Not Home for the Holidays

The holidays—roughly that period between Thanksgiving and New Year's—have traditionally been a time of spiky emotional behavior, high cash outlays and siege-mentality gift-giving and partygoing. Instead of summoning our charity and doling it out in an orderly fashion throughout the year, we are asked to give, receive, power-eat, power-drink and—as if that weren't enough—send a gazillion Christmas cards and thank-you notes. Which does not mean, of course, that the season—or, rather, how you choose to endure the season—should be devoid of tradition. I make a point of watching Brian De Palma's Scarface every December 25th, and that leaves me with a very warm feeling inside. What I'm suggesting is that there are holiday traditions of which you may not be aware, that are not your own and that may help ease you through this difficult period. It is also possible to escape Christmas entirely, to simply flee. Here are some suggestions as to where to go, singularly or in tandem, to make the most of what is sometimes a bad situation.

Cap Juluca

The Caribbean remains the epitome of everyone's getaway destination. And when it comes to the Antilles, lesser is more. On Anguilla, the northernmost dot of the British Lesser Antilles, is a cluster of five villas with 30 rooms called Cap Juluca. Owners Sue and Robin Ricketts have created a Moroccanlike resort on one of the most subdued and remote of the islands. There are no TVs, radios or clocks. Newspapers are available by special arrangement only. You're there to cool out in sumptuous comfort in a surrounding you've had tucked away on a mental postcard.

The most rigorous activity you'll endure is rising late, having breakfast on the terrace, then wandering off to the beach. Guests congregate at the restaurant for lunch and dinner. Those who dive, snorkel, fish or windsail do so without making a big deal of it. First-time visitors take lots of luggage. Second-time visitors take only carry-on bags. Although the resort has first-class facilities and a top-rate restaurant, the guests meander about in shorts, T-shirts and sarongs, (continued on page 168)The Holidays(continued from page 105) Cap Juluca does not fuss over its luxury. People go there because they want to escape the lives they live the rest of the time. The only task one sets for oneself is to notice how, in the presence of the warm ocean and the flawless skies, the world reachieves an unequivocal balance.

Oaxaca

Mexico to most of us means beaches, ocean sports, very hot sun and concern about drinking the water. In its resort communities, Mexico has decided to go the route of expansive, inclusive resort-style hotels that have a homogeneity that is, on one hand, reassuringly familiar and, on the other, inconsistent with the character of the country in which they find themselves.

Oaxaca City is a place where a number of cultures butt heads, brush themselves off and decide to have a beer together. It is a 17th Century colonial town that has retained its strong Zapotec, Mixtec and Spanish Catholic character. It is a gourmet's field trip: Sample each of the seven molés— though you may want to forgo the shredded-grasshopper appetizer. It is the region that invented that most savage of beverages: mescal. The worm at the bottom of the bottle shouldn't frighten you. In fact, it improves the flavor.

The Stouffer El Presidente hotel is a converted convent with a series of courtyards and fountains and is one of those environments that are stunning in their historicity. It is located in the center of town, making it a good place from which to begin your sight-seeing. Nico Gormsen, a local translator, can take you around to the local sites and explain as much as is explainable. Mexican Catholicism—unashamed of its fascination with death, oppression, pain and the simple necessities—is on view in several churches. You'll want to visit Mitla and Monte Albán, two beautifully complex ruins. You'll also want to visit Teotitlán del Valle, a town that has given birth to hundreds of weavers. The Zapotec patterns loomed there are made vibrantly red by their harvest of the increasingly rare cochineal bug that infests the cactus. When squished, it yields a magnificent range of reds and purples.

Two days before Christmas, Oaxaca hosts a celebration known as Radish Night. The local vendors dangle giant radishes sculpted into animal and human shapes to lure you into their stalls. It all adds to the ambient surreality of the place.

The Point

Between 1870 and 1930, a group of industrialists, financiers and railroad magnates invaded the Adirondack Mountains in northern New York State to build vacation retreats for their families. The resultant "camps" and their rustic furnishings, made from logs and native stone to blend with the natural beauty of the locale, became extremely fashionable—and the size of the buildings, if not their style, rivaled the retreats the rich had built for themselves in Newport and Saratoga Springs. The Whitneys, Vanderbilts and Rockefellers, among others, soon had grand estates collectively called the Great Camps.

One of those, Camp Wonundra, was built by William Avery Rockefeller in the early Thirties and is now open to the public as an 11-guest-room resort called The Point. Picture a Ralph Lauren sportswear ad—only with people who aren't into vogueing. It runs year-round, but the winter—and particularly around the holidays—is a terrific time to visit. There is cross-country skiing, snowshoeing and snow barbecues accompanied by a bonfire. Lake Placid, site of the 1980 winter Olympics, is nearby for adventurous souls who want to watch some ski jumping or try the luge.

Indoors, you lounge on one of the many oversized couches in the 30'x50' Great Hall and become gently toasted by a fire roaring in one of the enormous stone fireplaces. You mix your own drinks, as you might at a friend's house. You dress for dinner (Wednesdays and Saturdays are optionally formal). The Point's dining room is supervised by Bill McNamee, a Michelin-approved three-star chef.

The spirit at Christmas is that of a genial house party; there is a common tree under which guests are encouraged to place their presents. The elegant, baronial coziness of the place, plus the attentiveness of McNamee and his wife, Claudia, who manage the property, ensure that even if you choose to go alone, you will be well looked after.

Lucknam Park

The English didn't invent Christmas, but they certainly put a spit shine on it. And as much as London still can have a Dickensian glint to it (see "Style" on page 22), the countryside is where you'll most likely find those mythically familiar rituals of Christmas past. Six miles northeast of Bath, in Wiltshire, is Lucknam Park—a magnificent Georgian manor house built in 1720 that has been converted into 39 rooms and suites. It is nestled on 270 acres of parkland. The approach to the house is a magnificent mile-long allée—a grassy pathway for horsemen with double stands of vaulting 100-year-old beech trees.

Inside, there is a series of public rooms, including a library and a huge living room where, each afternoon, aperitifs and tea are served. Behind the manor house—in a walled garden that was once the stable—is a spa with a pool, a gym, a whirlpool bath, a steam room, a sauna, massage showers and a solarium. There is also a full-size snooker table. For the woman who may accompany you, there is also a beauty salon with a full array of treatments whose effects you will appreciate but the details of which you really don't want to know.

She, and you, may also want to visit nearby Bath. The city is still a favorite for the shopping sprees of the contemporary royals—whose family homes dot, rather grandly, the surrounding shires. Antiquarian bookshops, antique stores, jewelers and silversmiths, country-sport shops and gunsmiths shoehorn themselves into this most comprehensive and beautiful of cities.

Lucknam Park plans a four-night Christmas program that includes caroling, midnight services at the village church in Colerne, followed by mince pies and hot toddies by the library's fireplace. On Christmas Day, you can watch other people's children greet Father Christmas, who shows up in a carriage, then watch them run around the estate hunting for treasure. Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, is traditionally the time to visit friends, and Lucknam Park organizes a trip to the National Trust village of Lacock to see the Avon Vale Hunt. That evening, the hotel hosts a gala dinner and dance. Frivolity aside, it is the ideal refuge for the holidays, a place to relax and soak up an atmosphere that has been percolating for centuries.

Santa Fe

There's a saying that Santa Fe is the only place where you can leave the (concluded on page 216)The Holidayscontinued from page 168) country without leaving the United States. It's true that the city of Santa Fe and the state of New Mexico have had European settlers for as long as any place in America. But that doesn't stop visitors from asking local merchants where they can change dollars for pesos nor asking their travel agents whether they need a passport to travel there.

All this is good news for the world-weary holiday escapee who is looking for a forgiving, healing sky. Santa Fe was founded by Franciscan Fathers in the early 1600s as a writers' and artists' center. The setting couldn't have been better, situated as it is on a 7000-foot-high plateau in the middle of the sagebrush-strewn Southwestern desert. To the east are twin-peaked mountains that some Indians believed were the breasts of the god from whose white-capped peaks we were created. The Spanish would have none of that and renamed them for the blood of Christ, or Sangre de Cristo. To the west, the Jemez Mountains swell up like a geological crescendo. The sky is the color of polished turquoise and the air is dry and clear. For some reason, the high desert terrain seems to put nature on alert and makes it stand at attention. In the Twenties, D. H. Lawrence and Georgia O'Keefe were lured to the Santa Fe area. Nowadays, Gene Hackman, Robert Redford and James Taylor are some of the people who may be buying their newspaper next to you in town.

Santa Fe is still known for its arts community. It has the highest per-capita percentage of galleries and artists in the world. You can stay in town at La Posada de Santa Fe, a 108-year-old Victorian mansion with both guest rooms and casitas with fireplaces arranged on a six-and-a-half-acre site. Eight miles north of town, in Tesuque, is the Rancho Encantado—a resort nestled in the hills whose adobe buildings offer some of the most gracious accommodations in the area. Either way, you will want to rummage around, as Santa Fe has a wide variety of contemporary art and is the best area in which to buy Indian art: jewelry, pottery, weavings, paintings, kachina dolls and baskets.

During the holidays, Santa Fe puts on its Christmas costume. That includes farolitos—candles anchored with sand in paper sacks—which outline houses and businesses. During the nine nights before Christmas, special bonfires called luminarias blaze for Las Posadas pageants, which are re-enactments of Joseph and Mary's search for shelter. There are as many variations of the procession as there are parishes in Santa Fe, but each is infused with Spanish and folkloric touches. The atmosphere that seems to waft from this simple pageantry can pierce the most cynical of spirits.

Tall Timber

If you're in the mood for total seclusion during the holidays, there's a resort high in the Colorado mountains—inaccessible and the only privately owned land in the San Juan Forest. During most seasons, Tall Timber accepts guests, as well as provisions and supplies, via the famous 100-year-old narrow-gauge Silverton train that meanders through canyons and rocky cliffs for two hours from Durango.

In winter, however, the only way to get there is by helicopter. There are no phones, just a two-way radio linkup with the outside world. The resort is designed not to distract you from the spectacular scenery. And at Christmas, Tall Timber makes special use of its remoteness. All of its buildings are outlined in lights. There are ten two-story chalets, each outfitted with a fireplace, several bedrooms and its own Christmas tree. Santa shows up on Christmas Eve and distributes gifts to the guests. And when you're not being pampered with sensational food, you can cross-country ski or relax in outdoor hot tubs surrounded by fresh snow. Skiers are helicoptered to nearby slopes. At Tall Timber, a snowy silence takes over and you won't hear a peep—or a beeper—from the world from which you came.

Hotel Bel-Air

Although the best strategy for enduring the holidays may be to hide out, there's no reason to skimp on accommodations. Los Angeles' Hotel Bel-Air is on just about everyone's best-hotels list as a refuge of an extremely high order; and it has undergone a renovation that rated a ten-page Architectural Digest salute.

This is a hotel without lobbies, elevators or hallways. Its 11 and a half flowered acres are home to 92 rooms and suites, each individually designed and outfitted to meet the standards of a clientele among the most powerful in the world. It's an environment in which guests know they will not be disturbed—by paparazzi, by a mediocre meal or by a room appointment out of place.

A Los Angeles Christmas can seem almost a contradiction in cultural terms, but that will fade with pampering of the kind the Bel-Air routinely offers.

We've grown up with the idea that the holidays are a special lime—overflowing with good cheer and love for our fellow man. Nothing's worse, however, than finding ourselves in an environment whose psychological ecosystem presents us with expectations we're not ready to fulfill. The good news is that we can just say no. And then go off and have ourselves a merry little Christmas of our own design.

"The English didn't invent Christmas, but they certainly put a spit shine on it."

"Santa Fe is good news for the world-weary holiday escapee who's looking for a forgiving, healing sky."