Spa D'Etat: The Fairmont, Newport Beach, California

Forsaking the far-flung spas of yore, Kevin Raub attempts a visit to The O.C.

By Kevin Raub
Published: Dec 01, 2007

Curiosity often gets the best of me. It hasn't killed me yet, but I suppose I've only just barely squeezed by a few times throughout my world travels. So I decided to stay close to home for once and check out a spa within 100 miles of Los Angeles, somewhere I couldn't apply the 100-Mile Rule in an effort to keep my newly married self in check. So I headed to Newport Beach. No excuses.

Still, it's curiosity that has led me here. The Fairmont Newport Beach, fresh off a $32 million makeover ($2.5 of which was pumped into the new 8,000-sq-foot Willow Stream Spa) is dropping some significant marketing dollars on its new do-it-yourself spa treatment, the U. Room. Do it myself? I don't think so. The entire point of a spa treatment is to be pampered needlessly or nurtured optimistically (whichever the case may be) by the hands of another, preferably attractive (though it rarely turns out that way) human being. Still, I had to check it out, but I booked an Eco-Chic massage to follow, just in case the concept worked about as well as my glass-half-empty expectations of it did.

I was immediately gutted on arrival when I realized there was no beach to speak of at the Fairmont Newport Beach, it's eight miles away. What's that about? Pretty much just false advertising, that's what. But there was a Nordstrom's much closer, so bygones. The hotel is somewhat of an architectural marvel that breaks up the suburban nightmare known as the O.C., with its 15-story bank and insurance beacons of glass and concrete dotting the horizon. Don't get me wrong. There's glass and concrete here, too, but there's only 10 stories and they are stacked on top of each other in a much more interesting manner, like something pre-Hispanic, sort of.

The new Willow Stream Spa, Fairmont's signature spa brand, is tastefully decorated in a soothing, masculine manner, as most spas seem to be. The co-ed relaxation room's spread is made up of flaxseed muffins and the hotel's apparently famous Strawberry Orange juice. Nice. A nice enough gentlemen calls me in for my U. Room treatment, which comes in five variations: Stress Free, Recovery, Detox, Muscle Relief, and International Inspiration. I chose Recovery. All this travel wears me out.

The problems with the treatment are immediate and generous. My host doesn’t speak much English, so I have to rely on the rather cryptic, typed-instructions that more or less told me to rub the oil (one designed to combat jet lag, made of geranium, peppermint, and rosemary essential oils) on my body and the serum (calendula, elder, German chamomile, lavender, rose hips and aloe vera) on my face, then take a steam followed by a whirlpool bath, all in my own little private room. That sounds great, but the concoctions aren't labeled, so I'm not sure which is the oil and which is the serum (is there a difference?). Further, my host didn't warm up the stream room in advance, so the first 10-minutes of my treatment are spent waiting for the steam to actually produce some. When it finally does, it's none too warm, so I abandoned the idea after five fruitless minutes. Note to spa: Warm up the steam room.

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