Luxurious Pool at Miami's Doral Golf and Spa Resort

When I first suggested a family spa vacation to my two boys, aged 23 and 21, their reaction was swift. "No way, not me," my eldest piped up. "I'm not going to wander around half-naked in a towel or robe." (I wondered if he'd been watching too many Hugh Hefner TV specials.) But my younger, more reflective son was interested. "Sure," he said. "Count me in."

So we grabbed my 20-year-old daughter who was keen from the start, and jetted off to Miami for our first family spa holiday.

There, the Doral Golf Resort and Spa, a tropical 650-acre oasis of waterpark, championship golf courses and tennis courts contained a spa that had recently lowered the minimum age for some treatments to 14.

They welcomed young people, and even better, had been declared among the Top Ten spas in the world by Conde Nast Traveler.

The property also provided a virtual water world of cascading waterfalls, plunge pools waterslide and recreated beach should the heat either in or outside the spa become too intense.

TWENTY QUESTIONS?

Nevertheless, on the way up the steps to the Mediterranean-style spa, past the stone statues and fountains, as Dustin dripped water from a pair of swim trunks under his robe, he asked The Question. The same question that no doubt all first-time male spa goers ask -- no matter what age.

"Uh mom, for my massage, should I be wearing anything under my robe?"

Hmm, that was a tough one. After thinking for a moment, I thought of a clue.

Palm trees at the Doral Golf and Spa Resort

"Do you sleep in anything -- like pajamas?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Well then, don't wear anything. You'll be more relaxed," I suggested. "And don't worry, they'll be very professional," I reassured, before we stepped into The Spa at Doral's soaring atrium entrance.

There were other reasons for bringing my two grown children to this Miami-based spa palace. Just a short taxi ride away was one of the wildest, coolest neighbourhoods they might ever encounter -- South Beach, the southern end of Miami Beach where anything goes.

Just like them, residents could stay awake all night and did, regularly.

Cars vroomed past the Art Deco hotels on Ocean Drive looking for club action.

Girls wearing cowboy hats, bikini tops and holsters filled with gin bottles offered shots.

Along the boardwalk, surfers and evangelists mingled with guys in feather boas and matrons in leopard skin carrying lap dogs.

It was a scene that we could explore together. Not exactly the quality family time recommended by parenting magazines, but memorable nonetheless.

SILENT TREATMENTS

With over 100 spa treatments and services, from Total Body Fango (skin remineralization straight from Italy) to Thai Massage and Tarot readings, it was difficult to choose treatments.

Dustin went for traditional Swedish massage (also recommended for pregnant women in the second and third trimester!).

Natalie chose Stone Therapy, where heated stones were placed on Shakra points and between her toes.

As for me, I opted for the De-Stress Aromatherapy Massage. Aromatic essential oils would "calm the mind and body." Very essential indeed.

Dressed in our plush terry robes, we set out to explore the facilities.

As a male, Dustin was not alone.

About 25-30% of clients were men.

One could see them in and out of their robes -- by the pool, in the spa gym, under the waterfalls or setting off for the nude sundeck upstairs. (Women have their own deck in the female zone).

There was even one treatment for golfers who flocked to the resort for PGA Championships.

The Blue Monster Massage was a revitalizing 80-minute sports massage intended to reduce muscle soreness in the entire body. Yes, this was a good place for a young man's first spa experience.

"People come from all over," said Nora as she rubbed oil into my hair and neck and replaced heated towels. "Many, even Americans, find out about us at the European spas when they are travelling."

After a rigorous massage and a wash off in yet another whirlpool, I was a new person.

"Nice," said Natalie emerging from her hot rock treatment.

"Great," declared Dustin. No problems. His masseur had used towels to cover up throughout.

Inbetween swims around the property, rides in a bicycle surrey around the golf course and lying in filtered sun under the trees, we headed to South Beach to watch surfers take their last waves in the evening glow.

We toasted our spa holiday with Retro-Tini martinis and Oreo and mint ice cream sundaes alongside the beautiful people in cut-out dresses and Go-Go boots.

But despite this changing film scene, my two appreciated the more natural delights of Miami -- from the sunset at the beach to the natural grass floor growing at Tantra restaurant.

Checking out after two days of spaaing and beaching, Dustin pointed to a large sign in the lobby advertising a sister property.

"Hey mom, look," said Dustin, "This place was voted best family island vacation. Next time, let's go there."

We all peered at the photo of a castle-like hotel.

"And it has a spa too," my son added. Well it just might be another swift decision.