If you dove into only one pool a day at La Quinta Resort & Club, it would take you 41 days to splash in every single one of this vast compound’s refreshing watering holes. Cooling off is key in this desert setting, an enclave on the verge of the Santa Rosa Mountains, in the Coachella Valley, about two hours from Los Angeles.

But that’s not the only thing you can do in this iconic hideaway, which sheltered the rich, famous and those otherwise in the need for repose for nearly a century. Spread out across 45 beautifully manicured acres, dotted with citrus trees and cacti, La Quinta grew from a wellness-focused enclave of 20, red-roofed, Mission Revival-style casitas, opened in 1926, to today’s more massive retreat — a complex of 620 suite-like guestrooms (set up as individual bungalows) and 98 villas. Oddly, even when at near capacity, La Quinta feels as if its founder envisioned it as sleepy, slow-paced and relaxing. Sure, people volley on any number of the various 23 tennis courts (clay and hard), and, clearly, guests hike the adjacent mountain trails, pedal though the resort’s pathways and sweat to their heart’s delight in the state-of-the-art gym. But overall, La Quinta exudes a kind, somnambulistic quietude. People relax here — and that’s just what the resort wants.

I arrive after a day spent climbing boulders in nearby Joshua Tree National Park, delighted to yield to the calm. The first day, I join a yoga class in La Quinta’s inimitably Instagrammable Studio One, nicknamed Ten Thousand Buddhas for its golden Buddha-festooned walls. Under the leadership of Dr. Eden Goldman, a Mindfulness Program offers scores of options for meditation and yoga. But one is all I need to feel instant harmony, and I pass the rest of the day letting the resort do its magic. I am not the first person to fall under La Quinta’s spell. When Walter H. Morgan built the property, he imagined a healthy spot for silver screen stars to recoup their energy after exhausting filming schedules. Just close enough to be allowed by Hollywood contracts, the resort attracted many stars who would not have been able to travel farther. “I’m off to La Quinta,” cried Betty Davis to pestering paparazzi as she retreated to the oasis, bound, no doubt, for a proper martini or two. Home to many heyday stars (not to mention still popular with today’s Tinsel Town crowd), the resort famously gained the patronage of Frank Capra, who nearly always stayed in the same bungalow. After penning It Happened One Night in his cottage, La Quinta became his good luck getaway — and he returned again and again, nearly living here full time at the end of his life.

But it’s my favorite star — Greta Garbo — whose presence I feel most at La Quinta. I visit her villa one afternoon, a place the resort often uses for weddings, thanks to its lavish gardens and compelling courtyard. “We might find a door unlocked,” a staff member says to me, as we peer through the windows, entranced by the period effects that remain in the living room and other common areas — from carpets to vases. But no door budges. That is, until we reach the upstairs bedroom, which opens to the courtyard. The door falls open, and guiltily we slink in to see Greta’s bed, tiny but grand, and a few items (curated) left hanging nostalgically in the closet. A silk nightgown catches my eye. It seems to shiver with life. La Quinta’s like that — the place has soul.

La Quinta Resort & Club

49499 Eisenhower Drive
La Quinta, CA 92253
tel 760 564 4111
laquintaresort.com