Man at the Spa!

My idea of exercise is bicycling to the ice-cream parlor. I view abbreviations like “abs” and “carbs” as contortions of the lexicon by people who would have the temerity to suggest that chocolate isn’t good for me. But if at first I found the idea of a week at a famously low-key health spa about as appealing as a slice of tofu pizza, I am old enough to realize that I have been spending perhaps too much time with my friends Baskin and Robbins. When it comes to spas, Rancho la Puerta in Baja, Calif., is the real deal. One of its cofounders, Edmund Szekely, was part of a French scientific mission in the late 1930s that roamed the globe to document the effects of climate on health. Convinced that the enviably moderate weather of San Diego and tiny Tecate, Mexico, just 45 minutes east of it, was the world’s finest – and not exactly eager to race back to France at that particular point in history – he established Rancho la Puerta in 1940 with his wife, Deborah. Mrs. Szekely, now 83 and a lodestar in the fitness firmament, still plays an active role in the life of the ranch. Her domain is a vast one, stretching over 575 acres at the foot of Mount Kuchumaa, which straddles the California-Mexico border. Virgin stands of oak trees alternate with lushly landscaped gardens that provide an Edenic counterpoint to the chaparral-covered hills all around. Paved paths connect various fitness and health buildings with the cottages and villa suites that serve as accommodation for up to 150 guests weekly. I found the most intriguing aspect of the place to be on the one hand the inevitability of getting lost and on the other the certainty of ending up at a pavilion where an activity demanding temporary suspension of decadent dietary ways and, very probably, physical exertion was in progress.