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With hindsight, in years to come, it might prove to be one
of those pivotal moments of life. There we were, floating on our
backs in the Standard’s sound pool, an infinity pool facing the Bay
and the Miami skyline, as the sun set in shades of lavender and pink
between strips of cotton cloud—and without saying as much, it
might’ve hit us, right then, that perhaps we don’t miss Manhattan so
much as we sometimes think we do.
Sometimes it takes a local, someone more local than we
think we are. Someone who takes you to a place you might have heard
about—and yet, for some reason, a place to which you’ve not yet
found your way. It was Miamiambient@The Standard, their sexy
Thursday night event, whereby outside guests (aka locals) can
use the Standard’s sublime spa facilities for a mere ten dollars.
Check in at the spa, hand over the ten—and in return, you receive a
lovely white terrycloth waffle robe and a key to a personal locker.
From then on, you’re on your own: free to wander the spa and
wellness center, and the Standard’s lush landscaped grounds.
There’s much to see. We started at the hamam, a beautiful
circular room evoking the Roman baths, featuring heated marble
alcoves, and belly stone, and steel soaking tubs. From there, it
was into the aromatic steam room, fragranced with mint. We cooled
down beneath the cold rain shower—and then headed into the cedar
sauna. All around us, lithe and lovely people were wandering in
various states of undress, their robes left hanging on hooks along
the hallways. As tempting as it was to linger longer in this
sensuous sanctuary, we found our robes again—and headed out into the
balmy night.
Along the bay, people sipped cocktails and herbal tonics.
People in white robes and Buddhists in native dress wandered the
grounds: through the shady swing circle and past the garden fire
lounge. We slipped into the pool as the sun slid behind the
Miami skyline.
It was one of those gradual pools—where you walk in at ankle-length
and keep walking until you’re in over your head. Behind us was a
twelve-foot high falling water column—with a row of people below
letting the water work the tension from their necks and shoulders.
We floated in bliss. Voices murmured around us. A boat slid along
the water.
Later, we took the Arctic plunge, into 50-degree water—and
then immersed ourselves in the Roman waterfall hot tub. After that,
it was time for a drink—and so we oozed over to the Bayside Grill,
and in our white fluffy waffle robes, we sat bayside with cocktails
and ordered quasi-spa cuisine: farro, with rosemary and parmesan,
and seasonal vegetables a la plancha, as well as white beans and
corn. And meanwhile, all around us, people in white robes floated
by, sated, and perhaps sedated, and seemingly totally satisfied.
At evening’s
end, we felt as relaxed as if we’d been on a transatlantic cruise.
Mixing the best parts of a spa regime with elements of environmental
activism (thanks to the programming of ECOMB (Environmental
Coalition of Miami Beach)), Thursday nights at the Standard enable
one to feel both rejuvenated and virtuous. A nearly unbeatable
combination for a Thursday night in Miami Beach.
Best always,
Mark and Robert
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