THE SPA AT THE PENINSULA BEVERLY HILLS.

Every summer I try to spend a week at a spa, and every summer I return home to a week's worth of work that makes my relaxation vanish as quickly as it came. What's the point? This year I decided to combine business and pleasure by checking into The Peninsula Beverly Hills. My villa had everything I could possibly need -- voice mail, a private fax, a portal for my laptop -- even a fluffy cotton robe and slippers to wear to the fifth floor Peninsula Spa.

Right after unpacking, I headed to the Spa for an Aromatherapy massage. First, I showered in the Italian marble locker room before unkinking my muscles in the sauna and steam bath. Back and forth I went, sampling the dry heat and then inhaling the moist eucalyptus-scented air. Before long, my therapist, Erin, led me outside to a private poolside cabana where a cushioned massage table had been made-up with fine white sheets. She zipped up the canvas curtain for privacy, poured a liniment of almond, jasmine, and coconut oils into her hands, and rubbed it into all of the right spots. An hour later I emerged, strolled fluidly past the beautiful people sunbathing on their chaises, and entered the Spa's wet room for a grape seed body polish beneath the Vichy shower. I now felt incapable of doing anything for myself Later, I managed to order dinner back in my room, but that was about it.

My second day began with the Peninsula Signature Facial, which I have on good authority is a favorite of the Beverly Hills elite (and their teenage daughters). My esthetician, Suzanne, cleansed, steamed, and massaged my face, then expertly unclogged my pores before applying an exfoliating papaya enzyme mask overlaid with cheesecloth and paraffin to aid absorption. Last came a vitamin C moisturizer followed by sunscreen, a good thing as I was due back at the cabana for a manicure and pedicure with Chantalynn.

As I lounged poolside, Chantalynn opened a black train case filled with magical lotions, tools, and lacquers and proceeded to file and bevel my nails, eyeing them from every angle to make certain the shape was just right. She then soaked my hands and feet in warm water before massaging cream into them. I played the pampered princess, trying to place the accents of the other guests while watching a blond American and her boyfriend cool themselves off under the misters built into their cabana.

The only thing missing from this perfect picture was food. While my polish dried, I asked one of the servers to bring me a Cobb salad, a glass of Chardonnay, and a slice of Chocolate Obsession cake -- my idea of spa cuisine.

I have to conclude that The Peninsula Beverly Hills, located right in the heart of the city, is my idea of a spa vacation. After a few days I felt more relaxed than if I had spent a week at any spa far, far away And, having accomplished all of my work in the mornings, looking forward to the rest of the day filled with spa pampering, I didn't dread returning to a desk piled with work. I walked out the doors, held open by the famed Peninsula pageboys in white, with a glowing face and body so smooth, I think it actually shone.

Laurie Drake is a contributing editor to Allure magazine. She has also written for the Los Angeles Times, In Style, and Vogue.