I Swear I Saw Virginia Madsen in the Spa: Bacara Resort

     


I ask Brian, the regional sales manager hosting me, where the name Bacara comes from: "Its a mash-up really, between the Santa Clarita Islands out in the channel and Santa Barbara."

I had arrived at Bacara Resort in a rental car about an hour before. I drove through a barrel-vaulted gate and into a cloister of a courtyard where a nice young valet took my keys and informed me overnight parking costs $24 dollars.

On the way to my room in a golf cart I spoke with the bellboy. He has been employed for two years while finishing his degree at UC Santa Barbara. He's quitting next week to pursue his dream of  bumming around Australia for a year.

In my room, I was welcomed by a sales kit,  the cover of which shows a woman lounging on a pool chair. She's wearing a loosely-draped bathrobe, with no bikini top. I looked out my window at the ocean and the the private balconies next to mine. Topless, and a tad leathery, my fifty-year old neighbor seemed to have drawn inspiration from the sales kit, as she sat playing cards with her partner.

This is not your grandma's hacienda-style resort. It's fresh, it's stylish, and the bath products are organically amazing.

Bacara is also monastically quiet.

In my opinion, the only thing interrupting Bacara's tranquility, is a series of notes similar to the kind you might find in a roach motel.

Note 1 in my guestroom: "Dear Guest, Please do not remove candles from this silver tray. Should the tray turn up missing upon check-out, your account will be charged $138 USD."

Note 2 in the spa locker room: "Dear Guest, Please return your bathrobe and slippers to the spa attendant. If these items are not accounted for, your account will be charged $200 at check-out."

Bacara is a 5-Star Resort. Would anyone staying at a place like this think silver trays and bathrobes are free? It's tacky. But maybe on a positive note, it's also a little small town.

I could also just be oversensitive. As we were touring the spa, I swear I saw Virginia Madsen lounging in the pre-treatment area. The notes don't seem to bother her.