Intimate conversations with the brilliant minds shaping Costa Rica and Panama’s luxury travel landscape. Explore the philosophies, passions, and innovative thinking driving the region’s most exceptional guest experiences.
On Panama’s Azuero Peninsula, cliffs drop straight into the Pacific Ocean, forest runs for miles without a road in sight, and the nearest town, Pedasí, still feels like the edge of the map. Here, three palatial estates sit inside a private reserve of protected forest, secluded, and until recently, invisible to anyone outside the families who own them.
Twenty years ago, none of it existed. The land was barren and deforested, its old-growth dry tropical forest – one of Panama’s most endangered ecosystems – reduced to scattered pockets.
It all started with a New York meeting: a European family of nobility who’d fallen for the coastline, and two young architects willing to leave the city for it. In 2008, Iván Morales moved to the Azuero coast with his fellow architect and wife, Kristin, to oversee construction of the first of the three homes they would build over the next two decades, Ama Estancia.
Javier Echecopar, Journey Costa Rica’s co-founder and managing director, sat down with Iván to talk about how they created an extraordinary world. Here’s what Javier took away from the conversation.
Integrating Architecture With Conservation
Building Ama Estancia meant stepping away from the predictability of urban practice, for construction on a remote, ecologically sensitive coastline.
“The project was never designed to be a resort,” Iván told me. “It started as three private retreats, for three different families.”
Where land had once been cleared for a U.S. Army landing strip, Iván and Kristin carved a 3-hectare freshwater lake instead, restoring the habitat and hydrology beneath it. In the years to follow, alongside construction of all three homes, they coordinated the planting of over 80,000 native trees, reconnecting what was left of the forest. Together with their clients, they formed Reserva Ecológica Panamaes, the private nature reserve now wrapped around Ama Estancia, Casa Loro, and Las Tortugas.
Creating an Experience, Not Just a House
During our conversation, it strikes me that this sounds less like architecture and more like an old exploration story, someone founding a city in uncharted terrain, weighing the sun, the moon, every variable of the land. Seeking the spot that could hold the experience they were trying to create.
“It was like building a world,” Iván agreed.
Ama Estancia started as a true blank slate. “The most important decision was where to build. Why here, of all places?” Iván said. Every building was oriented from scratch: sunrise, sunset, the best view from the dining room. From the tower on Ama Estancia’s third floor, you can see the whole property laid out toward the ocean. “When you walk in, you should see the waves break right in front of you, and hear them.”
Casa Loro and Las Tortugas came years later. Casa Loro was built for Aerin Lauder and Eric Zinterhofer, who’d traveled to Panama many times and were seduced by a sense of tropical paradise. Their requests were simple: a bedroom for their kids beside their own, space for two couples, and wooden facades.
“Eric always dreamed of having a treehouse,” Iván told me. “So our concept was, let’s design the gardens first, not the plants, the spaces. We designed it a little backwards, the experience of what you’ll see when you walk in, almost cinematic, like a film. The idea was that in ten years, all of this would be forest.”
Las Tortugas sits inside the forest itself. Getting the view right meant pruning, never felling, enough trees for the ocean to open up beyond them. It was built, too, for a large, close-knit family who wanted to enjoy togetherness. The house turns inward around a central courtyard that draws a natural breeze through the property, offering two different views at once: from inside, you feel like you’re standing on the sand; from elsewhere on the grounds, you’re perched right above the sea.
Each house, he says, took roughly a year just to find its place on the land. Meeting the extraordinary expectations of the owners meant assembling their own team, too: local artisans, cabinetmakers, furniture and interior designers, who’ve shaped all three estates ever since.
“We became a cultural island of our own making.”
Patience is something Iván comes back to more than once. “You have to take your time,” he said. “I think the greatest luxury we’ve had is time. We never had to rush a decision.”
Time Is the Real Luxury
That shows up nowhere more than in the reforestation. Of the property’s 560 hectares, about 120 have been replanted, drawing birds, seeds, deer, eventually ocelots back to land that had none. “It’s a connection of different systems,” Iván explained: not plumbing and wiring, but flora and fauna, finding their own balance. A protected sea turtle nursery on the property runs independently of any single house.
“You have to imagine the change,” he said. “Some of it you only really see in the ten-year photos, before and after. It becomes a completely different world.”
For Iván, the forest is proof of something bigger than landscaping. “Our clients can see beyond one generation, two, three generations out,” he said. “It’s a legacy. They’re not just building a house. They’re building something they want to leave behind.”
True Connection, Not a Show
Ask what guests are actually paying for, and Iván doesn’t reach for the usual luxury language. “You feel like you’re in a home, not a hotel. Nothing branded,” he said. “And still, the best chefs, the freshest vegetables, service that’s completely personal, but never cold.”
It took roughly six years to get that balance right. The first chef, hired in 2010, was 22 and running a tiny restaurant in Pedasí; he trained the chef who now runs the kitchen at Ama Estancia.
“We’ve never wanted to put on a show, or play a character. It’s the luxury of being able to relax, and just be human, somewhere beautiful.”
The hiring philosophy follows the same logic: character over résumé. The reforestation lead also teaches surfing. The maintenance manager is a former ship’s captain. “There’s a real connection between guests and the team, human to human,” Iván told me. Dignidad mutua, mutual dignity, is how he puts it.
A Day at Reserva Panamaes
The journey is part of the design. Guests are met planeside in Panama City and flown 30 minutes by small aircraft over the canal, skyscrapers giving way to jungle below, before dirt roads narrow, and narrow again, until the gates appear, deliberately plain, so the impact lands only once you’re inside.
From there, the days flow at their own pace, and it’s easy to lose track of time: fishing at sunrise, surf lessons, an afternoon snorkeling a reef restoration project, a turtle release in season. Most guests are asleep by 8pm, worn out in the best way.
Iván sums it up simply: the ease and abundance of a high-end retreat, without the hospitality feeling rigid, or over-scripted.
The Magic Is in the Memory
Roughly 80% of guests, Iván told me, ask to buy property inside the reserve. “Everyone wants that world,” he said.
As we wrapped up, we landed on the real reason people return. It’s the version of themselves they connected with while they were there, the moments together that became family stories.
That’s where the magic is.
Get in touch with Journey Costa Rica’s expert team to start planning a trip to Reserva Panamaes.
