Indian Springs Spa

I have not-too-surprising confession: I love being pampered.

I used to think that spas were waste of money. A frugal Asian upbringing combined with equal parts being a tomboy and being plain poor influenced me growing up. Then I went for my first massage, courtesy of a gift certificate. Wow. From then on it was downhill for me; body scrubs, deep tissue massages, pedicures, manicures, actual salon haircuts instead of Supercuts...things that would horrify my mother with how much they cost and level of decadence.

Let me tell you though, massages and pampering are nice. Being good to yourself really makes you feel…good. It isn’t all about looking better although a pedicure will bring my toes from ugly straight to cute; it’s about taking care of yourself and liking yourself enough to know that you deserve it. And if you can get a lot of girlfriends to go with you to a spa day, so much the better.

Which leads me to the most perfect day in recent memory. – a trip to Indian Springs Spa in Calistoga to celebrate DJ’s recent graduation from Berkeley with Masters in Public Policy. (We wouldn’t be good friends if we let her go alone!) Calistoga is renowned for mud baths, mineral baths, and hot springs; Indian Springs features lovely spa treatments in addition to an Olympic sized swimming pool fed by said hot springs.

Maybe it was overeagerness on our part, but my roommates and I arrived in Napa about two hours early. But happily that meant we had plenty of time to load up on goodies from Bouchon Bakery. (Speaking of decadent. Thomas Keller decides he needs bread for French Laundry and just opens a bakery?) A beautiful bakery has the effect of reducing me to near tears, and my brain to quivering mush because it’s just so pretty and I want to eat everything. And the early hour (arriving at 8 am at Bouchon!) with insufficient coffee perhaps confused us further resulting in our buying enough pastries to feed our friends x3. But who could say no to glazed fruit tarts, pecan sticky buns, and éclairs? Stronger women than us have tried and failed. (That’s a lie. No one truly tries to resist!)

Once at Indian Springs, we settled in by the pool to snack (gorge) on baked goods, relax, and await our mud baths.

About those mud baths. There’s nothing like unexpected communal nudity to bring you and your friends closer together. I had been expecting a private or semi-private room with slate tile floors, candles, and darkness. But of course, this is mud we’re talking about. The attendants led pairs of us in turn to a white industrial shower room and proceeded to:

1. strip us of our bathrobes
2. rinse us
3. help us into the mud baths and cover us with mud
4. help us out
5. rinse us again
6. drop us into mineral baths
7. and then herd us to the steam room.

If it sounds a little disconcerting, it was – especially in not knowing what to expect and having a friend pop her head out of the shower to giggle “You’re naked!” (Thanks, DJ. You gave me a heart attack.)

Mud also gets…in places. It was a sticky, gooey experience, but really quite fun! I went off on a teeny fantasy about being a dinosaur in the La Brea tar pits after, but basically stopped thinking after being soaked and steamed to emerge wobbly legged and very VERY relaxed. Nothing going on in my brain after that! Just in time for soaking up some sun by the pool.

All in all, a perfect day. Spas might be an occasional splurge but all I can say is – decadence, come on over.

Here’s a link to pics from day:
http://picasaweb.google.com/cheungd/IndianSprings2009#