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Blame it on the margaritas and Cinco de Mayo bashes, but this time of year always has us yearning for a seaside escape to Mexico. Fortunately, like-minded Corona sipper and actress Rhian Rees has just returned from Cabo with reports of humpback whales and poolside bars to tide us over until we can plan our own breezy Baja California trip. Additionally, Ivy Ackerman, the brains behind culinary events company Butter and Egg Road, recently got in touch with her inner kid while visiting Palm Springs, and travel writer and editor Sarah Jappy found inspiration for a penne-scented perfume in Rome (we think she’s onto something). Here are the latest stories from our fellow hotel lovers…

The Resort at Pedregal, Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

Rhian exploring the grounds at the Resort at Pedregal; photo by Max Knight

Rhian Rees takes a cue from the local wildlife at The Resort at Pedregal in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

Our personal concierge Victoria gives us a short brief on the property; however, it’s difficult to pay attention when there are humpback whales dancing across the distant horizon. My excitement is less than discreet; ‘don’t worry, there are binoculars in your room’ Victoria adds. Some quick paperwork later and we are exploring our Deluxe Ocean View Suite with its most impressive, private infinity plunge pool on our balcony and a free bottle of local mezcal. While Mr Smith tests out the rainfall shower, I fawn over the Otomi-print cushion cover and totem folk art beside the bed.

Soon it’s 4pm, and unbeknownst to us this means free Coronas delivered in an ice bucket with chips, guacamole and salsa. It seems the Resort at Pedregal already knows us too well; soon enough we are reclining, sated, like humpbacks ourselves.

One thing to note, the sea is strictly for admiring. Strong undercurrents render it off-limits for even the most adventurous swimmers. Not that it matters to us as we splash around in one of the four infinity pools onsite. There is something quite exhilarating about being in a calm body of warm water a few feet from the crunching shoreline. ‘This is alright,’ Mr Smith beams as he wades back to the bar. Read more…

L'Horizon hotel, Palm Springs, California

Breakfast at L’Horizon Resort and Spa certainly tops any mess hall

Ivy Ackerman is a happy camper at L’Horizon Resort & Spa in Palm Springs, California

When was the last time I sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows? Around 20 years ago? 15? When was my last year at sleepaway camp? This lapse in memory was nagging me as I sandwiched my perfectly-toasted trophy between two Graham crackers, but it too was soon forgotten as I bit into my s’more.

I looked up at the desert’s night sky, my favourite childhood dessert in hand, and marvelled at my luck. Here I was, reliving my summer-camp days, but this time – instead of log cabins and lopsided fires – I was at the luxurious L’Horizon Resort & Spa in Palm Springs.

The analogy isn’t surprising when you think back to L’Horizon’s start. Built in 1952 as a private residence, L’Horizon was intended as a desert escape for owner, movie producer and oil tycoon Jack Wrather, and all his friends. With 20 bungalows situated around a centerpiece pool, you get the sense that what Wrather really commissioned was his own glamourous summer camp, with guesthouses serving as ‘camp cabins’ and a zero-edge pool posing as a ‘lake’. Perhaps the truest definition of ‘glamping’. Read more…

Palazzo Scanderbeg hotel, Rome, Italy

The Scanderbeg Suite at Palazzo Scanderbeg is the ideal place to rest between pasta feasts

Travel writer Sarah Jappy bunks at Palazzo Scanderbeg in Rome and has a starch-filled love affair

You know how the saying goes: ‘When in Rome, bed down in a former pasta museum.’ Admittedly, that wasn’t a saying until 10 seconds ago, when I wrote it down, but now it is – and it’s one to live by.

It is a credit to the bloodhound-sensitivity of my nostrils that, as we step into Palazzo Scanderbeg’s immaculate entrance – all elegant splashes of fior di latte-white and neutral hues; casual coffee-table tomes here, monochrome artworks there; everything done in the best possible unobtrusive Italian taste – I remark to Mr Smith, with a sigh of pleasure: ‘It smells of pasta.’

Not the fiery garlicky tomatoey slug to the nose of arrabiata, not the salty, creamy, cheesy, wafty fug of carbonara, but the clean and simple smell of durum wheat. It’s a soothing scent. Jo Malone should probably launch a pasta-centric range; ‘Penne and Pine Nuts’ might topple Pomegranate Noir. Read more…

Featured image is Resort at Pedregal

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