draw is the water. Some come for the deep-sea fishing, others for the diving. The SS Sapona, a partially submerged concrete shipwreck from the Prohibition era, waits just offshore, half-ghost story, half-snorkeling paradise. You don’t need a guided tour to see it, you just need a friend with a boat, and around here, everyone’s either got one or knows someone who does.
And if the boat you’re on happens to dock back at your own private Latitude Key estate, even better. The house was built for these kinds of trips: the one where you bring your friends, your family or both, and swap shoes for sandy feet and group chats for real conversations. Inside, there’s room to spread out, but the good stuff happens out back, where the dock becomes a front-row seat to paradise and the pool is a main character in its own right.
Alice Town doesn’t ask much of you—just that you breathe a little deeper, laugh a little louder and remember what a real escape feels like. It’s not polished. It’s not perfect. But it’s real. And once you’ve been, you’ll wonder how a place so small managed to change your whole rhythm.
You won’t need souvenirs. You’ll be taking the slow with you.
