There are hotels, and then there are sanctuaries. Ritz-Carlton Reserve properties belong firmly in the latter category. They are not defined by marble lobbies or ostentatious chandeliers, but by the way they sink gracefully into their surroundings, honoring the land and the culture they inhabit. Our first encounter with this philosophy was at Mandapa in Bali, where we discovered a silence so profound it felt almost holy. That experience lingered with us—so when the doors to Nekajui, the newest Ritz-Carlton Reserve on Costa Rica’s Papagayo Peninsula, opened, we arrived not simply as travelers, but as pilgrims in search of something we couldn’t quite name.

We expected beauty. We expected luxury. What we didn’t anticipate was the way Nekajui would reveal itself—slowly, almost shyly—like a story told in whispers rather than declarations.

A Resort That Hides in Plain Sight

Unlike many resorts that dominate their landscape, Nekajui blends into it. Tucked into the cliffs and forests of Papagayo, its architecture draws from local wood, carved stone, and muted tones that echo the earth itself. From a distance, you’d be hard pressed to spot where the land ends and the property begins. Stepping into our villa, we were greeted not by glossy design statements, but by a sweeping view of the bay framed by a living soundtrack—howler monkeys, rustling leaves, the layered chorus of tropical birds.

Mornings unfolded on our terrace with the jungle awakening in slow motion. Evenings stretched into hours under a starlit sky, the only light a handful of lanterns, their glow carefully chosen not to disturb the natural rhythm around us.

A Spa in the Trees

If the heart of Nekajui beats anywhere, it is in its spa. Suspended above the canopy, the treatment rooms resemble floating treehouses, designed for quiet rather than spectacle. Here, the pace of life dissolves.

We fell into a ritual of moving between warm and cold pools, dipping into stillness as though it were medicine. Treatments felt less like services and more like ceremonies—offerings to body and spirit. There were moments, in that hushed air scented with earth and water, when I looked across at my husband and felt as though we were rediscovering each other. Clear-eyed. Connected. Restored.

A Culinary Story, Told Slowly

Meals at Nekajui did not dazzle with extravagance but with intention. Each dish was a thread in Costa Rica’s story—fresh ceviche kissed with local citrus, vegetables roasted to coax out their natural sweetness, recipes rooted in tradition but presented with an unexpected twist. The chef’s work felt less like dining and more like listening, as though every bite carried a fragment of history and place.

Perhaps the most memorable ritual, though, was coffee. In Costa Rica, coffee is not hurried—it is honored. One morning we learned the traditional pour-over method using a chorreador. The act itself was meditative: hot water moving slowly through the grounds, the rising fragrance filling the air like incense. It wasn’t about caffeine—it was about presence. The ritual became an invitation to begin the day with gratitude rather than haste.

Hidden Worlds Waiting to Be Found

Just when we thought we’d uncovered all of Nekajui’s treasures, another layer revealed itself. A secret cove with black volcanic sand, warm beneath our feet, where we spent hours cut off from the world. A waterfall-fed pool deep in the forest, the soundtrack nothing more than birdsong and falling water. And a speakeasy, cleverly hidden behind a bookshelf, where candlelight flickered over glasses of aged rum and strangers quickly became confidants.

These discoveries never felt staged or rushed. Instead, they appeared as gifts—reminders that some of the best moments arrive unplanned, when you simply allow yourself to wander.

More Than a Destination

There are places you visit and leave behind. Then there are places that imprint themselves so deeply they become part of you. Nekajui is the latter. It doesn’t shout for your attention; it hums quietly until you notice that something inside you has softened, shifted.

Costa Rica now holds that space for us—a place we long not just to remember, but to return to. Nekajui, with its wild beauty and soulful quiet, has become more than a destination. It is a reminder of what it means to be still, to be present, to be fully alive.

And that, more than luxury, is the rarest gift of all.