Nude Camping and More Stories of a Newfound Nudist

Now the Revolution!

It’s enjoyable to say the least. Alive with the present moment and spontaneous upon these adventures, I indubitably decided to join the scores of old wrinkly nudists from around the globe. I shed my red REI boxer briefs and became a part of the skin, sun, sand, and yes—the freedom!—revolution. Hallelujah!
Yes, enjoyable, but in the beginning, cautious. Talk about bare-butt white, one has to be sure not to lie out for too long. But what beats all prospects of attaining a sore-full crispness with a sensitive pink tone is to swim through the cresting seas naked. Being the clarity of bathwater tinted with that deepening turquoise as the sandy shallows recede to their depths, a swim with such weightlessness and buoyancy matched with the salinity of that of the eyes is indescribable. Pushed by the current, slapped by the tall capillary waves, your whole body moves and flows unobstructed. It’s like showering in space, fully immersed in bathwater; cleansing to the skin, the joints, the muscles and tissues. Top of the list!
Back on land, four geese peruse the beach; two white, two grey. They’re like the silent sentry in for an all-day peepshow with free scraps of food. Together, often in single file, they waddle up and down and through the rows of lounge chairs clucking and quacking at the bodies they pass. It’s as though the four geese are commenting, rating the bare human forms. One squawks. The other reciprocates, shouting loudly, waking the sleepy nudist.
Home base is shared with the geese under the shelter of the cypress tree. It’s near a constant freshwater shower tapped into a nearby river. With all of us, they seem to gaze at the bodies rinsing salt from their swim. Women and men shower themselves as if they were in the privacy of their homes. Likewise, couples anoint sunscreen upon one another, some glowing with a lover’s touch. Others seem not so personal, giving the observant philosophizer a glimpse into the passion of life they share with one another.

Sexless

But it’s not about sex nor does it carry the weight of sexual interest. There is none of this energy on the beach, and believe me, coming from an individual with the practice of celibacy for a steady three years and counting. It is neither arousing to be there, nor is it absent of the beauty of the human figure. In fact, it’s all the latter. People are full of self-confidence, assured by their beauty, and more and more as I look and be within this environment (living within it 24 hours a day) I see the body as a suit of flesh, skin, blood and form in which it is. Within is where the magic of beauty, of something deeper than sex. It is sexless and solely founded in a pure Love for being human, being an earthling infatuated with this experience. And together, we’re a part of it, with whatever we have been given, with whatever we have created. We are here together, and so we share this with one another without a sense of pride or shame. You have it. I’ve got it. This Love is within this Life of ours.
When I find myself away from this environ, I catch a fleeting sense of homesickness. It’s enthralling; captivating to be in an open quality of comfort and self-confidence. I myself bask bare on my stomach or be it the back, and rise to walk the beach, swim, gather things from inside my tent, or talk to those around me. We come to discover we’re from everywhere; Germany, Austria, England, the States, cities from around Greece, Italy, Spain and Canada. We’re here to be with ourselves, to be with everyone else, with all our distinctions, tattoos, piercings, sizes and circumferences. I’m naked. We’re naked—more naked than the geese and the fee collector wandering to each lounge chair.

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