When the subject is destination spas, the northeastern United States doesn’t jump immediately to mind. In the past decade, however, resort-quality spas have been proliferating in the region.
From time to time, Styled to a Tee will review golf and spa properties, especially those within two hours of New York City. The thinking, inspired by some personal circumstances, is that if part of the family (no gender bias here) is inexplicably not smitten with the glorious game of golf, then she can certainly be coaxed into a massage (more on that later) or one of the more exotic treatments prevalent at high-end spas.
TheSeaview Marriott Resort and Spais one such establishment. The resort, in Galloway, N.J., about 10 minutes from Atlantic City, covers 670 acres and boasts 36 holes of golf, six all-weather tennis courts, indoor and outdoor pool facilities, volleyball and basketball courts, and nature walking/jogging trails. It’s no small wonder they added an Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa in 2000 to round out their offerings and promote relaxation.
So the weekend of the Ryder Cup found me up Saturday morning at 7 a.m. — earlier than anyone should be rising unless you’re playing golf – and that was my plan but I was still grumpy. I felt I had gotten the short end of the stick when the brain trust at Styled to a Tee (Robert and I) had unwittingly chosen this date back in August and I was nominated to go because of something to do with his kids…and as I contemplated the two-hour drive to my destination near Atlantic City, I — meaning my body, soul and mind — would have preferred to be lodged in front of a television set rooting the Americans to victory at Valhalla (Did you count the amount of "I’s" in that run-on sentence? It’s always about me, me, me!).
All of that changed when I arrived at the resort. The receptionist, Lauren, greeted me with a 200-watt smile followed by a simple line: “How can I help you…checking in?” Nothing more, nothing less, but spoken with a kindness and sincerity that seem in short supply around bustling hotel reception desks these days.
The Seaview, with its white-pillared portico, four-floored Cape Cod look, rates as one of the "grand dame" resort hotels, dating from 1914. With wings and extensions spreading out in back, it has 278 rooms, 19 suites, 26 meeting rooms, and 27,000 square feet of total meeting space. Three brides could be given away here on a Saturday and a golfer might never know it.
While the property underwent extensive renovations after Marriott purchased it in 1984, it retains those wide hallways that developers nowadays cut in half to maximize square footage dedicated to guest rooms. The room we were given (I invited my girlfriend because I thought she’d enjoy the spa), “the best available, on the third floor overlooking the pool,” had ample space and was graciously appointed. The bathroom — and who among us doesn’t hold that as a top draw in hotel accommodations? — was, dare I say, large. However, the real treat (read: selling point) was also the centerpiece of the room: bed. I found that out quite quickly because upon suggesting to said girlfriend that we head over to check out the spa before my round, she, already under the covers, declined.
I repeat, when I suggested we go over to the spa, she declined. What could cause this aberration in the hierarchy of female desires? It’s this: She was too tired from a night of revelry with out-of-town family the evening before, and the Marriott bed features a nine-inch Jamison mattress with plush quilting on the top and sides, as well as a down comforter with duvet, lightweight down blanket and so-called "Down Surround" pillows. Marriott spent more than a year designing and testing the bed, and it definitely paid off. (Especially for me, as I had already factored several treatments into my budget for the weekend and I had "saved dollar signs" dancing in my head.)
So I went to theElizabeth Arden Red Door Spasolo (ferried by golf cart from the hotel), and found more grandeur and opulence. Cloaked in a 13,000-square-foot building, the Red Door, recipient of 2007’s Best Day Spa award from theAtlantic City Press, is a world-class health and beauty spa featuring a distinct and inviting array of spa and salon services. There are 20 treatment rooms for pampering pleasure, ranging from the tried-and-true facial skincare treatments; "mani’s and pedi’s"; waxing and the like, to more lavishly indulgent services like soothing aqua and aromatherapy, diverse massage offerings (I counted no less than 14 unique types), makeup artistry and, of course, half and full-day complete spa packages. But, alas, it was finally time for golf.
My first 18 was scheduled for The Pines course. Designed by Flynn & Toomey in 1929, this 6,730-yard course is carved from a thick forest of pines and oaks and is a narrow, rolling layout calling for accuracy off the tee. It features bentgrass throughout and has midsized greens — perfect for recreational players but protected by a number of bunkers that come into play if you’re approaching with longer irons because your playing from the back tees. One of my favorite holes is the demanding par-three sixth, fronted by a sandy wasteland that could pass for a hole at Pine Valley. Another gem is the par-five tenth. Measuring 480 yards from the "tips," it is reachable if you find the fairway, but invites big scores if you don’t.
My second round, scheduled for Sunday morning on the Bay Course at 8 a.m., did not go off as planned. I was startled to wake in the morning finding it was already 8:05 a.m., five minutes past my tee. It’s exceedingly rare for me to miss a tee time (and I’m usually on premises 45 minutes before, especially when I’m a guest), but I’m chalking it up to those Marriott beds. However, to my surprise, when I called the pro shop to learn my fate I was met with understanding and a suggestion to "just come on down, we will work you in soon." Kudos to head golf professional Kevin DeDonato’s staff for handling the situation with grace.
So I would get to play the Donald Ross-designed Bay course after all. The Bay, finished in 1915, is a stark and complete contrast to the Pines. It is a links-style layout fronting Reeds Bay with panoramic views of Atlantic City. While short in length at 6,250 yards from the back, when the prevailing winds are whipping off the bay and the morning dews of fall have contributed to the lushness of the rough, the course can be a bear.
I lost two balls on the opening hole, carding an 8. But the scenery of the second hole denied me from falling into a prolonged funk. It was 434 yards of visual pleasure overlooking the bay with Atlantic City beyond; a true postcard hole and possibly the distraction that led to my triple bogey 7. Yikes, I was a horrid seven-over after two. How can I write so glowingly about a course that I played so poorly? Well, that’s because my final score fit my 13.5 handicap to a tee. After carding a 49 on the front side (and considering the bottom of Reeds Bay might make a fitting resting place for my sticks), I finished strongly on the back, shooting 38. And isn’t it the way you end a round that always seems to linger in the mind?
Post golf, I had promised to take my loved one out for the Marriott’s "famous" Sunday Brunch. That is, if she finally got out of that damn bed. As a self-proclaimed connoisseur of the all-you-can-eat buffet, I was somewhat dubious heading into the meal. Surely here would be where the resort came up short. But I was surprised again. The selections that greeted us surpassed my New York-burnished expectations. (I’m a food snob.) All the usuals were there: fresh bagels/smoked salmon and garnish tray, the omelet station, breakfast pork every which way, but it also included some unexpected treats: fillet tips, Marriott’s "award-winning" clam chowder, and a ridiculous array of desserts. Oh yes, I shouldn’t forget free-flowing champagne.
With a simple request, we were granted a late check-out, which gave me one more chance to recline on that bed. En route to that ethereal pleasure I must have been day dreaming and took a wrong turn to my room. Momentarily disoriented, I was spotted by a hotel technician, who asked if he could be of help, "sir." Again, a simple offer, but delivered with such a sincere smile that I wanted to stay an extra day. But then I remembered for the first time that it was Ryder Cup Sunday, with lots of climactic golf and several AC casinos looking for my biannual deposit. Feeling cheated, I made the decision right then and there.
I would come back soon. — Rico Williams