If you drive West on Highway 67 and cross the Brazos River via a small, reed-plagued bridge, there's a sprawling hotel quaintly nestled in a clearing, surrounded by Pecan trees.
The plot hides in plain sight on the outskirts of Glen Rose, a popular migratory spot for Fort Worthians looking for a river-side art district with surprising ties to Elvis Presley, killer antiques without the drive to Round Top, and fossilized dinosaur tracks leading to the most substantial biscuits in Texas.
Retired FWPD officer and resident Mitchell Ellis and his wife, Kimmie, were two such nomadic Fort Worthians looking to break into the rentable getaway market during the pandemic.
The couple partnered with Fort Worth manufacturing company owner John Pastusek and his wife Anna to bring an Air BnB to life in Glen Rose, and it took off.
Ellis describes Pastusek as a workout buddy who is good with details, although he laughs that they are both dreamers.
“It was booked for two years solid,” Ellis said with a laugh. “It just did phenomenally. So, that’s how we got started.”
TCU grad Daryl Stafford, a banker and the more serious "money man" in the group, partnered with the project next, along with his wife Andrea, after Ellis and Pastusek asked him to review their plan to expand their hospitality business into a boutique hotel in 2021, becoming La Palmilla.
“By the end of the conversation he asked us, ‘Can I be in it?'” Ellis laughs again.
Inside the 31 Spanish-colonial era-inspired rooms, guests will find soft-toned Turkish rugs and pillows, gold mirrors, and billowy drapes surrounding warm-wooded, four-poster beds.
The kitchen tile is clean and bright, and Ellis makes a point to load the cabinets full of high-end dishes and cookware.
In the living spaces, guests can fall into overstuffed couches and chairs from Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware in honey brown and tobacco hues.
"We wanted everything to feel upscale," says Ellis. "Not fake-nice."
Ellis certainly achieved the desired effect.
The venue cantina, across from the Hendrick Arnold Bluff, showcases Spanish tile flooring, lively mosaic designs, imported Mexican furniture for lounging and dining, and hand-crafted Dalle de Verre stained glass by local artist Cody Stromberg that mimics the area sunsets, a well-known muse.
“We really wanted this thick, dark stained glass," says Ellis. "And a man named Cody Stromberg popped up when I researched artists near Fort Worth. So, I invited him to the property.”
When Stromberg pulled up a week later, it was in a dirty pickup with dirtier overalls.
“I don’t know what a stained-glass artist looks like, but this guy was not the picture I had in my mind, you know?” laughs Ellis. But he was the man for the job, uniquely qualified and invested in the project as if divinely instructed to do so.
“He told us what we wanted no longer existed, but he was willing to work on something for us.”
Stromberg's efforts culminated in the chapel, Casa del Rey, or “The House of the King.”
Using the same Dalle de Verre glass method as the cantina, here, Stromberg was inspired by Revelation IV in the Bible when John enters the Lord's throne room and describes what scholars believe is the Rapture, or Jesus calling the Christians home to live in perpetuity with Him in Heaven.
Stromberg's vision of the scene starts above the chapel dais, where a glass sphere radiates red and emerald behind an iron cross.
A multi-talented Stromberg fabricated one-of-a-kind tiles to border the glass. The effect is a ring of men bent in reverence to the cross, another wink to Revelation.
The panels of colorful glass continue from the dais, lining the chapel walls and filling the room with emerald and ruby light.
The crowns at the bottom of the panels symbolize the world's kings throwing their symbols of authority at God's feet.
Ellis needed to fortify the walls around the windows to support the weighty sheets, and crews carried each installment in three to four pieces.
After the tiles, Stromberg put on his carpenter hat and carved the chapel pews.
“Some words that kept coming up during the building process were ‘excellence,’” says Ellis. “And 'authenticity.' We wanted everything to feel real and not like a themed resort.”
To source authentic Spanish tile, furniture, and art, Ellis phoned friend and designer Sarah Summers, who assisted him with the venue decor.
Ellis and Summers took some inspiration from the resort's namesake, La Palmilla, a small tourist town near Los Cabo, Mexico.
The locale is beautiful, for sure, a dotted landscape of spikey yucca and cactus, but more importantly for Ellis, it's a memorable vacation spot for him and Kimmie.
The couple's marriage underwent a renaissance in recent years, and Ellis explains that sharing the memories with guests shares their love story.
“This is also really special,” says Ellis. He walks over to the chapel doorway and points to a small brand. “This is the very first cattle brand registered in the state of Texas. The Queen of Spain sent it with Martin DeLeon, and you can verify that on his Wikipedia page. So we are very fortunate to have this.”
Memories, love, labor, collaboration, and sacrifice dot the landscape of this venue, a place so new but seemingly nostalgic; you have to experience it to understand.
If you drive West on Highway 67 and cross the Brazos River via a small, reed-plagued bridge, there's a sprawling hotel quaintly nestled in a clearing, surrounded by Pecan trees.
The plot hides in plain sight on the outskirts of Glen Rose, a popular migratory spot for Fort Worthians looking for a river-side art district with surprising ties to Elvis Presley, killer antiques without the drive to Round Top, and fossilized dinosaur tracks leading to the most substantial biscuits in Texas.
The venue cantina, across from the Hendrick Arnold Bluff, showcases...hand-crafted Dalle de Verre stained glass by local artist Cody Stromberg that mimics the area sunsets, a well-known muse.
Stromberg's efforts culminated in the chapel, Casa del Rey, or “The House of the King.”
Stromberg's vision of the scene starts above the chapel dais, where a glass sphere radiates red and emerald behind an iron cross.
The panels of colorful glass continue from the dais, lining the chapel walls and filling the room with emerald and ruby light.
The crowns at the bottom of the panels symbolize the world's kings throwing their symbols of authority at God's feet.
