Esperanza - Even Better Than Sandals

"What the world needs now, is love, sweet love," my husband taunted me, imitating the Sandals commercial. Vacations don't get cheesier than the all-inclusive resort designed for couples to sip tropical concoctions while standing on a balcony overlooking the ocean in matching terrycloth robes. But admittedly, there is something about the idea of it that I like.

Feeling the chill of another Brooklyn winter, we decided against all-inclusive and instead hopped a plane bound for Cabo San Lucas. Our first stop was the picturesque Pueblo Bonito Sunset Beach. A large resort overlooking the ocean, noisy golf carts driven by the staff shuttled guests around the property. Being New Yorkers and partial to walking, we quickly realized that not riding in the carts en route to the restaurant or lobby meant dodging them as they careened around corners at breakneck speed. Further excitement was added when, during some husband and wife time, a maid opened the door, eager to deliver a missing remote for the TV.

Immediately, I started shouting every word in Spanish that I had learned from the back of Fodor's Mexico. "No! No! Firma la puerta! Uno bocadillo!" I yelled. "You just told her to sign the door and bring you a sandwich!" my husband explained to me. Finally, she got the idea and closed the door. The moment was lost, but not for long...

Next on our adventure was the Esperanza Resort. This is the place where Gwyneth Paltrow and her husband from that pretentious band honeymooned. The resort oozed exclusivity, from the hammock on our balcony overlooking the Sea of Cortex to the plush terrycloth robes (yes!) waiting in the bathroom, which was the size of a typical studio apartment in Manhattan. Before we could go check out the pool, delicious margaritas were brought to the room with chips and a variety of exotic salsas, which we consumed on the balcony. Each time we returned to our room, there was another surprise waiting for us - from a platter of sushi to chocolates, and smooth jazz playing on the entertainment center.

Gwyneth may not know what she's talking about when it comes to good food, but the woman does know how to pick a great vacation spot.

Vital Fun at Hotel Vitale

You never really need an excuse for a girls' weekend, but when our friend was stationed out in San Francisco for a job, my girls and I knew we had to go out there to visit her. Upon arrival, we checked into the modern and luxurious Hotel Vitale. The hopping after-work scene in the first floor lounge indicated to us that this place provided a glittering nightlife in addition to Zen-inspired lodging.

After two days of luxuriating in the sanctuary of the hotel's sunken bathtubs and gallivanting on the rooftop deck, we were ready for a dirtier brand of fun. There was nothing left to do but head out to Napa Valley, get naked and have fertilizer spread all over our bodies.

None of us had ever had a mud bath before, so we had no idea what to expect. When we arrived at the spa, we were told to strip down and put on toga-like sheets. Having expected to find an earthy and tranquil setting similar to the one we'd been experiencing at the Hotel Vitale, we were surprised to enter a room that looked more like a girls' locker room, circa 1950. A sulfuric stench greeted us and three not-so-inviting pink tiled bathtubs waited for us, bubbling over with hot mud. Unceremoniously, we dropped our sheets (and any shred of modesty) and slid into the steaming piles of brown as three stout attendants slapped layers of dirt on us until the only things showing were our shower-capped heads. After fifteen sweltering minutes, we slowly pulled our limbs out of the pit and into a communal shower.

"You wash good!" the attendants insisted as they circled the showers, observing our rinse-off. And there I had thought I was perfectly capable of removing the mud from my own butt crack!

We weren't sure if the mud bath had made our skin any smoother, but it was definitely a bonding experience.