Jimbo's

Ramshackle province of a loveably lecherous old shrimper, who has somehow managed to park his rowdy affair on public land for the last 50 years. Folks arrive by car or boat, drink the cheap cans of soda or beer, fend off feral cats and friendly dogs for a handful of smoked fish and play bocce ball. Sometimes bands, sometimes naked women. More often toothless old men with anecdotes. Even South Beach slums here, but brings its own Cliquot. Remember your fly-swatter: mosquito attacks can turn the perfect getaway into an irritable afternoon.