Things to Do in Palau

About Palau

The salt on your lips tastes sharper here because the Pacific is cleaner—400 miles from anywhere, the water refracts into impossible shades of turquoise around the Rock Islands. You're snorkeling through Jellyfish Lake on Eil Malk, brushing past golden mastigias that pulse like translucent hearts, when a dugong surfaces beside your kayak, its breath fogging in the 8 AM light. Koror's main drag is three blocks of weather-beaten storefronts where locals buy betel nut in red-stained plastic bags and visiting divers trade stories over ice-cold Red Rooster beer at Kramer's. Head north to Babeldaob and the highway dissolves into red-dirt tracks through mangrove forests; the stone monoliths at Ngarchelong stand eight feet tall, carved 1,000 years ago by people who believed the gods lived in these islands, not just tourists. Everything costs more—$8 for a pack of cigarettes, $25 for a simple lunch—because everything arrives by container ship from Guam. But then you're drifting through Blue Corner at 60 feet, schools of barracuda forming silver tornadoes around you, and the expense suddenly feels like the bargain of a lifetime.

Travel Tips

Transportation: Koror has exactly one traffic light and no rideshare apps. Rent a scooter from Surangel & Sons on Main Street for $25/day—gas is $5/gallon at the only reliable station opposite WCTC. The public 'bus' is a converted pickup truck that runs when full ($2), but hitchhiking actually works; stick your thumb out on the ring road and locals will stop. For the Rock Islands, negotiate directly with boat captains at the Malakal dock—$150-200 for a full day split between four people, lunch included. Skip the hotel shuttles; they charge 40% more for the same fiberglass boats.

Money: Palau uses US dollars exclusively, but ATMs are scarce outside Koror. Bank of Guam has the only 24-hour machine and limits foreign cards to $200 per transaction with a $5 fee. Credit cards work at most hotels and dive shops, but street vendors and family-run restaurants only take cash. Keep a roll of singles handy—tipping isn't expected but is deeply appreciated, especially for boat captains ($10-20) and the women selling taro chips at roadside stands ($1-3). Prices at the handful of grocery stores run 2-3× mainland US rates, so pack sunscreen and toiletries in checked luggage.

Cultural Respect: Yelling while snorkeling isn't just rude—it summons sharks in local lore. Ask permission before photographing the bai (men's meeting houses) in traditional villages; a simple 'mengermer' (go ahead) means yes. Remove shoes when entering any home, even if the host insists it's unnecessary. The WWII wrecks are war graves—touching artifacts is illegal and deeply offensive to families whose grandparents died here. Sunday is church day: most businesses close by noon, and the island takes on a quiet, almost suspended quality that's worth experiencing sober and respectful.

Food Safety: The reef fish here can carry ciguatera—avoid barracuda and large groupers unless you're eating at established spots like Taj where the chef knows the safe catches. Street-side sashimi at Neco's Fish Market runs $5-8 for tuna that's been swimming that morning; look for cloudy eyes or strong smell and walk away. Drink only bottled or boiled water—tap water is technically treated but tastes strongly of chlorine. The fruit stands near KB Bridge sell betel nut that stains teeth red and packs a caffeine-like buzz; first-timers should limit themselves to one quid to avoid vertigo.

When to Visit

November through April delivers the postcard—temperatures hovering at 28°C/82°F, water visibility pushing 30 meters, and trade winds that keep humidity bearable. This is peak season for a reason: German Channel fills with manta rays, Jellyfish Lake pulses with golden jellyfish instead of the clear, depleted versions of summer. Expect to pay 60-80% more for flights and hotels, especially around Christmas when the entire island seems booked by Japanese diving clubs. May to June offers the sweet spot—temperatures climb to 30°C/86°F but crowds thin by half. Hotel rates drop 25-30%, and the Rock Islands take on that empty, end-of-the-world feeling. The Pacific starts its summer mood swings—sudden afternoon squalls that clear as quickly as they arrive, leaving rainbows over the limestone karsts. July through October is typhoon season, technically. The storms usually track north of Palau, but when they hit, everything shuts down for days. Flights from Guam get cancelled, dive boats stay moored, and the humidity makes your passport pages curl. This is when the locals take their own vacations—half the restaurants close and the remaining ones raise prices 15-20% to compensate. Budget travelers willing to risk weather delays can find rooms for 40% less than January rates, but you'll be gambling with your vacation days. The real insider window? Late October, just before peak season starts. Water's still 29°C/84°F, manta rays begin returning to German Channel, and you'll have Jellyfish Lake almost to yourself. Flight prices are still reasonable, and the annual Belau Games bring traditional canoe races and storyboard carving competitions to Koror. It's the closest you'll get to seeing Palau before Palau became a thing.