Two scenes from real life to relate this morning, neither of which I can really portray in SL.



The first is three generations of family by the pool. Grandmother, mother and two children.

I can only assume that Grandmother has maybe been naturist for much of her adult life, and it’s something she taught to her daughter, who in turn is passing it to her small children. What joy grandmother has brought into her daughter and grandchildren by being so open, and passing on the simple pleasures of naturism. Such a natural and loving scene!

The second thing I’d like to share this morning is an observation about how naturism makes you younger. Fresh air, exercise, healthy eating…all aid this to give you a feel good factor. But one of the adjacent apartments has a middle aged couple in it. I watched this morning as both came back from the beach, fully nude, and then began towelling themselves down before dressing on their balcony, obviously to get into the car and go out.

Nude, they looked youthful, full of energy and life. As their clothes went on, I reasoned that the layers began to age them both, and whereas nude they appeared full of vigour, dressed they were suddenly drab, the lady appearing ‘Mumsy’ and sad, the gentleman appear dressed in a style away beyond his years.

When they returned with shopping, both came out onto the balcony once more and stripped. As if by magic, a decade or more fell from their ages.

There’s a lesson there. It’s often said that the cares disappear with the clothes. In this couple’s case -in all of our cases- the clothes and the years get stripped away.


Beach promenading



With the sea closed for bathing, a morning ‘promenade’ of the naturist beach is the first action of the day. Sylvia and I were heading down to the beach earlier when we ran into neighbours from a few apartments away. I don’t often appear to be in the resort at the same time as this Dutch couple, who speak excellent English, but they’ve been here this week and of course Sylvia has been happy to chat away to them.

When we reached the beach Sylvia and Sanne, the wife of the couple, decided that cafe con leche, milky coffee, was preferable to a stroll, leaving Johannes and myself to walk to the naturist beach’s boundary. Cheeky Sylvia also snapped the photo (above) as we headed off, and others as we returned…but I’m not going to post those! 🙂

It should provide a sense of the unspoilt naturist beach here, though.


Yoga in nature

Being pale northern Europeans, prone to burn under fierce sun, my routine is to take it slowly. Yes, it’s counter-intuitive to fly all this way for the sun, then keep out of it, but it’s important not to damage the skin, so I tend to take a ‘two days on, 1 day off’ approach to the beginning of each holiday. Of course it’s impossible to completely refrain from being exposed to it, but today has been the day where the swimming pool has been our exposure to it, in short bursts, and then mostly in the shade thereafter.yoga_001b

It’s also the day when I find that the excitement of a holiday finally catches up with me. There’s a sea to swim in, pools to enjoy, beaches to walk, all as nature intended, and it’s a case of pushing things. Day three is the great collapse…a couple of late nights…too much to drink 😉 …the sapping heat of the sun… so it’s the day of rest and recovery.


I did venture onto the terrace where I did spot a mature woman, maybe around 50 years of age and in perfect shape, in the urbanisation next door, doing a yoga routine on the grass. It was a sublime scene. A communion with nature, in nature. Perfect.

This is why I’m a naturist. In harmony with the world around us, like so many others who enjoy the lifestyle.



Fire dancing



After our swim I spotted some friends, so I’m marked with an ‘x’, talking to them



The same friends, also keen St.Juan’s skinny-dippers, follow us back up the beach follow the midnight dip (four people, two groups of two, heading for their clothes)


The shadowy figure just beyond the fire is me 🙂


One of the advantages of coming back to the same place again and again is that you get to know people who know people 🙂 We’ve been able to borrow some cabling in order to access our photos. Hardly worth the wait…as they’re drunken blurry photos and, thankfully maybe, I’m not properly visible in the ones above (or any others…it was one of those nights where shaky hands ensured blurry photos. Still, they hopefully capture a bit of the midnight atmosphere last night.




Meanwhile back in rainy old England….

pookes carola skirt_001b


I’m not jealous, Sylvia and Ella. No, not one bit!

It’s sunny and warm today back in the UK, but nothing as lovely as Spain, I expect.

I have been giving thought to my own wardrobe for my own holiday later in the summer, and the Carola skirt, a free gift at Addams (sourced via SL Freebies & More) is the source of skirt many ladies wear to the beach, removing it the instant they get there.

I prefer not to have to cover up, but many ladies do, even briefly. So if this is your sort of ‘to the beach’ wear, check out the link.


You know what I was saying about ‘not back to the 70s’? Hold that thought!

Sylvia and I have been lazing around the pool today, popping in and out of the water as it periodically became too hot to sit in the sun anymore.

Sylvia remarked as a woman approached the pool area, ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to wear anything in the pool’.

‘That’s right’, I replied, ‘full nudity is expected’.

‘She has bikini briefs on’, Sylvia continued.

Except…she didn’t! It was a full-on 1970s bush.

intimate garden_001B

This reminded me that, prior to using ‘Nearly Tactile’, I wore ‘Initimate Garden’, which is still available on the Marketplace, for those who might like to adopt that 70s look.



How drunk did I get, Sylvia?

Oh, my goodness! 😦

How drunk was I?

I don’t really get drunk. I like a glass of wine (singular) with a meal from time to time. We sometimes pop open a bottle on a Friday night while I’m logged in and we enjoy Sunshine’s ‘world music’ at Commune Utopia. So that’s a couple of glasses at most, enough to make me ‘tiddly’. That’s my limit. I don’t go beyond it.


I’ve also done St. Juan’s night before and certainly run naked into the sea at midnight, like so many other people, many of whom would not identify themselves as naturist. But it’s a big night in this part of the world, and there is much drinking and partying going on.

I’m repeating myself in what I’m about to say, but it’ll save you prowling the archives…at midnight, on St Juan’s night, you throw a pebble over your shoulder into the sea, turn around three times and then walk backwards, naked, into the sea and your wishes will be fulfilled.

I’ve done it in the past. I did it again last night. However (the Sylvia influence!) we ended up in a hippy beach bar with a band, world music and reggae playing on the sound system, the heady odour of ganja in the air, and very strong Mojitos!

Bonfires are also lit right along the beach.

As they die down, people run and jump over them. Sometimes naked people run and jump over them. I’ve no idea if jumping over the fire provides an extra layer of luck, dressed or naked, but lots do it.

And this year….yikes!!!…drunk!!!…it was my turn! Naked.

As I say, I’ve previously undressed and taken a midnight dip, but as soon as I’m out, the clothes go back on. This year was so very different it’s almost as if it wasn’t me.

On exiting the sea we (Sylvia was in too) decided not to dress. We weren’t alone. There were a few naturists (or non-naturists who’d simply gone naked, it’s very much a time for greatly diminished inhibitions even by non-naturists) at each bonfire on the beach. So far, so good.

We weren’t dressed in much to begin with. Just sun dresses we could throw off and on, in anticipation of our midnight dip. Sylvia says I simply handed her my dress and then I ran and jumped over the fire!

I wasn’t alone. Others were doing that too, so at least I have the knowledge that this wasn’t an entirely solo performance.




The sign on the beach says it all…’Paradise, 0 kms’

Sylvia took photos. When I wandered back over to where she was she handed me the clothes, instructed me to take photos (I was still unaware she’d taken photos of me at this point) and leapt over the dying fire herself while I snapped away.

I’ve seen the photos this morning. Blurred in some, and taken on my digital compact. Unfortunately I’ve forgotten to bring the cable that connects the camera to the computer with me, so I can’t upload any of these until I get home.

Still, the bonfire photos should (eventually) give you a flavour of how it was on St. Juan’s night. To replicate the events of last night, I’ve done one (at Su Casa) to capture an SL replicated flavour of it all. I have to say the flamenco music was excellent and went beyond 100am. By the time we left, still naked and now in a strict minority of two, the party was still in full swing.

ella bonfire st juan_001b

This morning, I’m a bit hungover (a relatively rare, and certainly not recent experience) but also a bit, secretly thrilled to have done something like that.

We’re not off to the sea for our early morning dip this morning. Only after we exited the sea were we informed there was an algae bloom in the water, with no swimming permitted until Saturday, because it causes respiratory issues and cold-like symptoms. So if I’m not posting next week, or later this week, you know it’s because I’ve been laid low by sickness