I want to taste it again, either by secret or by sin. Can you keep a secret?

Where the palm trees meet the cacti, where the ocean gives way for the desert, is my calm and oasis in Palm Springs. Away from the crowds of Art Basel that would flock Coachella, a scorching-by-day and chilly-by-night city greets me with seductive arms. Perched at the Avalon Palm Springs, manicured without a touch of arrogance, is my haven of secluded bliss.

Close to the downtown area where one can see vintage cars and bohemian architecture mushrooming between steep palms, the property has 67 Spanish-style lodgings, many of which are romantic studios with pools to do essentially anything under the desert sun. The Spanish kissed bungalows have been a hideout for Hollywood’s glitterati since the 1930s, and soaked in so much legend and dipped in vintage blues, literally, is a charming oasis.

Originally built in 1929 by Frank Pershing, the (in)famous bungalows followed suit with the Estrella motor inn alongside the cocktail bars, cigar lounges, tennis courts and more. Guests would hide their affairs and romances alongside the likes of Joan Crawford, Clark Gable, Marilyn Monroe, and Errol Flynn. As such, there are many hidden nooks and crannies, all under the desert sun, but secluded nonetheless. A nod to the history of Los Angeles that I had recently savored, and rejoiced for years on end.

Much of my time was spent by the poolside amidst voyeurs and comrades alike, with the availability of those playing croquet, table tennis or corn hole on the lawn. With a backdrop to the mountains while doing yoga or meditation, the natural soundtrack was one of tricking fountains and chirping birds in the 4.5 acres of lawns of fauna and flora.

Can you keep a secret? No more, I guess.