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The summer trip to the sea is finally over. Yes, finally. Can you imagine being on an island – that is – a chunk of land surrounded by the sea – with no beaches allowing nude swimming? It’s like being at the cinema and being required to look at the floor instead of the screen, allowing you only to hear the movie.

Sure, there was a nudist beach. It was at the other end of the island. To get to it meant driving through heavy traffic a distance that takes about 30 minutes without traffic, then paying a parking ticket to the local firefighters and then driving another couple of kilometers on a dusty crushed gravel and jutting rock road to a nook in the thorny underbrush in the woods consisting mostly of trees with spiky tree trunks and spiky leaves, and then after a few more minutes of walking, finally arriving at the rocky beach that nobody’s cleaned of garbage and half-eaten half-rotten fruit and sandwiches for years, and the only thing that makes it a nudist beach are three letters painted with a paintbrush on a rock that’s about half the size of the entire beach – “FKK”. And yes, the dripping paint makes the letters look like they’re taken out of a horror movie.

Did I mention that beach is not even officially a nudist beach? Well, it isn’t. It’s just a place where the sea touches the land (rock) and someone is using that touching point as a beach, with that someone being a nudist most of the time. Nobody is taking care of it – ever, as it would seem – and it’s usually occupied.

You’d at least think that the local firefighters who are getting quite the sum of money from these parking tickets (did I say that there really isn’t any parking, just some space in the thorny underbrush, just big enough to squeeze a car or two, sporadically placed along the dusty crushed gravel and jutting rock road?), would clean the place up of garbage. I mean, the stuff’s quite flammable and it seems to have gotten to the point where it’s literally choking plant life which – even such as it is – does act to cool the place down a notch. It seems, however, that that’s not happening. Maybe the firefighters want some real action (as if they don’t get enough elsewhere).

All that said, I think it safe to say that there were no nudist beaches anywhere nearby.

So, what does a nudist like me do in such a situation? Take off his clothes and scream and protest against such oppression at the town square? As much fun as that would be, being sent into the asylum afterwards would be a problem.

The good thing about this trip was that it wasn’t (entirely) a vacation for me. I got to spend some time alone in our apartment and work from there. As a programmer this is quite possible for me – and turns out quite productive too. And there’s no programming like programming naked. As fun as that is, it does get quite boring eventually, so by the end I’d sometimes completely forget to take my clothes off!

Now, don’t get me wrong. My wife generally has no problem with me walking around the house – or in this case apartment – naked. It’s just that when she feels that I could be seen by someone, she’s very uncomfortable and wants me to put on clothes. And the scenarios she describes sometimes sound to me as if there are people constantly watching at every odd angle through every imaginable hole, including those beneath doors and those of ventilation.

And that’s what a nudist without a nudist beach is. Just a naked guy going about his business, putting on clothes only so as to spare other people the sight they so dread seeing. Maybe there’s just something nasty about photons that bounce off someone’s groin that I just don’t see? Could it be that my astigmatic eyes are filtering that nastiness out somehow, even when I’m wearing glasses?

I don’t suppose I’ll ever know, because people are mostly quite unwilling to discuss photons bouncing off other people’s groins.

The one reason I didn’t blog is because my days were “busier” than usual. I became a dad back in May and I could easily juggle everything before we went to the sea because, well, we don’t go to the beach every afternoon when we’re home. I wanted to spend more time with my family. It was for my newborn son and my wife that we went at all, so I wanted the most of it, leaving me no time for blogging.

Now we’re back home I’ll resume my blogging and I have some topics ready. One of them concerns the change of this blog’s tag line to “In touch with nature from head to toe”. So, what can I say? Stay tuned – this blog isn’t dead, it was just sleeping through summer while my brain was boiling at temperatures reaching 40 °C.

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