Sign up to Simon Calder’s free travel email for expert advice and money-saving discounts

Get Simon Calder’s Travel email

I’m no stranger to public nudity. I’ve been a gay adult man for long enough to have visited my share of nude beaches and bath houses. I’ve practised stripped-down yoga and organised skinny-dips, and spent enough time in Scandinavia to fully embrace naked sauna culture. It’s not that I’m a naturist, I just love experiencing everything that life has to offer – and sometimes that just so happens to involve taking your clothes off with strangers.

Clothing-optional hotels, however, are something new to me. For years I’ve heard stories about the nude resorts out in the desert playground of Palm Springs, California, a place that seemed like a veritable paradise for nudists. My curiosity finally got the better of me.

I didn’t know what to expect when I approached the gates of Descanso, a nudist resort for men tucked away on an otherwise unremarkable desert road in the north of Palm Springs. Thick vines curl along its walled perimeter, and frosted glass prevents any onlookers from peering in. Though it’s billed as “serene, comfortable and effortlessly sophisticated”, I was dubious, because in my experience nudity and sophistication seldom go hand in hand. I was promised luxury, but I couldn’t help but imagine disposable bedlinen and wipe-clean plastic furniture.

Were the gates about to open to reveal an Achillean fantasy born of the hedonism of ancient Greece? Would there be poolside gangbangs and orgies in the hot tub? Or perhaps something markedly more tame, more civilised? Would the staff be naked too? Were clothes forbidden or just frowned upon? Should I start undressing right there on the doorstep? I had so many questions.

Read more on USA travel:

The decorative iron gate swung open and I was greeted by the exuberant hotel manager, who was indeed fully clothed. Well dressed, in fact, as I later came to learn seems to be true of everyone who lives in Palm Springs. He walked me through the resort, and I was instantly taken aback by how immaculate it was. The sleek, mid-century Modernist design evokes the feel of a secret 1960s garden, and I was surprised by its sophistication.

I spotted a few guys lounging poolside in various states of undress. A couple in their thirties were sitting, nude, at the edge of the heated pool, while an older gentleman took a naked swim. But not everyone was in their birthday suit: there were Speedos aplenty, a couple of guys in matching pastel-coloured shirts, and a younger guy wearing nothing but a silver chain around his waist as he strolled towards the hot tub.

Complimentary glasses of sparkling wine were poured, and hummingbirds playfully darted back and forth between the citrus trees. The whole aesthetic is that of a Slim Aarons photograph brought to life. They’ve taken the concept of a clothing-optional resort, and made it feel like something exclusive: a high-class members’ club that nobody knows about. One where most people just happen to be naked.

I checked into my room and slipped out of my clothes before stepping back out onto the cool concrete of the exterior corridor. It felt unnatural to walk out into the open air completely naked – as if I was doing something completely insane – but I tried to embrace the feeling, walking with faux confidence as I approached the staircase down to where the other guests were sitting by the pool.

I saw this as my opportunity for a grand entrance, but as I descended the stairs, nobody even batted an eyelid. You’d think it almost offensive to have your naked body greeted with so much indifference – but actually, it was exactly the welcome I needed.

It didn’t take me long to settle in after that. Friendly smiles quickly turned into conversation and, before I knew it, I was on a first-name basis with everyone. I don’t know if it’s the act of being nude in itself – or perhaps just the good Palm Springs air – but I soon began to feel a real, almost tangible sense of community.

Within just a couple of hours, I had multiple invitations to go out for dinner and drinks. I got tips on the best hiking trails and the best queer boutiques, and I was even told about a naked midnight walk that happens every full moon. (I did wonder at the wisdom of that, though. I’d seen the rocky trails on my way in, and even spotted a signpost warning of rattlesnakes. I think I’d rather keep my underwear on for that one.)

Come the next morning, I was so comfortable that I strode out of my room stark naked to greet the day – and my fellow guests.

Rather embarrassingly, I hadn’t realised there was an unspoken rule that clothes are worn to breakfast. Suddenly, I was the only naked person. I pretended to have forgotten something – well, half-pretended, because I had indeed forgotten my clothes – and disappeared back to get dressed.

During my stay at Descanso, I kept waiting for the scandalous side of the resort to reveal itself, but it never did. I crept out of my room one night at 3am, secretly hoping to find something a little wilder. Instead, all I found was some very civilised conversation by the firepit. I sat in something gooey on one of the sun loungers the next day, only to discover it was my own leaky sunscreen and not, in fact, some misplaced bodily fluids.

Next I visited Twin Palms, Descanso’s sister resort on the southern side of Palm Springs, trading secret garden vibes for open rocky mountain views and a decidedly younger-feeling resort. There’s colourful artwork, with tasteful male nudes scattered around the reception, and palm trees jutting out between bright yellow sunbeds and umbrellas. Some of the guests at Descanso had told me that the clientele at Twin Palms was a “little less well behaved”. But, aside from a couple I spotted getting a little handsy in the hot tub after the sun had set, it all felt, for the most part, incredibly civilised.

What I did find, though, was a deeper connection to my surroundings. One morning I thought it would be nice to take a shower by the pool with the sun on my skin, and I was able to do it without worrying about traumatising the other hotel guests.

I had thought these resorts were about exhibitionism, but now I think they’re about something ultimately more wholesome. There’s a vulnerability in being naked that causes people to open up, be kinder, and treat one another as equals. More than anything else, it feels natural, and I learnt that this connection between nature and the human body is rooted deeply in local culture.

During my stay, I visited The Spa at Séc-he, a luxury spot built around one of the natural springs from which the city gets its name. Located on the Agua Caliente Native American reserve, the hot springs pump out water that has been bubbling beneath the desert for more than 12,000 years. The water is said to be both healing and transformative, and getting to experience this felt quintessential to a Palm Springs stay. I was surprised to find that I’d be doing this naked, too.

Guests are given a time slot to experience the springs privately, and so I once again stripped nude before plunging myself into the warm, nutrient-rich waters. You can’t get much closer to nature than that.

My whole outlook on Palm Springs has changed. Though there will always be some who are looking for the racier side of life, I think people come to these nude resorts not for cheap thrills, but for something far more meaningful. Adam Robinson, general manager of Twin Palms, told me that the resorts are “a chance for people to connect, to give them the opportunity to relax and be free without judgement”. My experience was exactly that. By leaving my clothes in the hotel room, I left behind some of my inhibitions. I learnt to be a little more vulnerable, and in turn left with my soul feeling lighter, my spirit freer.

I only wish I had been able to take a little bit of that nudist sentiment back with me to the UK. That said, there is a naked bike ride every year in London. If you don’t want to see my white bits, maybe keep your curtains drawn when I cycle by your window come August.

Travel essentials

Getting there

No airlines fly direct from the UK to Palm Springs, but you can find connecting flights on a wide range of carriers including American Airlines, British Airways, Delta, Virgin Atlantic, JetBlue, United and WestJet. Alternatively, Palm Springs is just a two-hour drive from Los Angeles, with airlines such as Virgin Atlantic offering daily direct flights to LAX.

Staying there

Descanso Resort

Twin Palms Resort

Read more on the best hotels in California

Read More