Yesterday was a day to relax and enjoy the spa at this most beautiful resort. There are spas, and then, there are REAL spas. This is in the later category. An indulgence that is so special, it must be savored, every minute a treat.
My day started with room service breakfast, a vacation favorite. No. It isn’t cost effective. In fact, the prices are nuts. But, to have a hot breakfast delivered to the door goes hand in hand with vacation.
There was a problem connecting to Bluehost for blogging in the morning. Technology wasn’t agreeing. However, with a simple phone call to a techno-nerd, things were up and running, giving me the ability to report on Day 1. Sitting by the window, overlooking the magnificent pool , I felt as if I’d traveled to another country. The resort lists prices by night on their website. On a busy weekend, the room might cost $700, luxurious beyond compare. By shopping for off days, it was a little over $100 a night. It pays to investigate these things.
After blogging and breakfast, it was time to walk to the spa. Elegant and swanky, two attendants waited at their marble perch for patrons to arrive. Proper reservations in order, another attendant guided me into the inner sanctum of serenity. Wearing black tunics and leggings, the attendants were sleek and attentive. They ushered me to the locker room, giving me an amazingly thick and luxurious spa robe. My adventure began.
Up one level by elevator, the door slid open revealing tranquil nirvana. No glaring lights. Delicate scents of lavender. Everything neat, tidy, and restful. I made my way to the Himalayan Salt Room and melted into one of the white leather chairs of which I have spoken previously. Whatever the Himalayan Salt does, sign me up. A wall of water created a delicate splashing sound, while the low lights invited peace. It was there I waited for my masseuse.
Being a redneck farm girl, all this pampering is new to me. I didn’t grown up with manicures and pedicures. Facials weren’t a weekly event. And a massage?????? That wasn’t part of country life. A gym experience involved walking the avenue to irrigate the vines. Picking up pruned stumps in the spring and tossing them in the trailer while walking at a snail’s pace up and down 109 vineyard. Painting, cleaning, trimming, pruning. Always in tip-top shape, plenty of physical work kept us that way. No, a spa is something fairly new to me.
When sceduling my appointment, an interesting question came up for consideration.
Male or Female Masseuse?
Yikes.
The me of old would have cowered and demanded a woman. But, the new me, brave and bold, cared not, casting fear to the wind. As Doris Day whispered in brain, Que Sera Sera. What ever will be, will be. Now, sitting in the Himalayan Salt Room, I questioned my decision while waiting for my treatment.
Reuel called my name (pronounced Rule). Collecting my bag and nerve, we were off down the darkened hall into our own treatment room. Professional and proper, we discussed my ideas for the proper massage. Explaining that my Senior Citizen self didn’t want a forceful experience, he totally understood. I was left to situate myself under soft blankets on a pre-warmed table, softly vibrating with the music.
As experiences go, there are little day spas in ever town. In strip malls or a converted house. Peaceful little places in which to experience a nice massage. This spa is above and beyond, offering the finest equipment to enhance the experience. The spa table was just one example.
For 50 minutes Reuel got rid of ever crimped muscle and doubt that I’m a true fan of the male masseuse. Sharing a tip, he took folded towels, and placed them under my shoulders as I lay face down. This relieved stress on my back, something I plan to do at home once in awhile. Slathered with creams, lotions, and potions, I drifted into the soft background music. 50 minutes evaporated quickly, and it was time to enjoy the rest of the spa.
Taking an elevator up one floor again, I entered the Caldarium (Latin root — room containing warm water for bathing). Filled with relaxed people, a private pool and hot tubs await completed the scene. Walking right past all that, I headed straight for the Relaxation Room. The last time I’d been to this room, Miss Firecracker and I were enjoying the day together. This time, I went in alone.
Tranquil and serene, this dark chair-lined room featured a video display of the Northwestern Nevada night sky on a screen high on the wall. The chairs flipped easily into Zero Gravity. To explain, you sit down, press a button, and your feet are then way above your head. This takes all pressure off your back, positioning you perfectly for the show. Again, soft Zen music accompanies the stars. There are salt candles and a wall of water creating peace. No yappy women came to ruin the experience. Just me and the heavens. I think I fell asleep for just a minute or two.
After time had passed, I was off to order lunch. Miss Firecracker had done the smart thing on our last visit, ordering the Crab, Avocado, and Pita Salad for lunch. Oh. My. Goodness. I will be recreating that recipe at home. The freshest crab. Ripe California Avocados. Cherry tomatoes. A creamy dressing. This was an amazing lunch taken on the peristyle, alone. Inside, the unmasked throngs were poolside in their robes. No one took the time to go outside for a bit of sun or social distancing. While a bit smoky, the 75 degree breeze was delightful for sunbathing. Thirty minutes of sun a day provides us with much needed Vitamin D. The patio was mine to enjoy alone.
Finally, dropping down two floors, I’d hoped to enjoy the private women’s facilities, complete with steam and dry saunas and a bubbling hot tub. Sadly, women yapped incessantly until I could take no more, causing me to return my room for a nap. Women. Just shut the front door, ladies. There is a time and place for continuous gabbing.
The rest of my day was complete with intermittent trips to the pool for some sunshine and more room service. Some people can’t even enjoy a meal alone. I took an entire Italian vacation all by myself and enjoyed every minute. Truly, it seems I’ve been on a Tuscan holiday. Ready to find out about Oliver’s run with the pack at Puppy Camp, we’ll trek along the Loneliest Highway back to Winterpast. Back to the mail and yard work. On towards tomorrow.
Arrivederci, faithful Readers. Have a wonderful day.