I am not a man who parts well with hard-earned cash. So blowing more than US$ 1,500 a night on a honeymoon vacation did not come easily. As it turned out, I would have paid more.

Las Ventanas al Paraíso is what’s called a five-diamond luxury resort. Perched at the tip of Mexico’s Baja Peninsula, the place would be relaxing if they just set out some lawn chairs and an ice bucket. But you don’t get named one of the top 100 of the world’s best hotels by Travel & Leisure magazine by setting out lawn chairs.

My wife and I picked Las Ventanas for two reasons: web shots of the infinity pool that appears to drop into the Sea of Cortez (I’m all about a great pool), and because of a romance package that made the trip seem almost affordable.

In addition to an all-inclusive meal plan (though it excludes the most important line item — cocktails), we’d be reduced to blubber with various treatments at the world-renowned spa, gorge at a quixotic dinner on the beach and loll with aromatherapy turndown service.

Luxury life at Las Ventanas centers around the pool, panoramic ocean views and unforgettable service.

Rave reviews from the online source TripAdvisor and what seems like every travel magazine that ever made a “best” list (Forbes, Condé Nast Traveler, Andrew Harper’s Hideaway Report, Wine Spectator and others) helped with our choice, not to mention cheap airfare from Seattle.

What the heck — we put ourselves in massive debt with the wedding — what was another 10 grand for a once-in-a-lifetime excursion?

We arrived in Cabo and immediately got a taste of the good life. Outside baggage claim, a driver escorted us to our waiting Mercedes, then provided us with refreshing drinks, a cool, lemongrass– scented face towel, a chart of the week’s weather and a briefing from The New York Times. Already, I felt like Trump on holiday. Twenty minutes later we’d arrived at our destination — and were ruined for any future travel experience.

Apparently there is no “check-in” upon reaching paradise. No standing in line, no schlepping bags. A uniformed gentleman who knows your name hands you a parasol and leads you immediately to your suite, where champagne and fresh fruit await. You are given a map of the property, a brief overview of the room’s ample amenities, and a card with your contact’s name should you be needing anything further.

They really mean anything — as in helicopter rides, a sunset cruise on the hotel yacht, handmade suits, a Mini Cooper convertible, in-room spa services, gourmet feasts to your specification and, for those staying in the largest suites, their own personal butlers. You name it (and pay for it) — it’s done. Being on somewhat of a budget, we drank the free bubbly and headed to the pool, where we hoped to rub shoulders with the rich and famous.

The brochure says that “Las Ventanas was not simply built, but created.” Part Disneyland, part Xanadu, part Buddhist temple, Las Ventanas is a serene, elegant dream world where thoughts of the life you left behind stay in the deep recesses of your memory until you are dragged kicking and screaming back to it.

Every detail — from the hand-laid mosaic walkways to the meandering waterways, and original art by Mexican master Rodrigo Pimentel — has been designed to rejuvenate and satisfy the senses. For those needing to fast track the relaxation agenda, there’s also a tequila-tasting bar with the world’s best agave distillations.

Apparently, a huge part of the mega-rich experience is being waited on hand and foot. And not the kind of bad lingering where you pay a Mariachi band just to leave you alone, but the kind of service that feels more like a friend — a friend waiting on you hand and foot, but a friend nonetheless.

Staff outnumber guests at Las Ventanas almost four to one (there are 400 employees and around 120 guests in only 61 suites), but you won’t see most of them as they scurry to clean your room or deliver fresh ahi tuna loin; hidden service tunnels run underneath the property, allowing guests to feel as though they are alone at all times.