Mayflower Inn & Spa​

I needed a mini vacation that offered distance – physically, and more importantly, mentally – from Manhattan; a little time away from one another would be good for our relationship. The solution to this urbanite's problem came in a last-minute escape to Mayflower Inn & Spa?, an elegant New England-style hideaway in Washington, Connecticut, with a superb spa.

A subway, two Metro-North trains, and several hours later, I arrived in Waterbury, about a 30-minutes drive east of Washington, where I was able to hail an Uber to take me the rest of the way. Showing up in a chauffeured black car seemed like an appropriate arrival to make at this stately manor where a fleet of BMWs filled the parking lot.

However, any perceived pretension stopped there. Stepping inside the inn felt like I was entering a friend’s well-kept country home ­ – a very affluent friend with a penchant for colonial revival architecture and design, mind you – but overall a cozy one.

Sitting rooms outfitted with leather Chesterfield sofas flanked both sides of the main entryway, each with lit fireplaces. The book-lined shelves, and the day’s newspapers set out on tables, all practically beckoning you to come take a load off for a few... hours.

My Superior Room, with its canopied four-poster bed and a mini library of books in the bathroom only furthered that feel of having been completely whisked away. I took in the view of the maze-like back garden before dropping my bags and making a beeline for the spa house. My sister was joining me later, and I wanted to get a lay of the land before our treatments that afternoon.

The spa menu’s 60-plus services would have been nearly impossible to choose from, had it not been for the fact that we opted early on to treat ourselves to a deep tissue duet massage. Admittedly, my sister was the least romantic partner for a mood-setting massage, but it was a relative bargain compared to each of us getting our own separately. What's not to love about that? 

We had just enough time for a quick steam before we were due to meet our massage therapists, two attentive women who spent the next hour working each of us from stressed-out head to tense toe. My sister and I claimed that each of us had the better of the two massages; it was one of those debates where everyone wins.

Floating back up to the main lounge area, I longed for just an hour more to stay in my soft robe and recline on one of the chaise loungers, but our dinner reservation was fast approaching.

We made our way downstairs to the Tap Room, a casual gastropub and one of the hotel’s two restaurants. We loved the unstuffy atmosphere and our table near the fireplace however, I was hoping for some lighter vegetarian options given the hotel's focus on wellness. Anyone craving hearty American fare though – think burgers and steak – and locally sourced ingredients will be a happy camper, and the fries were ridiculously addictive.

The following morning I noted that my room’s WiFi seemed to be on the fritz. Not only did the staff promptly investigate the issue, but they suggested switching me to a different room entirely. I eagerly accepted it as a chance to see more of the hotel (all in the name of research, of course).

My new lodging for the night, an upgrade to the Eaton Suite, wasn’t just a larger room, but it felt like an apartment, complete with a separate living room and fireplace, an additional WC and a private terrace. I already knew that my night was set: room service, fireplace and a shameless block of reality TV. Perfection.

But first, to justify my plans to loaf around all evening, I needed to stretch my legs. Despite being warned of the steep hills with little shoulders, I made the descent down to the quaint commercial area, also known as Washington Depot, on foot. I consider myself an intrepid walker, however, I wouldn’t make that trip again without wheels.

I made the most of my time in town with a browse through the selection of books and cards at Hickory Stick Bookstore and a light lunch at Marty’s, a charming cafe and coffee shop just a few doors down. Note: if the zesty Italian tuna salad sandwich is the daily special, order it.  

Back at the Mayflower, I headed to the spa house for a Vinyasa yoga class. It was less rigorous than my usual routine, and I welcomed the more meditative pace. It put me in the mood for another trip to the steam room, followed by an hour or two, or three (who’s counting?) reading and dozing in the Garden Room, a quiet sanctuary decorated in all-white with a wall of windows overlooking the hiking trails and lake.

The rest of my evening in my suite was a relaxed and happy blur. I ordered the satisfying grilled shrimp from room service, which I heaped on top of the kale salad, roasted vegetables, and ginger carrots and I’d picked up earlier at The Pantry, a beautiful little gourmet lunch spot in town.

As I ate beside the fire, I could hear old parlor tunes drifting up from a piano being played somewhere downstairs. I couldn’t have felt further from New York City, yet I knew that when tomorrow arrived, I’d be rested and recharged enough to go back.