In the emancipation of women across history, there are defining events—suffrage in 1920, Sandra Day O'Conner's appointment to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1981, Billy Jean King's tennis-match thrashing of Bobby Riggs in 1973—and relaxing destinations, such as Marbella Club, an award-winning residential enclave in Palmas del Mar, Humacao. Take the life of this one high-powered executive, high on the art of mergers and acquisitions—whose name will be kept anonymous.
At the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning, the stress of her 60-hour workweek is still lingering; she met her goals for the week and now has errands and a family to run. Even in that early morning haze, the pleasant surprise dawns on her that she awoke in Marbella Club. The husband is off on early tee time, the kids may or may not be tearing themselves asunder in their room, in what seems like a separate area code—the space between Master bedroom and children's room is that huge.
As far as the errands are concerned, she soon will be calling the concierge for items needed for the outdoor-dinner date planned on her enormous covered terrace overlooking the Humacao coast, with the island of Vieques off in the foreground.
This is Marbella, and her day goes something like this: A knock on the door from the concierge, who is earning her keep early this day with a bag of groceries—coffee, some eggs and bacon, cereal for the Energizer bunnies pining. "Where's breakfast— you're cutting into our beachclub time." No stress, no worries—à la Marbella.
An hour later, everyone is fed, and now it's "mama time." She gets to sit in her living room, sipping some fresh-brewed coffee and struggling just a bit to focus on the newspaper as she looks at the vast expanse of Humacao coastline in the distance— azure-blue waters, seagulls crisscrossing the skies; you get the picture. The thing about this setting is this: The 12-foot recessed ceilings, decidedly plantation décor and windows all around remind our heroine she's "not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy," and better still, make all the sacrifice of that week every bit worth it.
A couple of hours of Marbella decompression and its off to meet the kids at the Beach Club, where she gets to relax some more, because they're off on the water slide, then in the pool, playing mini soccer—enough activity to wear those adolescent batteries out.
La presidenta orders lunch poolside, where she is joined by her husband, whose day began in equally stellar fashion-shooting 38 on the front nine of the Flamboyán Course, only to return to earth on the back with a 45. No worries, this is Marbella.
A couple of hours under the pastelillo lighting of the intense tropical sun and it's back to the villa for a little "R & R." Nothing is more soothing than filling the Jacuzzi bathtub—Italian tile finish and whirlpool jets aplenty— with a little bubble bath to soak aches and pains away as you prepare for some early evening cocktails at Tapas, the harborside bodega-style eatery featuring stylized paellas, personalized sangria coolers and tasty finger-food options that run the gamut from ceviche to croquetas.
Back at Chateau Relaxeau, dinner with friends is easy, first because she is able to slide the windows separating the kitchen from the terrace and, just like that, some Martinis materialize on the outdoor bar—think of the TV show "Bewitched," filmed in the mambo tropics.
Winding down on that breezy terrace, the iron maiden's hard edges are all gone as she sits anticipating the endless possibilities in store the next day and the next, living a Marbella lifestyle.
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