"The poor words with which natural human speech is provided, cannot suffice to describe the Madonna Inn... Let's say that Albert Speer, while leafing through a book on Gaudi, swallowed an overgenerous dose of LSD and began to build a nuptial catacomb for Liza Minnelli."

-Umberto Eco, Travels In Hyperreality

Morning. I awake in my overstuffed faux everything bed in The Austrian Suite and want to cry out, "Let them eat cake!" I'm in some terrible, wonderful drag queen version of Marie Antoinette and I don't want to wake up.

The room, at first glance, is a shrine to rococo decadence, with lilting curvaceous accents on just about everything, including an Alice in Wonderland-sized leather stuffed chaise lounge that makes me want to take an under aged lover, a stable boy, perhaps, by the name of Jean Ropspierre Val Jeanluc or something. He'll feed me Bon Bons and I'll read him some of my favorite passages from the Marquis De Sades, Les Crimes De L'amour... But wait? This isn't France? It's San Luis Obispo and, frankly, I've got the wrong empire!?

Confusion sets in. Where am I? Who Am I? Is this what classy looks like? At closer inspection, I can't help but ask myself, is a rabbit fur settee really necessary? Is a heated toilet seat really a proper totem of taste? Do I really need to see my reflection refracted endlessly in all those mirrors? The answer: Yes! Always Yes! Give me more! I feel dizzy. I need a tour and maybe one of Mr. Madonna's famous pork sausages.

Happily I'm in luck (notwithstanding the sausage). My lovely guide, Rebecca, takes me to see some of the more incredible moments in Madonna Inn décor. She shows me The American Suite, which is more like the genesis of a sexual encounter between Braveheart and Mrs. Brady. The Fireplace is made from gargantuan fleshy rocks and it is offset by gilded plates adorning the Tudor style walls. A throne like daybed, with flourishes of leopard print pillows, finishes the look-no time to question, we must journey on...

We arrive at the crux of the Inn's design philosophy, The Madonna Suite. Before we enter, we are distracted by the sounds of generous love making emanating from the neighboring Gypsy Room. (Perhaps, just the ghost of Ethel Merman?) My tender tour guide, who seems a bit too used to this sort of thing, ignores the cries of passion, and ushers me into the suite: Donna Karen Home this ain't. The carpet is a neon pink floral explosion. The walls are constructed from dark, rich, chocolatey rock that envelops the entire space.

Cherubs float, blissfully, at the center of the chandeliers that frame the rouge velveteen bed. But the real showstopper is the grotto shower, carved from more of that seductive cocoa colored rock. Multiple showerheads jut forth from the earthen walls, and I begin to wonder, perhaps that couple over in The Gypsy Room should have shelled out some extra bucks for this special pleasure?

My tour guide returns me to the main building where I proceed to order myself a nice big dirty martini and some of the aforementioned pork sausage. I am reminded of the scientific fact that we all might be a little bit gay as I ponder Mr. and Mrs. Madonna crafting each unique room with love. Famously Mr. Madonna said, "Anybody can build one room and a thousand like it, I want people to come in with a smile and leave with a smile." Well, I'm certainly grinning from ear to ear. But that might just be the booze talking.

Next on my list of things to do: sneak into the men's bathroom and try and take a leak in that famous Waterfall Urinal . . .

THE DETAILS: The Madonna Inn
100 Madonna Road
San Luis Obispo, CA 93405
800.543.9666
805. 543.3000
www.madonnainn.com

Story by Juliette Clair.

FIND YOURSELF WANTING MORE? READ OUR INTERVIEW WITH ARTIST LAUREN HAGGIS.