My wife and I never knew how fulfilling a resort stay could be.
My wife, Lara, and I checked into a beautiful, very expensive country resort in Vermont. It was late Spring, and the grounds were covered with blossoming bushes. We were there for what we hoped would be a really romantic three-day weekend.
We reserved a ground-floor room on the mountain side of the resort. Those rooms had small patios instead of balconies like the upper stories. The bellman, Norm, showed us the sliding glass door to the patio, and said to keep it locked when we weren't in the room. He explained that the opening in the hedge that partially shielded the patio was designed so that we not only had a view of the mountain, but also had direct access to the hiking trails that linked the three resorts in the area.
"Occasionally hikers use the benches in the resort's patios to rest for a moment if the adjacent rooms look unoccupied. We haven't had any problems with people doing so, as the trail is privately owned by the three resorts, and our clientele tended to be very upscale. I recommend being as safe as possible, though."
He clicked the lock and said, "You know. Just in case."
Norm showed us the maps of the trails, and explained that between the three resorts there were several really great restaurants along with some casual ones.
"We already have a reservation at
Jefferey's,"
I said.
"Excellent!" he replied. "It's probably the best one. Try the dessert chef's new creation, the spiced pears.
Pointing to the check-in package I had tossed on the coffee table, Norm said, "Did they explain your Resort Card at the front desk?"
Pulling the blue and green cards from the check-in package I said, "Well, they said they were our room keys and could be used to charge things like meals and stuff from the convenience store."
"They're more than that," the Norm said proudly. "You can use them for the spa, and they work the gate at the pool and the door to the Fitness Center. Your card will open the garage gate, too. Did you know that all three of the mountain resorts have reciprocal agreements?"
"No. What sort?"
"Your Resort Card will let you pass from one property to the other, and you can even use it at the restaurants at the other two resorts. You use the pools there, too. It is your key and your resort ID. The resorts are designed so that you can hike all day without having to go to your home resort. When you feel like eating or taking a cool dip, you can go to the nearest one and use the amenities. We get as many of their guests as they get ours, so everything works out evenly.
"We just ask that you bring your own swim attire. Towels and everything else are provided at each pool and changing room."
Lara said, "I'm lovin' this already!"
We tipped the Norm and decided to relax.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon at the pool, and then came back to the room for a shower. We sat in the patio with some cold sodas until it was time to dress for dinner. The patio had two benches with a table between them. We sat together on the bench facing the opening in the hedge and spent an enjoyable half hour looking at the mountain and saying hello to the passers-by on the trail.
We looked at the trail maps in the check-in package and planned a couple of hikes. We are both in our mid forties. We're not terribly athletic, but we can both walk a country trail for hours without getting exhausted. One of the reasons we picked this hotel was do a little hiking.
It was getting towards dinner time, so we started to dress.
Lara put on a simple black dress with a pearl necklace. As she put on the necklace, she winked. I smiled, knowingly, but that is for later in this tale.
Lara's 30B bust line and full hips were accentuated by the pencil dress, and her legs by the three inch high heels. With them, her 5'5" frame was about three inches shorter than me. Beth's brunette hair came down just over her shoulders and nicely framed her delicate neck and deep cleavage.
I looked into her soft, brown eyes and said, "Sweetie, you are still the sexiest woman I have ever seen."
She said, "And you are the hunkiest hunk I have ever seen."
"'Hunkiest hunk?'" I said. "Talk about breaking the mood of a tender moment!"
"Your flattery caught me by surprise, Honey. It was the first thing that popped into my head," she said sheepishly.
"I got something I can pop in your head after dinner," I leered.
I had put on my sport coat and slacks by then.
Lara said, "'Pop' my ass. Put on your tie and let's go. I'm hungry,
hunk
."
I laughed as I put on my tie and we left for dinner.
Jefferey's
, the resort's famous steakhouse, was owned by Chef Jefferey Whittenstone. He was not only a world-class chef and master of all things meat, but he was known for being one of the most demanding chefs in the business. His pastry and dessert chefs had to be among the finest in the industry, and he expected them to constantly create new sensations.
We were a little early, so we sat in the lounge and had a drink. Lara had a martini, and I had a single malt scotch, Glendronach 15-year-old.
The meal was incredible, and so was the wine we ordered with it.
The steaks were nothing short of sensuous! My ribeye was cooked to medium rare perfection. Its dry-aged flavor was as good as I had ever experienced, and it was so tender that I didn't need a steak knife to cut it.
Lara's filet was juicy and tender to a fault. She teased me with a bite when she held out a morsel on the end of her fork. As I tried to bite it, she moved it back just a little. When I stopped to figure out what her game was, she slowly touched the piece of steak to my upper lip and coated it with its juice.
She pulled the fork back a little, saying, "Taste the juice before you bite into the steak."
I ran my tongue over my lip as instructed.
"Incredible! The smoke from the grill, the fatty juice from the meat and the light touch of seasoning are all there in one simple lick."
She put the fork back to my mouth, and I took the morsel with my teeth.
"Oh," I sighed. "Mine is great. Yours is even better."
Every bit of the meal was that good. The asparagus with Béarnaise sauce, the mushrooms sautéed in marsala, and the fresh-baked French bread with sweet butter were all sheer perfection. We expected good food, but that meal was one of those rare ones where everything is so good that you wish you could lick the plate.
We don't normally drink very much. The wine was so well paired with our steaks, though, that we finished the whole bottle in spite of our pre-dinner drinks.
The spiced pear desert that Lara ordered at our Norm's suggestion involved spiced pears poached in cream and rum over house-made vanilla ice cream.
"Wow! He really knew what he was talking about," she said. "Sam, this is finger-licking good."
To prove the point, she scooped up a finger-full of the sauce and held it out for me to taste.
Normally that would have been out of place for us, especially in an elegant restaurant. The pre-dinner cocktails and the wine had gotten to both of us a little, and I leaned over and sucked the sauce off her finger. It was fantastic!
I leaned a little closer to her and whispered, "I would like to get a pint of the sauce to go so I can lick it off a little more than your finger."
She smiled and whispered back, "There are a few 'licking places' I have in mind for starters."
I used my Resort Card to pay for the meal, and we headed back to our room.
