Postcard from Spain : Day 6


Yes! It’s the ceiling of our apartment 😦


And that’s all I saw yesterday. Before those of you with dirty minds think ‘oh, yes?’ I should make it clear that I was laid exceptionally low by one of those 24 hour tummy bugs (or a bout of food poisoning) yesterday. Despite temperatures in the upper mid-20s, I spent the day shivering, under the bedcovers, and feeling wretched.

Fingers crossed, no one else in the family has so far suffered with it, but one of the children had something similar the week before we came out here.

I feel better this morning, but was laid low and felt cold, tired and weak all day yesterday, to the extent that the photo really does represent all I saw yesterday.


Hopefully, some better news and views will follow today.


Postcard from Spain : Day 5(2)

Although this is getting published on ‘day 6’, it stands on the cusp of day 5/6, as at midnight, as promised, there were random acts of nudity taking place.

The tradition runs that you write your mother’s name on a piece of paper, then walk backwards into the sea naked at midnight. 🙂

Well…of course I had to do it!!!!

And it has one of those rare occurrences in which there are photographs of me, lol, certainly so ill-defined that I’ll quite happily post them (probably next week when I get home and claim them off the camera card. Thanks to the passing teenage nude couple who cheerfully took my camera and did the clicking for me.

Oh yes, there was something remarkably communally spirited about the whole event, with several teenage to certainly 50s-odd people, from what I saw, as far as I could see under a perigee moon, communally naked and happy. 

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Ella walks backwards, naked, into the sea at midnight on the festival of St Juan


This post is dedicated to the memory of Helena ‘Keng’


Postcard from Spain: Day 5 (1)

I’m writing this in the very early hours of September 23rd, the festival of St Juan in Andalusia (and elsewhere around the globe).

Tonight there will be fireworks and bonfires lit, and the place has certainly taken on a party vibe. Drawn to the music coming from a nearby beach-bar, a chiringuito, I found a lot of young people undertaking a weird hybrid of flamenco and bhangra. Music for dancing? You bet.

Some semi-nudity was in evidence amongst topless girls (which in this part of Spain barely qualifies as nudity), and at the chiringuito I visited a young guy who spoke good English said the bonfires would be lit at midnight, a lot of alcohol would be consumed and, yes indeed, full nudity was not beyond the boundaries of possibility.


Sadly, because of our domestic arrangements, it means that the RL Mr. Keng and I will have to attend this, not more than 200m from our apartment, in relay, rather than together, as a bit of midnight communal nudity and skinny dipping under a coincidental super moon sounds like it would be one of the great memories of life.

I wasn’t sure whether to hold back on today’s ‘postcard’ until it was all over, but I’ve opted to post this at breakfast time (in Europe) and then see what madness unfolds over the course of the day.

I look forward to it all.


Postcard from Spain : Day 4(2)

We walked back along the beach from our evening meal at a nearby restaurant. The sun had almost gone, but the Spanish like to squeeze the last out of the sun’s rays each day, and you’ll often see a few hardy souls in the rapidly descending night still enjoying the last of the beach.

So it was tonight. A naked family, Mum, Dad, and two daughters in the sea. There was also an older man, who hadn’t gone into the water, and I’m guessing he was Grandpa.

Last year, it seemed to me that shaving, for women, was resolutely ‘out’, but it seems this time around that it’s ‘in’.

Older and younger women alike, the razor has been out in force, and natural looking women are thin on the ground. But as she emerged from the sea and tugged a tank top on, ‘Mum’ turned and demonstrated that the razor is not a part of her bathroom routine.

I can’t, for several reasons, pose a family, so I searched through my wardrobe to replicate what I saw. The beach Mum’s tank top was yellow, but other than that, this is close to the scene I saw as Mum walked to the water’s edge, telling her daughters it was time to come out of the water.

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Naturist ‘Swingers’

Thankfully, there isn’t much evidence of naturist ‘swingers’ around the globe, as the two things are largely mutually exclusive.

Of course, that’s not to say that no such places exist, Cap D’Agde (France) springs to mind, maybe Hedonism in the Carribean, but I suspect that almost without exception it’s ‘swingers’ using naturism to legitimise their presence.

Can you imagine if someone tried to start a ‘swingers resort’? There would be some opposition. What has happened is that ‘swingers’ have latched onto genuine naturism for their own purposes. It wouldn’t be my thing, and I’m resentful of naturism being associated with such things, but I have to acknowledge that they do exist.

I received a group notice earlier today announcing a new location ‘Amigos Swingers’ had opened up. Hispanic by language, I popped over there to check it out, and there are certainly a copious amount of sex pose balls around. I didn’t look around in depth, as it really falls outside our remit for ‘genuine’ naturism, but I thought you might like the link anyway.

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Postcard from Spain : Day 4(1)

I went down to the beach earlier, and followed a middle-aged couple from their apartment all the way to the sea. The photo isn’t quite accurate, in that they were both wearing sun hats and carrying beach umbrellas and bags for what looks like it was going to be a day on the playa.

The woman wore bikini briefs all the way to the beach, but shortly after setting up ‘camp’ for the day she stripped them off. Sometimes, it seems, naturists, particularly women, do like to cover up a little on the trip to and from the beach, and will don a pair of bikini briefs or a sarong.

I do this myself, sometimes. It’s as though we do feel the need for a little cover-up on the route to the beach. Thereafter, of course, we’re quite happy getting naked.

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Postcard from Spain : Day 3(3)

The afternoon clouded over a little, so much so that we’ve come indoors and I’ve popped on a ‘grandad’ style shirt over a T shirt in order to keep warm!

Earlier, before these thin, wispy clouds gathered (still enough to take the edge of the sun and the heat) I went for a walk. And through a hedge was another ‘granny’ type, German judging by the conversation she was having with an unseen, unidentified male. Husband, in all likelihood.

This ‘granny’, in the brief glimpse I saw of her, had an aura of being an absolute beauty in her youth. Sadly, society never often attributes ‘beauty’ to an older woman. ‘Handsome’ is often the best she can manage. It’s rather sad, as today seems to have been a day of observing older and lovely looking ladies.

I found myself thinking about how this woman got into naturism. Being German, did she always have that easy-going relationship with nudity all Germans seem to have? Does she invite her grand-children to her apartment in Spain, to have three generations of naturists on the beach together?



Not fully nude, I could just about spot, through the hedge, that she was wearing a pair of white panties or bikini briefs, so I’ve posed this accordingly.

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And here’s the scene on our balcony, just about now!!! 🙂

That’s it for today, I think. We’re having a nap soon to refresh us for the evening ahead, and entertainment in the nearby bars.


Postcard from Spain: Day 3(2)

We have French neighbours, a lovely, outgoing couple whom we know extremely well. And while we’re back at our apartment, having a ‘siesta’, they’re entertaining another French couple for lunch.

The differences between the French and British approach to eating could not be more stark!

While we nibble on sandwiches, our neighbours cook a full meal, and then occupy themselves with conversation and a bottle of wine for a couple of hours.

Our children have collapsed into their beds, exhausted by the heat, so it has been time to enjoy a little time on the balcony, drinking in the marvellous smells that our neighbours conjure up daily.

The quarter on the neighbouring balcony are all in their 60s, and I admit I was a little surprised by the visiting wife’s tattoos.

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Normally, one wouldn’t readily associate tattoos with older women.


Postcard from Spain : Day 3.

It’s the summer solstice today, so I was up early to catch the sunrise over the Med.

Surprisingly, or not, perhaps, I wasn’t alone on the beach. Others had similar thoughts, and I witnessed a guy taking photos of his wife/girlfriend, with the sun rising behind her. And then she took the camera to photograph him similarly.

So we begin the day with a largely unremarkable scene -Harry has photographed these sorts of scenes before- but a lovely one in the context of today’s solstice.



(model: Ella in her ‘Eve’/SLNModel ‘alt’ configuration. location: Eden Naturopolis. photo : Ella)

Postcard from Spain Part Two : Day 2(1)

My, but it’s hot!!!!

Just gone 515am here, people, and I’m already on the balcony because the apartment feels completely airless. Not quite at the point of sunrise yet, as it is in the photo, but we’ll get there in a couple of hours. In the meantime it’s a nice cup of tea for me and, having stepped out of the heat of indoors, there’s a refreshing chill in the air, so I’m actually flitting between having a T shirt on, then off, then on again! 🙂

I do intend to keep you updated on events as our holiday unfolds, and attempt to replicate RL scenes in an SL context, but it will be much later in the day before I get the chance to get another update…maybe late into the evening. And that’s because today isn’t going to be much of a naked day…two small children love the nearby aquapark, and so it’s uncomfortable swimwear on for the short drive (about two minutes drive, actually, but the heat and walk would be too much for the little ones, so we’ll drive) there and find a suitably shaded spot for ‘base camp’. And when we do get back from there it’s even more clothes (shorts and a T shirt, anyway) while I do a little bit of  a shop. We get through generous amounts of water, and bread is always best fresh, not quite keeping fresh, even refrigerated, overnight, so it’ll be an afternoon’s shopping for me. After that, though we’re all set, and I’m sure we’ll try and fit in an evening dip in the Med -or at least time building sandcastles once the heat of the sun has receded once more- later on.

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