Inside the Golden Door: Comedians Kate Berlant and Jacqueline Novak on Their Transformative Retreat

For years, the legend of the Golden Door has circulated through certain circles—a whisper shared between high-profile actresses and exhausted millionaires looking to recalibrate after the excesses of the holiday season. Founded in 1958, the Southern California sanctuary predates the modern wellness boom, standing as a pioneer in the industry. With its meticulously manicured Zen gardens, sunrise hikes, world-class health-conscious cuisine, and a relentless schedule of daily scrubs, wraps, and massages, it has long been a pilgrimage for the elite.

Recently, comedians Kate Berlant and Jacqueline Novak, co-hosts of the wellness-focused podcast Poog, found themselves trading their usual stage lights for the serene, bamboo-lined pathways of the Golden Door. Sent on assignment for Condé Nast Traveler, the duo—who have spent years jokingly "analyzing" luxury travel and spa culture—arrived at the historic retreat shortly after Berlant wrapped her latest HBO comedy special, Parmesan. What they expected to be a cynical, observational exercise in satire quickly transformed into a genuine, if not slightly surreal, experience of profound relaxation.

Act I: The Anticipation of the "White Whale"

The decision to visit the Golden Door was, in many ways, the culmination of the ethos behind Poog. As Berlant describes it, the podcast is "Goop backwards"—a space where they examine the absurdities of beauty, wellness, and travel with a comedic lens. Yet, the Golden Door proved to be more than just material for a bit. For Novak and Berlant, it was a "white whale," a legendary destination they had long discussed but never expected to inhabit.

The anticipation began weeks before their arrival with an exhaustive intake call. Staff members meticulously cataloged their dietary needs, personal preferences, and fitness goals. The attention to detail was staggering: they were asked about their preferred water types, their caffeine habits, and even the size of their portions. Guests are famously advised to leave their jewelry, perfume, and makeup at home, with the resort providing all necessary attire. It was a level of preparation that suggested a complete shedding of the outside world, a theme that would define their entire stay.

Act II: Arrival at the Gilded Gates

The transition from the frantic pace of professional comedy to the stillness of the Golden Door begins physically at the resort’s iconic, jewel-encrusted entrance. Upon arrival, guests are escorted across a wooden bridge that spans a lush canopy of Camellia trees. There is a deliberate ritual to the approach: the bridge turns fifteen degrees to the left, a design choice intended to prevent "dark energies" from following guests into the sanctuary. It is a moment of pause, a literal and metaphorical turning away from the stress of the outside world.

The resort operates on a rigid, weekly rhythm, with groups arriving and departing on Sundays. This structure creates a communal atmosphere that surprised both comedians. While they had initially considered retreating to their rooms for private meals, they found themselves drawn into the social fabric of the group. "There’s a middle school lunch vibe because you choose where to sit," Novak noted, recalling the experience of dining with venture capitalists, authors, and Gestalt therapists. Despite their initial hesitation, the communal nature of the experience eventually became a cornerstone of their stay.

The guest list, provided upon arrival, served to demystify the anonymity that often accompanies such exclusive settings. By knowing exactly who was sitting at the next table, the awkward "what do you do?" small talk was replaced by a strange, immediate familiarity. For Berlant, the experience of being "trapped" in this luxury ecosystem initially triggered anxiety, but it soon gave way to a sense of relief as she leaned into the curated schedule of activities, which ranged from Japanese calligraphy and Ikebana to archery and water volleyball.

Act III: Culinary Delights and the Rhythm of Stillness

The food at the Golden Door is as integral to the experience as the treatments. With a majority of the ingredients sourced directly from the property’s expansive onsite farm, the meals are designed to be both nutritious and deeply satisfying. Executive Chef Greg Frey Jr. oversees a kitchen that proved to be far more indulgent than the "starvation diet" myths might suggest. From black bean tempeh ramen to fresh sourdough pancakes and ginger-infused elixirs, the menu is a testament to the power of high-quality, seasonal produce.

The reduction of daily decision-making proved to be a primary driver of the relaxation both women experienced. With the daily schedule provided in advance, guests are freed from the mental load of choice. "Falling into the Golden Door daily rhythm, floating through the day according to the printed schedule, from activity to treatment, all optional," Novak remarked, was the most therapeutic aspect of the entire trip.

The physical activity was equally structured. Berlant, who initially intended to skip the 5:45 a.m. five-mile hike, found herself participating every morning. The experience of hiking through the dark and watching the sun rise over the California hills became a meditative practice. It was a stark contrast to their normal lives, offering a sense of clarity that felt both rare and necessary.

Act IV: The Complexity of Re-entry

The deeper the pair delved into the programming—which included sound baths, breathwork, and self-love workshops—the more they realized that the Golden Door is not merely a spa, but a space for profound personal resetting. During a sound bath, Novak experienced a physical sensation of "tetany," a physiological reaction to intense breathwork that, while alarming to outsiders, she described as a transformative heart-chakra opening.

As their four-day stay drew to a close, the prospect of leaving became genuinely distressing. Both comedians felt a visceral resistance to returning to the "real world." They extended their stay, unable to bear the thought of cutting the experience short. The "re-entry" process, as they were warned by long-term guests, is notoriously difficult.

Leaving the Golden Door, Berlant felt a lingering sense of stability, comparing her state of mind to characters who have undergone a life-changing epiphany. To hold onto the experience, she even froze a loaf of the resort’s sourdough, while Novak implemented a personal ritual of "knocking three times" at the gates of her own apartment complex, a small nod to the sanctuary they had just left behind.

For the Golden Door, the business model is simple: it is not interested in chasing trends or adding unnecessary amenities like televisions in mirrors or excessive digital connectivity. Its credibility is built on decades of consistency. It remains a place for those who have the world at their fingertips yet choose to return, time and again, to the quiet, disciplined, and profoundly restorative sanctuary at the end of the road. Whether it is a place one should save for years to visit remains a complex question, but for those who make the journey, the transformation is, if only for a few days, absolute.