Naked Margarita-fuelled pool party, you say? Why the hell not. The Country Club is legendary. A clothing-optional gay club since the seventies, this couldn’t exist just anywhere in America. From the front it looks like a sedate clubhouse; a 19th Century cottage with grand pillars, a nicely kept lawn and couples dining on the veranda. Inside is a spacious restaurant area and a hardwood walk-around bar.

But it’s outback where the real action happens. Pay $15 (bring your own towels and wash products – this ain’t no spa), and welcome to the party. Don’t expect pool party glam, you get every type here and that’s the beauty. An older couple work on their all-over tan on the sun loungers, while a gaggle of hot young things bob in the water, cigarette in one hand, frozen Margarita in the other. Some girl tries to jiggle her boobs to the music and at least half the pool is necking. You could see this either as a STD swamp or a f*cking good time depending on your world view.

The cabana bar keeps the party going with good tunes and cheap drinks. The hot tub is sheltered by some palm fronds (untoward things are said to happen in here after dark) and enter the sauna at your own risk. They say post Katrina revamp things are a lot tamer than they once were, though if this is tame, we’d love to know their idea of wild.

NB. Go on Sunday for the trannie brunch. Trust us.