As a food writer, I don’t usually come across snakes on my beat.

Which is a very good thing.

I have ophidiophobia, or as I prefer to call it — snake-o-phobia.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had an irrational and paralyzing fear of them, from 5-inch blindsnakes on up.

In 2018, I read about a woman who was gardening in Indonesia when a 23-foot python swallowed her (!!!). That story has lived in my head rent-free ever since.

My unchecked fear was put to the test at The News-Press when I edited reader-submitted photos for Tropicalia’s Pictures in Paradise page.

After years of exposure, I was finally able to look at photos of snakes without breaking into a cold sweat by squinting and pushing my chair far away from my desk.

When I became the food and dining reporter, my life was joyfully snake-free again.

Until Aug. 20, 2025.

I needed a Sunday cover story ASAP and stumbled across Iguanaland in Punta Gorda.

The largest reptile zoo in the world was just an hour away, and with deadline pressure looming, I scheduled an interview for the next day.

I should be fine, right? After all, it was Iguanaland and not Snakeland. But as I did more research, I quickly realized that I had issues with iguanas, too.

I’m fine with the ones skittering across the road. Iguanaland, though, has some serious iguanas. Intimidating ones that look like they would be besties with snakes.

Oh, news flash — Iguanaland has snakes too.

I often shoot my own food photos and videos, but to swap out tacos and pizza with snakes and their iguana friends? No way I could do it.

Panicked, I did the only thing I could think of — I texted photojournalist Andrew West.

I was prepared to beg and bribe him (millions if necessary), but luckily, he shuffled things around to meet me.

I didn’t sleep the night before with visions of the snake-swallowed Indonesian woman running through my head, wondering if I was about to suffer the same fate in Charlotte County.

I literally gasped as soon as I stepped inside Iguanaland. A huge iguana was just a foot away. I was about to faint or run or both simultaneously when I realized it was a statue used for taking selfies. Not off to a good start.

But then I met conservationist, herpetologist, founder and all-around nice guy Ty Park, whose warmth and empathy somehow put me at ease.

We conducted the interview next to the turtles because “everyone loves turtles,” he said.

I sure did.

I watched in awe (and as far away as possible) as Andrew got down on the ground to photograph a six-foot-long snake slithering his way. I worried he would be swallowed.

Moments later, as he disappeared into the enclosure of a humongous iguana, I was so sure I would never see him again.

But out he came, alive and well, dashing off toward the snakes as I lingered among the turtles.

When Andrew returned an eternity later, he was followed by a zookeeper and a 30-pound iguana for a photoshoot with Ty.

I stood behind Andrew (he’s tall!), feeling somewhat guarded and safe.

When we eventually left Iguanaland, I wondered if I would ever return.

Ty was a joy, and I did make some turtle friends after all.

But my snake-o-phobia (and newfound iguan-o-phobia) was alive and well.

Would I go back? Maybe. But only if Andrew can come too.

Robyn George is a food and dining reporter for The News-Press. Connect at rhgeorge@fortmyer.gannett.com

This article originally appeared on Naples Daily News: Is Iguanaland in Punta Gorda a good place to see iguanas?