Sylvia and I went onto the roof terrace of our apartment this afternoon and put up a parasol, allowing us to duck in and out of the sun as we saw fit.

We’re overlooking the pool area to the next urbanisation, and both of us were leaning over the wall up there, taking in the traffic passing by. And there, by the pool, sunbathing on the grass was a striking, stunning beautiful young girl in her early 20s, we reckon.

Head shaved to one side, deadlocked at the other, with a deep, all over tan apart from a lighter tone around her lower half which showed us that, when not on a naturist holiday, topless sunbathing is certainly a part of her summer routine. She also had a naturally beautiful and innocent looking face and we both commented on how wonderful it would have been to be that naturally beautiful at that age, the sense of confidence that may well have come with it.

Those in the depth of a depression brought on by my earlier posting and the re-appearance of pubic hair take heart: this girl still maintains a daily routine with a razor.

Ella