paradise found; Hopscotch, fly-fishing, and a midnight snack.

Byline: Marina Rust

Above and Beyond," promises the Web site, which my friend Schuyler and I check out before agreeing to a spa retreat in the Connecticut countryside. Between the two of us, we've fled six well-known spas. "A vacation's not a vacation if it's not as nice as where you already live," says Schuyler. "And why do they always have to be in the desert?" That's what Adriana Mnuchin and her daughter Lisa Hedley thought. The Mnuchins already owned Washington, Connecticut's, historic Mayflower Inn, a stately five-star destination for romantic country weekends and boarding school graduations. Mother and daughter had for years visited spas before they decided to add one to their property two hours outside Manhattan. At the Mayflower, I was told, everything that made me spa-phobic has been eliminated: no airplanes, no hunger pangs; accommodations are luxurious. Everything was included: facials, private tennis lessons, everything. No need to feel guilty about booking a massage. The price? Roughly the same as the Ashram. "And at the Ashram, they barely feed you," points out Schuyler.

The five-day, women-only program accommodates just 28 guests. Spa director Helen Brown calls the week before to discuss our goals and preferences. Schuyler wants to try new things: She's excited about kayaking, fly-fishing, and archery. I want to try new things, too, specifically Thai massage, hot-stone massage, and lymphatic drainage. Brown mentions how people love the kayaking. "First you bike up to the site. . . ." I can't ride a bike, I say, relieved I don't have to go kayaking. "Would you like to learn?" They arrange a bike-riding lesson for me. "Any dietary concerns or needs?" I do like to eat in the middle of the night. "What do you like to eat then?" A pork chop. Or yogurt.

SUNDAY

Things turn green and hilly as we drive through arcades of ancient shade trees. Schuyler loses cell-phone reception, which she decides is a good thing. We are totally excited. We are shown to our pretty, well-

appointed rooms. There are thoughtful touches: books that appear to be chosen just for us, macs and umbrellas in case of rain, Frette linens. Packing was easy, as the spa provides buff cotton warm-ups. We take a tour of the stunning new 20,000-square-foot spa, probably the only spa in America with a de Kooning. The pool has a view of a field and forest straight out of Narnia. There's something called the thermal sanctuary, sort of a New Age Moorish bathhouse with a music and light show. The treatment rooms are bigger than my first apartment. We join the other guests for stretch-and-release class. I recognize a few faces from Manhattan, or book-jacket photos.

First glance at the dinner menu, I am concerned. Grains and locally raised organics headline each offering. "Millet polenta with Swiss-chard bundles" sounds like deprivation until I see there is chicken involved. "Lobster quinoa with grilled asparagus, pan-seared sea scallops, and truffle corn coulis"? It is as delicious as it sounds. "Spa pours" of wine are available. Dessert? Lavender creme brulee or chocolate mousse (50 and 60 calories, respectively, but no one's counting). "And would you like a ...