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Seek solace, sister-girlfriend, in the time-honored tradition of jilted women everywhere: Place yourself in the skilled hands of masseurs and aestheticians. The Bacara Resort & Spa in Santa Barbara is the kind of place where you can sleep till noon, take a lazy (short) stroll along the bluffs overlooking the Pacific, then lounge around the pool for the rest of the day in a fluffy white robe and Jackie O.–style shades, poking at the gin-soaked olive in your martini glass. (Yes, alcohol’s allowed here, and this isn’t an occasion for austerity.)
Once you’ve drunk him off your mind, you can clear your head with crisp morning hikes through the adjoining 1,000-acre ranch; restorative yoga classes; water aerobics; outdoor chi gong in the shade of a eucalyptus tree; or the usual resort activities—golf, tennis, mountain biking, horseback riding. Spa treatments include an avocado-citrus body polish (the avocados and oranges are grown here) and the Bacara Body Melt (you’re gently exfoliated, then rubbed with warm essential oils and wrapped in a warm cocoon of blankets and Mylar while your scalp, neck, and shoulders are massaged).
Later, book a table at Miro and dine on California-French fare like roasted Maine lobster with fennel, black farfalle, fava beans, oven-dried tomatoes, and licorice jus. Then catch a movie in the 211-seat screening room, which Hollywood types often rent out for film premieres.
The immaculate white haciendas are set around courtyards filled with fresh bougainvillea. Many have working fireplaces and balconies that look out over the ocean. The bathrooms have wooden shutters that open up into the room. Lie in the tub, listen to the waves, and wonder what it was you ever saw in what’s-his-name in the first place.
Bacara Resort and Spa (877-422-4245, bacararesort.com; from $425).