Money Buys Happiness...

The vineyards are beautiful, even in winter

Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn

To end my year around the world on a high note, I chose to take myself to the Willow Stream Spa at the Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn for my birthday. The last time I was there was for my daughter’s high school graduation—we each choose two treatments (I had an herbal wrap and a massage, and she had a facial and massage). No doubt about it—it was an indulgence then and now.

As a die-hard researcher, I checked out all the local spas to see what each offered, including the Claremont in Berkeley, The Carneros Inn and Meadowood in the wine country. Luxury does not come cheap anywhere, but Sonoma Mission Inn offered the best options for the money. 
I booked the Guided Journey package ($385) that included a massage, chardonnay-olive oil-sugar polish and a pedicure among several choices. The services would have cost $165, $175 and $65 if purchased individually.

I drove up the morning of my birthday, anticipating a soak in the famous mineral water of the “bathing ritual” portion of the spa before my first treatment. I fondly remembered the pools and hot tub from my long-ago visit. After paying and asking for envelopes so I could tip in cash rather than add the “required” 18% tip for services to my credit card bill (I know it’s European and old-fashioned, but I believe in tipping according to service received), I popped down to the locker room (ultra clean and pleasant with showers, toilets and mirrored make-up room) and changed into my fluffy white robe and comfy slippers. There was supposed to be a concierge to show me around when I went downstairs, but there was no one in sight, so I wandered around for a while perusing the two outdoor swimming pools until I found the door to the bathing rooms. That’s when I received the only unpleasant news of the day.

Bathing Ritual Pool
Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn

I’m afraid the spa and my own memory share the fault—the bathing tubs and steam rooms that were once sex-segregated were now co-ed, and bathing suits (which I definitely did not bring) were required. I looked longingly at the body-temperature pool, the 104-degree pool, the steam room scented with eucalyptus and the dry sauna—all off-limits to naked me (though I could have worn my robe into the saunas). Nobody mentioned bathing suits when I booked, so better communication would be a plus. Two former attendees of the spa I talked to later said communication between the hotel and spa isn’t what it should be, but I booked directly with the spa, so no excuses.

The spa has a small boutique, so I spent the better part of my free hour trying on several $90 bathing suits, none of which fit properly. In a sour mood, I trundled back down to the locker room and grabbed my underwear—which (thank goodness) matched, and was a comely shade of brown, even though a bit lacy. I changed into it, and proceeded to the bathing area. Fortunately, the tubs had few people, and I ducked into a shower stall whenever spa personnel (the missing concierge!) came by. I got to try all the tubs and saunas, and fell madly in love with the wet sauna—my sinuses jumped for joy.

Wrapping up in my robe, I waited in the pleasant relaxation area (almonds, apples, bananas, tea and flavored water all available) for my masseur. Simeon L., handsome and British, guided me up to the massage room, where he proceeded to give me one of the best massages I’ve ever had, working out a periformas muscle kink I’ve had for more than a year. Simeon was exceptional, and I wholeheartedly recommend him to all—I’ll certainly go back to him in the future (visitors can book their favorites).

While lounging around, I got a tip that the Church Mouse thrift shop right across the street from the entrance to the Sonoma Mission Inn had a few new bathing suits on hand for situations like mine. I scurried over (well, as fast as my liquefied self could scurry), and bought a new Speedo suit for $23. Across the road, the Inn’s Big Three restaurant, though nearly deserted, served up a fine menu for everyone from the gluten-intolerant to full vegetarians and in-between. I had a bowl of truly homemade chicken noodle soup ($10), and made my way back to the spa for my next treatment.

Jennifer M. led me into a darkened, warmed-up treatment room and encouraged me to inhale deeply each of the scented potions she was going to use on me. Willow Stream has a signature blend of essential oils that includes lavender, neroli (bitter orange), sweet orange and a few other things, and it smells both comforting and energizing. The “polish” portion of the chardonnay/olive-oil/sugar-polish is like getting a rubdown with scented sandpaper—fantastic for taking off dead skin, but not for the sensitive. After being thoroughly scrubbed, I rinsed off in the in-room shower, and returned to a clean-sheeted table for the lotion potion. Olavie Chardonnay Body lotion smells incredible. I asked for a relaxing massage (as with a regular massage, you can specify what level of pressure, specific areas of need etc.), and I practically oozed back into the waiting area, where Rudolfo was waiting to prime and polish my toes.

Rudolfo is a charmer—he led me back to the salon where I was soaked, sanded and prepped—and allowed to nap a little in the massage chair during the process. The result: model-worthy feet.

Floating back to the changing room, I (very) slowly got myself together for the drive to a nearby restaurant to meet with friends for dinner. A darn-near perfect day all around!

Entrance to the hotel
Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn