1% Travel Guide: Palm Springs

By Playboy.com Staff

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We take a well deserved rest at the exclusive Rancho Las Palmas Resort & Spa in California.


Welcome to the 1% Travel Guide, your bible of the most tricked-out, exclusive destinations that money can buy.

Living paycheck to paycheck is not easy. When you get to the point where you need to reschedule your children’s birthdays for months down the road in order to afford them, you know you’ve hit a rough patch financially. This morning began like any other: feed the devils, lecture your wife on her overspending of your quickly diminishing credit card funds, and get on the road in your rusting hunk of junk for yet another day of door-to-door furry handcuff sales.

Despite your initial hesitancy in taking this job 20 years ago, the pay has been consistent if not moderately improving, with increased sales, somewhat disturbingly, and higher interest from the boomer generation, who have taken random talk show hosts’ advice and started to get their game on later in life. While you’d expect that from guys like Hugh Hefner and his Playmate of the Month, you’re scarred for life when you deliver a supersized order to a guy who happens to be dating your sister. You really need to get out of this business…

One night after arriving home, you receive a call from the legal estate of your Great Aunt Muffy, who recently passed away. You’re asked to attend a reading of the will the following day as you’ve apparently been listed. You recall that big old Muff was nothing more than an old widow who your family would visit every summer at her modest ranch in Texas. Nothing special — but why were you called? Your question is answered the next morning as it turns out that not only did Muffy have the ranch house, but also had been sitting on one of the largest untapped oil reserves in the state. Something she had apparently discovered years ago and sold the rights to once she had passed. You ask, “So what now?” With a laugh, the suit replies, “Well man, you’re kind of rich — very rich.” Seeing your quizzical face, he continues. “Son, you’ve just inherited approximately $100 million. You’ll receive the majority in a few weeks, but here’s a check to get you started.”

Arriving home, mesmerized by the number of zeros on the slip of gold-trimmed paper in front of you, you show your wife, who goes ballistic. Assuming your working days are now behind you, the idea of a vacation presents itself. Although you’ve always wondered what the world outside the American South looks like, you’ll have to work up to the places you see in passing on the cover of Condé Nast Traveler. However, you think a good start would be to get a taste of the life at one of the resorts out west that your wife always is yammering on about, that the celebrities visit.

Leaving the dangerous choice to her, you touch down in California two days later on your way to the summer playground of the rich and famous: Palm Springs. Entering through the gates of the exclusive Rancho Las Palmas resort, the classic Spanish stylings and desert ambiance is cool and chic, making you feel like you’ve been transported outside the country. This is going to be one hell of a vacation.

Seeing that money is no longer a worry, your wife has booked you in for ten consecutive nights of the resort’s “Off-the-Menu” package. Accommodation and in-room truffle service, a four-course signature chef’s dinner each night at the upscale bluEmber restaurant on site and service fees.

While your wife’s days are spent exploring a “spa journey,” you decide to indulge in a journey yourself — via inner tube, of course, as you wind down the resort’s lazy river canal. As you casually observe the local female celebrity wildlife in their natural habitat, you get a nice splash and realize your tube has wandered into hostile waters in the family side of the Splashtopia water park. Seeking refuge, you head for the tranquility side, where you accept a signature cocktail and watch the sun retreat from the comfort of the hot tub. After getting pulled away from watching sports in the R Bar following dinner, your wife guides you over to a golf cart parked at the entrance. Over your protests that you don’t think they offer nighttime golf and that you have a tee-time the next morning, you’re driven across the lot to where a group of carts have lined up. Turns out, drive-in movies don’t always need a car!

As you relax the rest of your week away, your mind ventures to your next locale. Europe? Asia? Your bucket list is long, but with the means to accomplish it now, the question is no longer “if” or “how,” it’s just a matter of when: Just another entry on the 1% Travel Guide.

Check out more at www.rancholaspalmas.com


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