Winter sun in the Americas is this beautiful invitation—to trade gray skies for tropical breezes, to replace coasts with canopies, and dive headfirst into forest and sea. Whether you’re perched above Costa Rican surf or on bamboo stilts in Mexico, these treehouses carry a gentle thrill: they say, “Yes, you’re away—and you’re going to feel it.” Ready to drift through leafy hideaways from Central America and beyond? Let’s climb up.
Costa Rica doesn’t really need an introduction when it comes to treehouses—it almost feels like the entire country was designed for them. Rainforests, waterfalls, coastlines, volcanoes—it’s wild in that “how is this even real?” kind of way. And in winter, while half the world’s buried in snow, here you’ve got balmy air, green on green on green, and treetop stays that make you forget the word deadline. Honestly, it’s paradise with extra roots and branches.
This place is straight out of a childhood dream, but reimagined for grown-ups who want comfort with their adventure. Hidden on the Caribbean side, just steps from the beach, The Treehouse Lodge has these stilted wooden cabins that make you climb a suspension bridge before bed.
It’s quirky, a little dramatic, and just plain fun. You hear the ocean crashing at night, monkeys arguing in the trees, and wake up to the smell of damp forest. It’s not polished luxury—it’s alive, raw, and sometimes a bit creaky. But honestly? That’s exactly what makes it so memorable.
Now, La Tigra feels different—less whimsical, more grounded, more… purposeful. Nestled in secondary rainforest near Arenal Volcano, La Tigra Rainforest Lodge is a project with heart: the lodge actively supports forest regeneration, meaning every guest plays a role in replanting and protecting this patch of wild.
The cabins are perched on stilts among the greenery, simple but sweet, with wide decks where the air smells of wet leaves and earth. Nights here are loud—rain drumming the roof, frogs croaking like tiny jazz singers—but it’s strangely soothing. This isn’t about escaping into fantasy. It’s about feeling connected, part of something bigger.
And then there’s Finca Bellavista—oh boy. This one isn’t a lodge so much as a living, breathing community of treehouses, scattered across hundreds of acres of rainforest. Each home was dreamed up and built by its owners, so you get everything from rustic little nests to multi-level jungle palaces. It’s off-grid, which means composting toilets, solar panels, and hauling your groceries up ladders (not exactly for the lazy).
But that’s part of the magic—you’re not just visiting a place, you’re stepping into a lifestyle. Evenings are lantern-lit, with neighbors swapping stories on walkways strung above the ground. It’s eccentric, imperfect, and—let’s be real—not for everyone. But if you’re a dreamer, it might just change how you think about “home.”
Mexico has this way of surprising you. One minute it’s all sun-drenched beaches and margaritas, the next it’s mangroves, jungle, and tucked-away treehouses that feel like they’re part of some secret bohemian fairytale. And winter here? Warm, golden, endlessly inviting. These treehouses don’t just perch above the ground—they feel like they belong to the land, each one telling a different story.
Playa Viva’s treehouses don’t mess around. Suspended above the sand and shaped like little woven pods, they practically float among palm fronds. You wake up with the Pacific rolling in front of you and a hammock that begs for lazy afternoons.
It’s eco-luxury with a conscience: solar power, organic gardens, even a turtle sanctuary. Nothing feels forced, though—it’s stylish, but also barefoot-simple. Sure, the ocean breeze might whip your hair into knots, but that’s the kind of problem you laugh about later.
Now this one’s in a league of its own. Perched high above the jungle, the One&Only Mandarina Treehouses feel more like floating suites than rustic hideouts. Think plunge pools on private decks, king beds wrapped in mosquito netting that looks more like art, and service that somehow feels invisible yet always there.
It’s polished, no doubt—some might even say too polished—but if you’re after pure indulgence, this is it. The jungle stretches out beneath you like a painting, and the sunsets? Ridiculous.
This one’s different—bohemian, raw, almost deliberately undone. Set on the edge of Tulum, the Playa Papaya Project treehouses are woven with wood and palm leaves, perched just high enough to catch the ocean breeze.
They’re not about perfection; they’re about vibe. Driftwood furniture, beach bonfires, music that floats up through the night. It’s social, slightly wild, and not for anyone craving solitude. But if you want barefoot parties with a treehouse bed to crash in after? You’ll be grinning.
Finally, something calmer. Boca de Agua is set on Bacalar’s famous “Lagoon of Seven Colors,” and the treehouses here lean modern—sleek wood, glass, and balconies that open right onto turquoise water.
It’s eco-sensitive but not rough; you’ve got hot showers, clean design, and the kind of sunrise that makes you forget your phone. This is the peaceful side of Mexico’s treehouse scene—less barefoot rave, more slow mornings with coffee and lake breezes.