There's little between you and all this sensual beauty, no mass of people blocking a full-on experience. Belize is a tiny nation, population about 295,000. Tourists are more eco-traveler than luxe or the party-hearty crowd.
And though it's very unlikely you'll see a jaguar - they're good at distancing themselves - it's tantalizing to know they're there.
As I lay in bed in my screened casita in the jungle, I hoped to hear a low growl or two. But no, I slept soundly, waking to lilting bird calls. Chan Chich Lodge is deep in the jungle, which became evident as our small plane made the 45-minute flight from Belize City.
The lodge has 12 thatched-roof casitas tucked in among Maya burial mounds of a city occupied from 750 B.C. to A.D. 850. The ruins and excavations are intertwined with nine miles of meticulously maintained hiking trails - we saw workers raking them as we set off on a 6 a.m. hike.
That was the hike when our guide pointed out the spider monkey family swinging through the canopy on its morning commute - mother, father and then baby sailing from branch to branch above us. We also passed the king's tomb on that hike - excavated and robbed long ago - but you can go in and take a look. Two other hikers and I skipped it after our guide told us a couple had met a jaguar as they entered.
The jungle pulses with life - common houseplants such as philodendrons grow to giant versions, and bougainvillea pop with purpleness.
The healthy jungle ecosystem is famous among birders worldwide for harboring 356 species. As we hiked, wrens warbled as if they were priming a pump, and flashes of color flitted overhead. At lunch and dinner on the guest-area deck, we watched brightly colored ocellated turkeys strut past. These turkeys are an endangered species in other parts of Central America, but they're abundant here.
