It is a question we get a lot from guests: So… are there snakes here?
There’s usually a pause after that. A careful look around. A mental calculation involving flip-flops, hammocks and life expectancy.
So yes. Let’s clear the air: we have snakes in the garden at Geckoes Lodge. And no, that’s not a problem. In fact, we’re quietly pleased about it. Because in the jungle, snakes don’t show up by accident.
It’s their neighbourhood
If you grew up far from the tropics, snakes tend to arrive in your imagination fully formed: menacing, aggressive and somehow always right behind you. Reality is far less cinematic.
Most of the snakes we see are shy, discreet and deeply uninterested in humans. And some are downright gorgeous. They don’t announce themselves, nor do they hang around paths waiting to scare guests. Half the time, they’ve already disappeared by the time someone calls René or tries to take a picture.
They were here long before there were lodges, paths or outdoor showers. We didn’t invite them in – we simply built our lives in their territory. Seeing a snake isn’t a warning sign. It’s a reminder of where you are.
Snakes are picky flatmates
Here’s the thing snakes never get credit for: they’re surprisingly fussy. They rely on intact habitats, healthy prey populations and a functioning food chain. If the ecosystem starts failing, many snake species are among the first to quietly decline or move elsewhere. So when they do stick around, it usually means the jungle is doing what it’s supposed to do: frogs are thriving, insects are busy, and the whole system is ticking along nicely.
In other words: snakes don’t live just anywhere. If they’re here, the jungle is healthy.
Familiar faces (the ones we’re quite used to by now)
Over the years, we’ve shared the garden with a whole range of species.
There are the snail-eaters – small and harmless, with a very specific diet and absolutely no interest in drama.
There are boas – impressive, calm, and far more relaxed than their reputation suggests.
And then there’s the vejuquillo, or vine snake. Long, elegant, and constantly mistaken for a vine. It’s arboreal, beautifully camouflaged, and so good at pretending to be vegetation that guests often stare at it for several seconds before realising the branch is staring back. No lunging. No chasing. Just excellent camouflage and impeccable jungle manners.
The ones we respect from a distance
Of course, not all snakes fall into the interesting but harmless category. Species like tamagá, mica, coral and terciopelo are part of the ecosystem too, and we treat them with calm respect. No panic, no heroics, no pretending they don’t exist. Awareness goes a long way here.
Living in the jungle isn’t about eliminating risk — it’s about understanding it.
Today’s star: the yellow oropel
And then there are days when the jungle still manages to surprise us. Today was one of those days: our first-ever yellow oropel. Bright, almost unreal yellow. Arboreal, elegant, and frankly a little outrageous. One of those creatures that makes you stop mid-sentence and just stare.
Even after years of living here, moments like that never get old.
So… should you be worried when staying at Geckoes?
Short answer: no. You don’t need to love snakes. You don’t even need to like them. You just need to know that their presence isn’t a problem to be fixed. Encounters are rare, and there’s a clear way of dealing with them if needed. René knows exactly what to do if a snake turns up somewhere inconvenient.
And a garden with snakes?
That’s not a danger sign. That’s a sign that nature still knows what it’s doing.