Maddie’s antidote to it all

What do you do when every bone in your body aches from a 5913-mile plane ride and you’re sure you’re going to be a victim of blood clots, unless the monkey meat you’ve eaten kills you first? Go to the spa! And that’s just what I did today. A little re-charging thanks to my favorite Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn Spa. (Check it out: www.fairmont.com/sonoma/Recreation/SPA.)

A spa day is great for no reason at all but today I had my reasons, the 3 R’s of Recovery, Renewal and Relaxation. And what better way to start than a refreshing cocktail out by the pool? I saw another en-robed guest enjoying a mojito and I said, “I’ll have what she’s having.” One sip put me in a state of deep disappointment: I was having a cleansing detox drink of wheat grass and blue algae. I suppose this is the right elixir for a weary traveler who has eaten highly questionable cuisine in a communist country, but still! The drink wasn’t bad, but it would have been a lot better with some rum. The spa prohibits such poisons, as they are contrary to the whole purpose of “spa”. I get it, but this is wine country, so I at least ought be able to get a glass of THAT and enjoy the health benefits.

What’s so great about this particular spa is the legendary Roman Baths. Or maybe they’re Greek. The place really looks like something Indiana Jones might uncover, minus the dust and snakes. Once you get into your swimsuit (it is co-ed, folks!) you are handed a laminated bathing ritual card telling you what to do and in what order. Do the wet sauna, then you rest, then dry sauna, exfoliating shower, rest some more, cool off shower, colder shower, rinse, rest again, etc. Forget all that! Here’s the good stuff: the thermal mineral baths. They are fed by their own source, the Boyes Hot Springs right beneath the resort. There are two temperatures to choose from. The tepid one does nothing for me, so I soaked in a sea of nearly hot mineral-rich water for about an hour. Then I went for my treatment. I chose the Chardonnay Olive Oil Sugar Scrub, thinking a glass of wine must be a part of that. Again, my hopes were dashed but my skin felt radiant (or maybe just raw.)

Afterwards, I headed over to the spa pool for a few hours of “reflection”, i.e. reclining and reading. My feet were oiled up so much my spa slippers were flying across the deck! I was pretty relaxed after my massage and it was hard to find the strength to hold up my book, and I was hardly sustained by a meager spa lunch of a watercress and papaya sandwich served with another anti-mojito. Still, I loved not hearing the phone or anyone yelling, “Maddie!” Yeah, I could get used to that…

Though my visit was to enhance harmony and affirm chakra balance, and all the other spa-isms bandied about, I also started formulating a plan to introduce a line of Red House spa-wear for staff and guests alike. And it became clear I’d need to spent a lot of time at this and other spas to do “research” on what to offer in my future line (!!) Next time here, I’ll sign up for some of the other offerings, like yoga, and even a tarot card reading - to find out what’s ahead for Red House, of course. And I’ll remember to sneak a thermos in too.