Today’s guest blog is a timely one, because I’m away on holiday and hoping to find a suitably secluded beach to get my kit off on, and try to overcome my fear of being naked in public. The reason for that is thanks to people like @pervy_thoughts, who’s with us today to share a glorious guest blog all about the joys of being a nudist: why it’s fun to swim naked, and how to find nudist/naturist hot spots near you. He’s written another fantastic guest blog here before and I’m delighted he’s returned to share more of his experience. So make a cup of tea, whip off your clothes, and get stuck in…
How I became a nudist
Why do we wear clothes? More specifically why do we wear clothes when they serve no useful purpose?
Before I get started I’ll make a definition:
Naturist or nudist – some people will tell you there is a difference. That’s bollocks. It just means people who like to get naked, so I’ll use nudist because I think it is an unambiguous term that everyone should understand. Plus I like it!
A question I get asked a lot is “How did you get into nudism?”
Another one is “Why are you a nudist?”
The facetious answer to the last question is “I don’t have a washing machine…”
To answer the first question we have to go back to the Summer of 1968. (I was 12) My parents liked to go to the beach; Waxham Sands on the North Norfolk coast. (England for those not in England.) It’s a lovely beach, Marram Grass dunes, a beach that’s a mile wide when the tide is out, golden sand, and on a hot sunny day, very crowded.
So Dad decided he did not want to be on the crowded part of the beach so we walked along the beach, lugging wind breaks, bags with a picnic, bucket, spade, all the beach goers paraphernalia. A long walk later and we had the beach almost to ourselves. Further on were more people. Naked people. Inadvertently we had wandered into the nudist beach. Dad and mum were a bit embarrassed and we turned around and walked back until we were surrounded by people in bathing costumes. We did that weird thing with a towel to get undressed and dressed into bathing suits. We had a lovely day on the beach and then we went home.
This encounter with nudists set me thinking. Why do we get dressed in a special garment just to go swimming? It serves no useful purpose. Twelve year old me had not connected naked with sex.
Naked swimming – dipping my toe in the nudist waters
Jump forward to 1977. I had just passed my driving test and acquired a wreck of a car. A mini, 850cc, more rust than paint but it was transport, I could go where I liked.
I liked the beach.
Back at Waxham Sands I made the long trek along the beach. Eventually the people with bathing costumes thinned out to be replaced with naked people. I got undressed and went swimming naked. Swimming naked is brilliant; it’s the only way to swim. Young me hadn’t really thought this through as I didn’t have a towel but no matter – I walked naked along the beach for a while until I was dry. I got dressed and went home.
As nice as the beach was it was a bit of a trek from home, I wondered if there was somewhere nearer to home where I could be naked. I fancied the river.
Jump back in time to my childhood, I remembered the river near Eaton Common, just south of Norwich. A quiet area near the river, sadly now a housing estate.
I drove the short distance to the common. You have to get over the main railway line to London, but once past the death trap it’s very quiet. I wandered around and found a secluded spot, behind some bushes by the river. I was better prepared this time; I had a towel, a blanket, a cushion and a sandwich! Woo hoo!
A very pleasant afternoon indeed, I had a swim. Fresh water swimming is way better than salt water swimming. Grass beats sand, it does not stick to your skin. The only down side was the trains going past, plus it was not particularly private. The odd dog walker disturbed the peace.
There must be something better.
So if it’s not the beach and not the river then where? Looking back I am amazed that I was totally unaware of nudist clubs.
How do you find a nudist club?
Jump forward a few years, by now I was in a steady relationship with Marie, the girl I would eventually marry. We were watching TV and there was a documentary broadcast by the BBC. ‘Let’s Go Naked’. (You can see a clip on YouTube. Warning, Plastic Bertrand and naked people!)
Marie was intrigued, I related the stories as above and she was well up for a visit to a nudist club. In fact she was keener than me. Up until now I had been nonchalant about nudity because for the most part I had been on my own. Suddenly I was about to get naked in public. Would I get an erection? Measure up? Am I too fat or too thin? In fact none of these are a problem because it’s not sexy and there is always someone, fatter, thinner, bigger or smaller than you. But mostly no one cares, we are all human and humans vary, that’s what’s so nice about it.
In the Twenty First Century if you want to find a nudist club you type ‘nudist club’ into Google (other search engines are available but are mostly crap) and there you go, hundreds of thousands of nudist clubs to investigate.
In 1979 it was bit more difficult. It took nearly a year to find one because they didn’t advertise, they were very secret and they were not the sort of thing you’d stumble across by accident…
Except I did!
I was a TV repair man, and I was called to a job at my local nudist club to fix their TV. It was just down the road from my home!
So a short time after I fixed their telly, Marie and I had a visit. We were hooked immediately and became members. After that we spent most of our free time there. Since then, to this day I have been a member of a nudist club. I have visited clubs all over the world. They all have a unique personality: some I liked, and some I didn’t. There are huge resorts with amazing facilities; others are little more than someone’s secluded garden.
If you’re looking to get started, visit the British Naturism site or just do a search – you’ll be spoilt for choice!
The other question I have not answered is ‘Why are you a nudist?’
The truth is I don’t know. It just seems silly to wear clothes when it’s warm and sunny. Swimming naked is lovely. After a while you don’t really notice you’re naked. It’s not sexy. It’s just nice.
And besides: I don’t have a washing machine.