Going Bare! by John David Harding

Author:John David Harding [Harding, John David]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2012-10-02T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter VII: Tuesday

Our first full day on the park had to start with a traditional French breakfast of croissants and fruit juice so my wife was duly dispatched to the village centre to secure sustenance from the little convenience store that stocked all manner of items, including fresh bread and pastries. My memory of the day before was that the aisles were not overly wide and when I went down with a rucksack on my back had to be careful I didn't send all sorts of things flying, but E duly arrived with the items twenty minutes after she left.

After a quick breakfast we went to the pools – and apart from the laned pool which had a couple of swimmers doing their morning exercise, we were the only people around. The reason was quite obvious the moment we got near the water; I am sure the pools are not heated, but if they are, it is only a very gradual heat and at 10am the Sun had not worked it's magic on the water. It may have been warm enough to wander around with nothing on, but the pool was most definitely cold.

My daughter shrieked and squealed as we walked down the steps to the water and I had to take the plunge and jump straight in. It was a sobering shock to the system as the cold liquid hit our shoulders and with naturism every part of your body feels the full effect of the coldness, with all that that entails.

That said it was refreshing and I got to play in the water with my wife and the children; there is a benefit to being British in that our definition of cold is certainly a few degrees cooler than our European neighbours, as we were the only family around.

Our bodies soon adjusted to the colder-than-usual temperatures and any residues I had of sleepiness evaporated in an instant. After we had spent 45 minutes braving the cold water we had a couple of games on the table tennis tables next to the pool (E is better at it than me) before getting some postcards and then returning to get some lunch in the villa. At this point, with the exception of the shorts and T-Shirt I wore for the meal the night before, I had been nude – apart from my sunhat and footwear – for the previous 24 hours and it just felt natural.

We had planned to spend Tuesday afternoon after lunch on the beach and it was one part of the stay I thought I would not enjoy; I have not enjoyed being on a beach since my parents took me to Jersey when I was around 13. My recollections of most British beaches are that they are cold, dirty and crowded and I thought it would be the same in France.

The beach at La Jenny is outside the park – around half a kilometre away from the centre of the village and the path to it travels along a public right of way.

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