Aaah, this is why I came to California: to breathe in the mountainous green vistas against the majestic blue sky, the breeze kissing my shoulders, sun dappling and shadows dancing. A blonde man two decks down offers a wordless wave and a smile, a simple gesture of camaraderie. We're all in this together.

Cal-A-Vie (which means California life in French) is both a vigorous and pampering retreat spa frequented by stars such as Kathleen Turner and Larry Hagman, and the well-heeled. I'm only here for a "petite week," so I'll miss Paula Abdul, who arrives two days after I depart. One guest who is on a serious weight-loss regimen in advance of her 50th birthday, is spending 20 weeks here this year.

The all-female fitness staff's energy-upbeat, never condescending-makes Cal-A-Vie a standout among its competitors. I am especially fascinated by Leslie, a corkscrew-haired blond glamazon with a fascinating back tattoo and the most streamlined figure-even after two, or is it three, kids. When I asked, she explained that all the teaching and talking keep them from working in their prime cardio range so all the trainers do their own workouts at lunch. That explains the abs of steel.

With only 24 guests on 200 acres, Cal-a-Vie is an intimate environment, made more so by the fact that most of us pad around in our robes or spa-issued gray sweats (which look good on no one). Our predominantly female group includes several mother/daughter duos, a filmmaker, a lawyer, several entrepreneurs, two couples, a couple of retirees, a foundation director, an architect, a fashion designer, a banker and one very female disciplined dynamo, a CFO; more than half are repeat guests.

Many of us reveal very personal information during our tenure. We bond, traversing the village-like collection of terracotta-roofed buildings with their unpretentious elegance, over our mutual lack of fitness and admiration of the staff. That's why, when half of us depart mid-week, there's a moment of genuine sadness, authentic hugs, good-byes and email exchanges.

While the jump start to my (non-existent) fitness routine is welcome, I must admit I look forward most to the treatments-and the food (more on that later). Over the three days I am here, I sample numerous treatments. There's hydrotherapy in a deep tub overlooking a ridge covered in succulents, its jets made foamy by an aromatic mixture added to the water. Natalie, who is a prettier, more petite version of actress Lisa Rinna, gives a marvelous deep tissue massage. Sarah gives me reflexology session and I drift off into sleep, her hands plying my feet. The Vichy evokes memories of being a kid in a sprinkler. The facial and stone massage are top-notch. I even get my roots touched up in the beauty salon one afternoon. There's also afternoon yoga classes and labyrinth walking.

In between all the activities, I retire to my room, passing a bunny, which seems never to move from the same spot adjacent to the swimming pool. Window boxes brimming with pink flowers flank the wooden door to my room. Inside, the beamed ceiling soars, there's an armoire, a chaise, a single orchid, an inviting bed (not that I'll spend much time in it) and a sunny country French d cor. There's no TV and no one locks their door. The room is attended to several times daily and my laundry-the robes, towels and sweats I am plowing through on what seems like an hourly basis-is always neatly folded in three piles on the window seat in the marble bathroom. I never want to leave.

I confess I've brought in contraband: a chocolate bar (I contemplated brining alcohol, but resisted). Turns out, amazingly, I'm not even tempted, so good is the food. There is no decision-making: all your meals are served in three courses based on caloric intake (from the profile I filled out prior to my arrival and from the intake interview held upon arrival). Chefs Steve and Jason prepare gourmet food that is incredibly fresh (California produce is the nation's best), flavorful, creative and filling-a big surprise since I usually help myself to seconds.

My favorite lunch meal includes wild rice and barley chicken salad with tarragon vinaigrette and a smoothie; my favorite dinner is chilled lobster salad and fettuccine pasta; Lourdes' huevos rancheros my favorite breakfast (and Lourdes herself my favorite server/cook). A couple of times I challenge the kitchen, just to see what happens. I send back cookies and ask for "something orange that is not an orange." I am presented with six slices of a perfect nectarine, fanned on a doily atop a white plate. When I crave something salty, I am sent exactly seven sesame rice crackers (I find myself obsessively counting, which I attribute to the counting I am doing in the fitness classes).

Hoping to make a few healthful changes to my at-home dining, I meet with Ileen, who gives me a nutritional analysis after I fill out a typical two-day diary. She avoids "tsk-tsking" me (which I admit I seriously deserve,) but rather, takes an accurate read on my personality and career and makes suggestions I could truly implement back home. Everyone is so unfailing gracious and motivational it seems almost criminal to fall off the wagon once I depart. On my final day, I head to the boutique looking for the cookbook, but alas, it's sold out. I smile at the workout togs stitched with the phrase "blissfully unaware." I haven't even left the property and already I'm aware that Cal-a-Vie withdrawal has set in.

A former Navy brat who traveled and lived abroad extensively, Suzanne Wright is a fulltime, freelance writer based in Atlanta. She has written numerous travel, food and decor features for numerous international, national and regional publications. Her articles have appeared in Elite Traveler, Wine & Spirits, Veranda, Atlanta Magazine, The Tennessean, Atlanta Homes & Lifestyles, Piedmont Review, Charlotte Place, Where, On Magazine and others. A suitcase is always packed and her passport always up to date.

© 2006

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