I stepped from my casita and looked up into a night sky exploding with stars. They swirled and throbbed, so bright that I needed no flashlight to find my way. On the western horizon, Orion’s bow pointed me toward the open-air restaurant at Rancho Pescadero, while the Big Dipper hung low in the eastern sky. Even shy little Pleiades came out to gaze upon this amazing new resort near Todos Santos in Baja California, Mexico.

As a hosted guest of Rancho Pescadero Resort during a press trip, I expected the resort management to make every effort to welcome and impress me, but I did not expect to become a part of their family. From the moment I arrived everyone – from resort managers, Josh and Christine; to Danny the bartender; to Carla in the front office; to the night watchman, Angel; right down to the owner, Lisa Harper and her partner, George Lilinoe – adopted me. While I’d like to think that had something to do with my charming personality and wit, I must confess that during my stay, every guest received the same care and attention and this may be why, with only four months under their belt, the resort is already receiving repeat guests.

Pool with floating beds

Miles and miles of wide, pristine beach, backed with beach beds, lounge chairs and fire pits

If a caring staff is not enough to entice you to visit Rancho Pescadero, the facilities will win you over. From the central reception and open-air restaurant, guests descend to suites, which arc toward a pommeling ocean in a sweeping semi-circle that enfolds a poolside bar, whirlpool spa, and gorgeous pool with floating beds. By day, sand paths lead over a low dune past tall cactus to miles of pristine, windswept beach, where long walks, fishing, or surfing are the order of the day. Not into physical activity? Luxuriate in one of the resort’s dunetop beach beds, roofed wood frames with a mattress and curtains that can be drawn if the sun gets too intense, or make an appointment for a treatment at the oceanfront spa cottage. After dark, barrel chairs surrounding a firepit encourage flame gazing or more star gazing. Read the rest of this entry »

After dinner, I stopped in the lobby to arrange for a 7:30 a.m wake up call the following morning.

“We’ll be happy to do that, Ms. Weibel, and would you like a follow-up call 15 minutes later?” asked the woman behind the front desk.

My jaw dropped open. I have always wondered why hotels don’t offer this service. Turns out I was just staying at the wrong hotels; at the Ritz-Carlton in Palm Beach Florida, multiple wake-up calls are standard operating procedure.

Oceanfront pool at the Ritz-Carlton Palm Beach

I had been invited to stay at the Ritz in preparation for writing a review about the property. Because the resort has earned the prestigious AAA Five Diamond and Mobil Five Star awards, I knew I was in for a treat. But I was also apprehensive. When I abandoned my corporate life three years ago, I traded my stressed-out life of luxury for a happier, albeit poorer existence. My wardrobe these days consists mostly of khakis and, since a laptop is an absolute necessity, I carry a backpack rather than a purse. My only other stay at a Ritz-Carlton had occurred some 15 years earlier, at a property with an extremely formal atmosphere where dressing for dinner was a requirement. I worried about being under-dressed, unaccepted, and judged this time around. Read the rest of this entry »

Exquisite lobby of Chicago's Palmer House

The seeds of my love affair with Chicago’s Palmer House were sown back in 1969. An anxious and giddy teenager, I was thrilled that the famous hotel had been chosen for my senior prom. I vividly recall stepping into the opulent lobby, with its Tiffany 24-karat gold chandeliers, majestic “Winged Angels” (the largest bronze statues ever made by Tiffany), and its magnificent domed ceiling painted with Grecian frescoes. I was the ugly duckling, suddenly become a lovely swan. I was Cinderella. My handsome, tux-clad prince offered his arm as we promenaded through the glittering lobby and up the staircase to the ballroom, where we danced the night away.

Although I no longer live in Chicago, I recently attended a conference in the Loop and spent a few extra days in the city. Memories came flooding back one afternoon when I turned a corner and found myself in front of the Palmer House. I stood on the sidewalk, debating whether or not to go inside. Perhaps it would be best to remember it the way it was on that fairy-tale night. But the temptation to revisit my past was too strong; I stepped through the front entrance and mounted the stairs to the lobby. And just like that I was 17 again, rendered speechless by the exquisite surroundings.