Why in the world," I wonder, "do I need to be an hour early for a spa treatment," exchanging street clothes for spa robe amongst orchids blooming in the changing room. I slip out to the front desk and receive a glass of cucumber water and a short tour. The tour ends the first station of the Bathing Ritual.

The Bathing Ritual is the reason I’m here early. I start by slathering myself with a scented mineral scrub and a shower. Thus cleansed, I step into a pool of mineral waters that comes from deep within the earth.

The Fairmont Sonoma Mission Spa has its own source of mineral waters. Thermal waters have always bubbled to the surface here, but a 1965 excavation reached a 135-degree water source flowing 1,100 feet directly beneath the Inn. That water, cooled to various temperatures, fills the spa’s pools and tubs.

The first pool of the bathing ritual is cooled to a soothing 98-degrees and big enough for me to float idly on my back. A domed ceiling, painted midnight blue and encrusted with golden stars and a crescent moon, lies overhead. Pale apricot walls and misty steam infuse the spa with a hazy, otherworldly feel.

Next, I ease over to the hot, 108-degree, bath and position myself in front of a jet. When super hot, I climb out for a cool drink and an iced washcloth. Then it’s into the shower that feels like rain. A dance in the rain, a sit in the eucalyptus steam room, a spell in the sauna, nibble on apricots and almonds until its time for my treatment—not that I neand another shower ensue. Wrapped in terry cloth, I then glide to the lounge to ed one as badly as I did an hour ago.

The Harvest Kur is a combination of treatments designed to regenerate, relax and balance. First, my therapist rubs me down with her hands in a pair of brush-like gloves, and then leaves me to soak up the grape seed oil in yet another bath, this one with bubbles.

When I’ve marinated sufficiently, she reappears to paint me with mud of crushed grape seed and roses. It is, she tells me, full of A, E, and C vitamins, high in antioxidants, not to mention, mildly anti-inflammatory. Whatever, its lovely being mudded-up and wrapped in warm blankets. Breathing the musky-rosy aroma of wine country, I’m left to steam and dream.

Sometime later, I awake from my reverie for a 12-jet shower that quickly and briskly removes the mud. A full body massage follows.