IXTAPAN DE LA SAL, Mexico -- I've been oiled, salted, kneaded, toned, perfumed, prodded in the intimate reaches of my metatarsal pressure points. My thighs have jounced and bounced; my Third Eye and First Chakra have been pried apart.

In this land of exquisite torture, I've even been denied chocolate. And I'm feeling pretty great about it all.

For a child of Depression Era parents -- Calvinists to boot -- the idea of tossing hundreds of dollars on a day at a spa is an all-too-fleeting extravagance that never seemed worth it. Springing for the occasional massage at the end of a particularly wretched week was pricy enough.

But when my Miamian-turned-New Yorker friend, Phyllis Stoller, suggested meeting at a spa in Mexico, I plunked down the credit card. Between a dying parent, fast-paced workplace, one of those ''zero'' birthdays and The Husband's midnight emergency appendectomy, I needed a break. And the price was oh-so-right: $830 for a four-night package including single room, all meals, workout classes and multiple spa treatments -- about the price of a ''day'' at a top spa here in Miami.

The added benefit: Girlfriending, that peculiar female ritual in which you never run out of things to say, and what you do say never comes back to haunt you.

COMFORT, NOT LUXE

And so I found myself whisked from Mexico City's sprawling airport and daunting traffic on a two-hour ride through the mountains to Ixtapan de la Sal, a friendly mountain town where the main street is lined with gardens and white-washed tree trunks. Just past the stately village fountain, the hotel rises from a hillside garden of bougainvillea and poinciana trees.

Hotel Ixtapan isn't a luxury resort, but the open-air lobby, twin swimming pools, spacious, cheery rooms (sans AC, but in the mountains, cool enough even in summer) were more than comfortable. A constant refrain of tweets whistled from the tree tops sheltering the 13-acre park of fountains and lawns. The tennis club, golf course and a children's play area offered diversions for guests who weren't sweating it out in the gym or soaking up the spa.

Phyllis -- founder of one of the first big women's travel companies, who has since sold her firm -- understands the importance of girlfriend getaways. ''The women you read about are bragging about backpacking around the world. But most women aren't like that,'' she says. She doesn't like traveling alone, and her job-focused husband wouldn't have enjoyed this trip. ``You travel with your spouse, it's work, I don't care who your spouse is.''

Like the pal she is, Phyllis waited in the lobby for my arrival, then whisked me to lunch and let me know about the aromatherapy massage she'd booked for me that afternoon. What more could a girlfriend ask?

For the next four days, we would pursue our common goals: Exercise, health-conscious meals, pampering and the deepening of friendship.

We certainly weren't alone. Groups of women from Oregon, New Jersey and Texas aerobocized, yoga-ed and hoisted margaritas elbow-to-elbow, and we even saw the occasional woman traveling solo. Most were 50-plus -- a big part of his clientele, says owner Roberto San Roman, whose grandfather first developed the resort in the 1940s. About 33,000 American women came here for spa retreats last year.

Some come for the health benefits, some to relax among fellow X-chromosomers. Like most of the other guests we met, Marilyn Deaton of Medford, Ore., was a veteran, I learned one morning at aerobics class.

''The first time I came I did all the exercise with the diet and I didn't lose a single pound. There's a man who's come here every year for the past 21 years; he says you have to stay at least 10 days to two weeks to actually lose weight.'' Deaton and her gang only stay a week. But she keeps coming back; this was visit No. 6.

Rosemary Owens of Dallas, who was lounging by the pool, has been visiting here since the mid-1990s with a crowd of fellow airline employees. ``It's lovely. It's affordable. They have beautiful service and food. You get a whole lot of bang for the buck. And the treatments are really good; each year they've improved.''

BATTLE OF BULGE

Owens said she didn't expect to lose weight -- this visit would last only four days -- but she was hoping to get back on a healthy track. Phyllis and I were hoping for the same; each of us was carrying more pounds than we'd like.

So each morning we started with a workout or aerobics or yoga class, followed by breakfast in the resort's spa restaurant of fresh fruit, cereals, fresh juices -- including a cactus diuretic that looked like pond scum but tasted OK -- and eggs cooked to order. No croissants or butter here; that was across the grounds in the ''regular'' restaurant. Eat reasonably, and you can consume less than 1,000 calories per day if you take all three meals in the spa restaurant -- though portion control is up to you.

Invariably, Phyllis and I were the last to leave, as we caught up on business and friends and books and shared the usually-secret joys and woes of family. ''Sometimes when you're away from home, you're willing talk about things you'd never discuss with people you see regularly,'' she says. So true.

We by-passed possible excursions -- Taxco for silver shopping, Cuenavaca for gardens -- in favor of a slow pace. By mid-morning, we were ready for shopping in the sweet town, scooping up silver jewelry and locally made face creams and clay piggy banks painted by the artist as we watched. Then it was lunch, reading -- one day a golf lesson -- and visits to the spa.

I was hesitant about the spa treatments, having had more than a few wimpy massages in my travels. But each -- some included in my package, some involving an extra fee -- rated very good to excellent. Firming facials, reflexology, deep massage, loofah, mani- and pedi-cure, scalp massage, and my favorites, a Thai massage and an aromatherapy -- left me feeling beautified and soothed. Many took place in the resort's new Holistic Spa, a serene space of high light ceilings and trickling pools that opened last December.

By evening, we dined -- though I admit, not always in the spa restaurant, and yes, we had the occasional margarita. But we'd been good all day, and that, we figured, should be good enough.

The four-day spa visit may not have cured all my woes, but by the time I headed back to reality, I was at least less savage. I can't say that I lost the first ounce or dramatically shifted my lifestyle. But months later, I'm still eating healthier than I was and getting more exercise than before my visit. My jeans are a little looser. And while I don't talk to Phyllis every day, or even every week, I know that the minute I call, we'll be right back where we were -- at least friendship-wise -- in Mexico.

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