Textile to Nudist

How it all started!
The nice weather in the last few weeks, late Summer 2024, has brought some new visitors to Spielplatz Naturist Resort. And this begs the question, why did you decide to visit a nudist resort and take all your clothes off? Yesterday you were a textile and today you’re a nudist. WHY?

I have a couple of stories to share, that explain, in part, how I discovers nudism.

Way back in the 1960s, my family lived in Norfolk, not far from the beach. When the weather was nice, so about two days each Summer, my parents would make a picnic, bundle the family in the car, and go to the seaside.
The location of choice was Waxham Sands, a nice beach on the coast of Norfolk. I recall this particular occasion, we had walked over the sand dunes onto a very crowded beach. My mother suggested we walked along the beach to find a less crowded spot. We turned right, south, and started walking. Eventually the crowds thinned out and there was a gap in the people, before in the distance we could see more people. We crossed the gap and stopped. We had inadvertently wandered into the nude beach. My parents turned around and walked back to the textile area and we set up for the day with wind breaks, deck chairs, all that paraphernalia the British like to lug to the beach. Then we all did that daft thing where you wiggle about under a towel and take your clothes off and put a swim suit on. A few yards away there were completely naked people.

This early encounter with nudists, I would have been about nine years old, set me thinking. Why do we wear special clothes to go to the beach, clothes that serve no useful or practical purpose?

Many years later when I had learnt to drive and had a car I went back to Waxham Sands and spent many times on the nude beach.

Jump forward a few years, I was at a boarding school. Dreadful institution, I hated it, thankfully it is now closed. I had a good friend, Sam, and we shared many interests, one of which was we like being nude.

The school had a swimming pool, it was quite small, outdoor and not heated, so even at the height of Summer it was always cold. Sam I had hatched a plan to go skinny dipping. The swimming pool was in courtyard, so relatively private. It was overlooked by a classroom window. There was a big football match scheduled for Saturday, FA cup final or something. Sam and I had no interest in football but every other boy and teacher would be glued to the television. The perfect time to go swimming nude.

Just after 3 pm, football had kicked off, we took a couple of towels and headed for the swimming pool. We had expected it to be locked, and we were considering our options for getting in, climbing the wall. Sam tried the door and it just opened! Health and safety was a bit lacking in 1968.

In we went. We stood looking at each other. The pool was not covered. I took the lead and got undressed. I dipped a toe into the water, bloody freezing! However, I was here to skinny dip, so I took a deep breath and jumped in. Once the initial shock of the cold water dissipated, it was very nice. I swam up and down. Eventually Sam plucked up the courage to join in. He sensibly entered via the steps and jumped around on tip toe at the shallow end until he took the plunge and swam to the deep end. We swam up and down for a while, but the cold got the better of us and it was time to get out. In the distance we could here cheering, a goal had been scored in the football.

We dried ourselves, put our clothes on, and headed back to the school building. It was half time, so we just merged with the other boys, no one had missed us.

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