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CALIFORNIA
BIG SUR
VENTANA INN & SPA
I have been privileged to visit many of the world’s great hotels. But there is one – in that folder of my mental filing cabinet labelled ‘The Countryside’ – which occupies a special place in my affections. It does so because it offers me a seemingly impossible combination: perfect harmony with nature together with absolute luxury. I am therefore able to feel at one with my natural surroundings without the slightest fear of discomfort. This heavenly joy brought down to earth I find at the wonderful Ventana Inn & Spa.
150 miles south of San Francisco lies a stretch of dramatic coastline called Big Sur. Its wild and unspoilt beauty has attracted many members of the artistic community over the years. When Lawrence Spector made huge profits from his production of the film EasyRider, he decided to invest them here. In 1975 – on an estate of 243 acres, 1200 feet above the Pacific – he built Ventana. Its name is appropriate, for ‘ventana’ means ‘window’ in Spanish, and this property enjoys some of the most spectacular views in California. And it does so in a most unselfish way – for, remarkably, its buildings of weathered cedar appear part of their surroundings, almost as if they had grown organically out of the hillside.
As soon as I turned off Highway One by the Ventana sign on my most recent visit, I began to feel at ease and the cares of the world began to slip away. The car parked, I was transported up to Reception in a golf cart. (These handy little machines are used to whisk folk hither and thither around the estate.) My fellow guests were already beginning to enjoy the complimentary cheese and wine, laid out every afternoon in the lobby. Then, my check-in speedily completed, it was on to my apartment.
Room number 2 is a ‘Vista suite with hot tub’ ($700 to $1155, including breakfast, according to season). I present for your interest a picture of your correspondent sitting next to the latter. This hot tub was precisely that: a tub constantly full of hot water. It was situated on my private deck, overlooking the countryside. You will note that I am sitting in a wicker armchair and that I am reading. But, had the inclination come upon me, at any moment I could have had a dip in the warm waters. This was but one of the many joys offered by this accommodation.
As soon as I walked in, I appreciated the sense of space and proportion. The illustration provides some idea of the welcoming warmth of the cedar wood. Note the fireplace (at which I spent many a happy hour burning logs), the four-poster bed (which proved supremely comfortable) and the leather armchairs (in which I sat, gazing over the wooded valley as the 40th symphony of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart played on the cd machine). With the spotlights dimmed and the air-conditioning set to my liking, here I experienced the delicious feeling of being far away from everything, while knowing that a regiment of efficient and friendly members of staff was waiting at the end of the telephone line to cater to my every whim.
 I must pay a particular tribute to the bathroom. Its entrance (pictured) was near majestic. Its two wash basins, walk-in shower and separate loo were admirable. But, best of all, was the bath tub – raised up, so that I could look out at the redwood trees and at the vast blue sky as I soaked my ageing limbs.
Such bathing was as close to physical excercize as I came at Ventana, for I am not given to the sin of activity. For those who desire them, the Inn offers photography, painting, cooking, bird watching, hiking, mushroom hunting, numerous spa treatments and the delights of its “clothing optional” Japanese hot baths.
Ventana’s excellent General Manager, Paul O’Dowd, is to be congratulated on maintaining the Inn’s atmosphere of exclusive isolation. Mobile telephones are banned from the dining room. (Three cheers!) And (another rousing cheer!) parents, if they have to bring their children, are given the stern admonition: “Do not let them engage in noisy games or horseplay.” The resultant atmosphere of quiet calm is a tonic for the mind and medicine for the soul. I have lost count of how many hotel breakfasts have been ruined for me by mobile telephones and/or noisy children. At Ventana the breaking of my fast was done on the terrace of the library, just past the swimming pool (pictured). Here I tucked into plates of cold roast beef, dishes of melon and strawberries and chunks of soft lemon cake, washed down with mugs of hot coffee. And all was peace, perfect peace.
In the evenings I walked to the lobby and was taken thence in the shuttle ‘bus to the restaurant. Here the greeting was from the friendly Restaurant Manager, Matt Fisher. Flickering candles, heavy beams and high roofs give this large building the air of a modest cathedral. I found it pleasing – as I did the white damask on the large tables and the high quality glassware (a mixture of Riedel and Spiegelau). Napkins were replaced and the waiters wore blue shirts. My own waiter, Paco, was so jolly he could have smiled for California. He looked after me very well indeed.
Chef Anthony Calamari (pictured) proved a most engaging fellow, full of culinary enthusiasm. He describes his cuisine as ‘Mediterranean’, a description with which I am happy to concur. His food afforded me much enjoyment. If there is a tendency to over-elaboration in some of his dishes, there is no disguising the serious talent at work here. With more simplicity, this good chef might well turn into a great chef. Meanwhile, let me praise a watercress salad with baby beets and balsamic vinegar (full of bright tastes), another salad of lettuce, cheese, herbs, caramelized almonds and radishes (made special by a brilliant sherry vinaigrette), roasted baby chicken with a garlic and white wine sauce (flavours and textures spot-on) and a superbly luscious tiramisu. (Allow $70-$75 for four courses from the carte. A four-course set menu is available at $65.)
Prices on the wine list range from $24 for a white zinfandel from San Luis Obispo County to $1,100 for the 1990 DRC Richebourg. There are some interesting ‘foreigners’ – like 1989 Krug champagne ($295), 2005 Cloudy Bay sauvignon blanc from New Zealand ($49) and 1992 Grange from Australia ($350) – but California supplies most of the bottles. The cellar is particularly strong in cabernet and Bordeaux blends – with 7 vintages of Opus One (the 1996 is $355), 1991 Grace Family Cabernet ($475), 2002 Joseph Phelps ‘Insignia’ ($335) and 1997 Peter Michael ‘Les Pavots’ ($255).
My own drinking included two top class Californian chardonnays: the very creamy, smooth and luscious 2002 Newton unfiltered, from St Helena in the Napa Valley ($105), and the elegant, less creamy 2003 Dumol ‘Chloe’ from the Sonoma Valley ($115). The 2000 Silver Oak, Alexander Valley, Sonoma County cabernet sauvignon ($125) was beautifully structured with oodles of ripe black fruit and the 2002 Hirsch Estate, Sonoma Coast pinot noir ($120) was earthy in the nose and then hot and powerful in the mouth. Each of these wines was recommended by my waiter, Paco, and each made fine drinking.
I emerged from Ventana refreshed and full of beans. If you are looking for a luxurious retreat, where you can be nourished by natural beauty and relax in splendid comfort, this is the place for you. Ventana remains, triumphantly, one of my favourite hotels in the world.
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