DRIVE about one hour in any given direction from San Diego’s airport and you’ll likely wind up hitting a spa. You can’t help it — they’re endemic to the landscape there.
In Vista, Cal-a-Vie devotees can splurge on the “European Package,” an all-inclusive, seven-day, 16-treatment getaway for $8,000. Traditionalists can splash out for a week at the Golden Door in Escondido between Oct. 11 and 18 starting at $6,000 — including 18 treatments — and from $7,500 thereafter.
But those who are looking for something a little more rustic and a lot more affordable, book it across the border to Rancho La Puerta in Tecate, Mexico. There, an all-inclusive week starts at just $2,720, including round-trip transport from San Diego International airport and two free spa treatments (through Oct. 31) — an unlimited-treatments package can be tacked on for just $769.
Everything is what you make of it at the Rancho. With over 50 classes to choose from each day, dozens of bliss-inducing spa treatments, a mountain to hike, an organic farm, cooking and dance classes, tennis courts, a craft center and the option of private fitness instruction, there’s more than enough to keep busy. Or, just laze by one of the four swimming pools all week, rising only to feast, three times each day, on the abundant, organic lacto-ovo-pesca-vegetarian meals. No one will boss you around.
New Yorkers, who make up much of the Rancho’s clientele (second only to Californians) are notoriously aggressive about relaxing — I woke up for 6 a.m. hikes every morning before breakfast. (I’m surprised I didn’t die.) Two friends who booked the villa next door went on all-out workout binges, hitting over six classes each day. One of them was scolded for trying to take more than one circuit-training session in an afternoon.
“It does feel like fat camp,” said a shrink from Chicago at dinner one night.
Sure, the “casita”-style accommodations, regimented schedule, set mealtimes, emphasis on early lights-out (all scheduled activities end around 9 p.m.) and an intimate week spent with only 125 other people (mostly women) on a 3,000-acre property does feel an awful lot like an extremely posh, grown-up version of summer camp.
But there’s not even a twinge of deprivation — though butter and bacon were nowhere to be found, if you asked nicely, a dish of Hershey’s Kisses can be made to magically appear.
Special cash-purchase order forms are available in the concierge office for guests who want to sample the famous local sweet bread and Tecate beer. We even scored a bottle of Freixenet, served cold and bubbly in a glass on a patio watching the sunset on Mt. Kuchumaa. (Priceless.)
And while I gorged myself on all-you-can-eat breakfast and lunch buffets and greedily ordered “The Combo” (code word for “Give me both entrees”) at dinner every night, I knew, deep down inside, that I was getting healthier.
The ranch enforces a strict no-cellphones-in-public policy and there’s varying degrees of meditative programming for the truly hardcore. One silent hike was enough for me — sometimes you just want to talk about the bugs and sunrise, okay? — so I opted out of the silent dinner.
There was a little bit of a crazy quotient, too — I mean, it’s a spa (read: self-identifying-rehab lite). At film critic Roger Ebert’s talk on the best films of the year, gangs of middle-aged women erupted in screams and cheers when they heard the words, “Julie & Julia.” Right — better not tell them what I really thought of “Eat, Pray, Love.”
One thing I found both reassuring and oddly startling: Rancho-goers are loyal. Oh, boy, are they loyal. The week I visited, two of my fellow spa-goers had been there 53 times each. Roger and his wife, Chaz Ebert, have been there 28 and 32 times, respectively. And I had breakfast one morning with a sports-bra-and-diamond-bedecked woman from Texas who was there for the 26th time. Clearly, Rancho was working for her — she looked early-40s but was secretly in her mid-60s.
“I run the mountain every morning,” she told me. “Once, I bumped into illegal immigrants. They asked me how to get to the United States.”
It’s hard to imagine a setting more idyllic for illegal border crossing. Bunnies, squirrels, exotic birds and friendly kitties scamper around at all hours. The grounds are thick with clusters of trees heaving ripe organic pomegranates, pears, grapes and juicy figs — guests are encouraged to pluck and sample.
Every morning, a family of geckos congregated on our sun-drenched doormat — by midweek they didn’t even run away when I opened the door. Instead, they glanced at me over their shoulders, like “Hey, what’s up!” before going back to their ritual sunning.
Besides surviving a full schedule including many meals, hiking, yoga and dance — okay, full disclosure, there are lots of senior citizens at the Rancho, so classes aren’t as strenuous as, say, your local Equinox gym — the other highlights of my week included: finding out first-hand that there are “wild” cows and horses roaming Mt. Kuchumaa; crunching corn fresh off the stalk at Rancho Tres Estrellas organic farm; booking Cesario for a deep-tissue massage; and experiencing the ranch’s Healing Therapy massage.
The latter, based on principles of Myofascial Release Therapy, is a treatment where my practitioner pushed wooden pegs into my back and shoulders, asked me if it hurt, and if I said yes, he’d push harder. It was awesome — after the pain went away two days later, my stiff joints and muscles were far more pliable.
It’s also sort of a great analogy for the Rancho itself — it might hurt, it will push you harder, but after all is said and done, you’re a better person for it.
See you next year.
THE LOWDOWN
A week at Rancho La Puerta start at $2,795 per person when you book a double; for more information, visit rancholapuerta.com or call (800) 443-7565.