Nudist camps no place for boobs

Halifax Daily News
Sept. 18, 1985

A breast is just like an elbow, says a Halifax man recently enlightened by his experience in a nudist colony. It’s just another part of the body.

Our informant, a middle-aged businessman in metro, asked us to withhold his name. We’ll call him Bob.

Married for 25 years, Bob and his wife had become jaded vacationers, travelling through Europe and the Caribbean to various tourist spots. But 18 months ago on a vacation in London, Bob heard about a vacation spot where clothes are optional.

“It intrigued me. I asked my wife if she’d like to go.”

They left immediately for Cap d’Agde, a resort in southern France that includes four apartment buildings, banks, retail stores and several miles of sandy beach.

They arrived on a chilly day in May, she says, so most tourists were wearing clothes and everything looked normal.

But the sun rose in a a clear sky the next morning and Bob confessed to a feeling of trepidation before venturing outside their apartment. “I suppose it was something like jumping into cold water.”

He took the plunge, steppping out in his birthday suit and ran straight into his next-door neighbour. She was a beautiful lady in her 50s,said Bob, clad in nothing more than a smile.

His wife came out a moment later wearing only her high heeled shoes.

In the week that followed Bob learned some intersting things about human behaviour.

“You get real close to people. I can’t explain it — I don’t know why.

“When you take it all away you’re left looking at the person. There could be a millionaire and a pauper talking together, but you’d never know. They’re just two human beings.”

There were no sexual overtones, says Bob, and this gave a more human dimension to ordinary encounters. “One day I was looking for a grocery store and I met this gorgeous girl. But all I wanted to do was find this grocery store and all she was doing was giving me directions.”

This new-found innocence disappointed some peopel. “One beautiful model said she’d never come back again. She said nobody paid any attention to her.

“If you saw that girl on a textile beach (that’s what nudists called beaches where people wear clothes) you’d follow her with your eyes. You might say she had a cute bum or was well stacked. On a naturist beach you’d find yourself looking at her eyes and listening to her voice.

“You judge people by their character, not there bodies. As for pretty girls, when you’ve seen one, you’ve seen ’em all.”

Even in banks customers go naked, he says. “At least you know they’re not carrying concealed weapons.”

Staff there and in retail stores wore clothes, he says, but customers are expected in the buff, even in cloting stores where no changing rooms are provided. “There’s nothing to take off— you’re putting it all on,” says Bob. “After a week, clothes feel constricting.”

Bob says the three-mile beach was nude for about two-thirds its length with more modest bathers from outside the community confined to one end of it. There was no fence around the resort but the placement of roads and buildings discouraged access by onlookers.

You could walk from one beach to another but you’d have to have a reason for being there.”

Bob and his wife enjoyed their two-week vacation so much they booked a two-week stay at the naturist Paradise Lakes Resort in Florida through Continental Travel, of Halifax. Other travel agents also offer naturist tours.

Nudist resorts are no cheaper than normal ones, he said, but you don’t need as much spending money. Naturists are seldom tempted away by local tourist attractions and as long as they’re naked they don’t have pockets to put money in.