Naked Christmas and New Year
My friend and I decided to go well south for Christmas and New Year. We left it late to book so couldn't get exactly where we wanted. But we were pleasantly surprised. We booked into a complex of self catering apartment's at Monte Marina in Esquinzo, southern Fuerteventura. We were told We'd have to go to a neighbouring textile restaurant and bar for food and drink in the evening. Esquinzo village was said to be quiet in the evenings and it was in a part of the island we hadn't really been to before. The beaches were said to be over commercialised with big hotels pouring textile hordes onto the beaches. On the plus side we had the flexibility of a hire car and there was a very big supermarket nearby.
Reality was 100 times better! We only really needed the supermarket for essentials like Whisky, beer, coffee and breakfast ingredients. It turned out that Esquinzo is at the mid point of an 11km (7 mile) long Clothes Optional Jandia beach with golden sand running gently into the warm sea over most of its length. We did walk the entire 11km naked (in stages), wrapping something flimsy round our waists to call in at the various beach bars. I also waded well out into the sea on Christmas Day, New Years Day and a few other days. It didn't matter that we were the only nudes on the beach in places. Around Esquinzo the nudes well outnumbered those in swimwear. Our hire car took us to just about every other beach on Fuerteventura which gave some variety. But nothin matched the excellence of the Jandia beaches on our doorstep, not even the famous (and almost as long) Corrolejo Dunes beach. Of course we drove everywhere naked. There would be a stop for lunch for which I took a form of flimsy wrap thrown over one shoulder like a toga. Maybe also a tee shirt if it was cool.
The infamous Fuerteventura winds held off during our 10 night stay and there were only two really cloudy days. Temperatures varied around 20 C ( 70 F).
In the evenings we did dress to have a meal in the restaurant and drink in a separate bar. That was no problem either, partly because of my idea of a dress code. Each night I wore a different short mini kilt - say 12 to 14 inches (30 to 35 cm) from waist to hem. Maybe I made a mark dressed as father Christmas on Christmas Eve (Santa hat and tunic and bushy white beard) with a red mini kilt split up to the waist. Everyone there took us as Scottish and had heard of the tradition that a Scot wears nothing under the kilt. At lest once a day a lady would ask giving me the chance to lift the kilt and show that there was indeed nothing under it. One evening I wore a longer kilt and a Belgian man decided to play a joke on me. Accompanied by a terrified waitress he told me he was from security and needed to check for hidden weapons. I was to stand, arms outstretched for the waitress to pat me down. Again I fully lifted the kilt to show everything. Those at the next table raised their glasses. I later found out that she was to feel inside the kilt - no wonder she was terrified. The Belgian man and his wife became friends for the rest of the holliday
Maybe a plus was that many of the others in the restaurant were nudists too. There was never a problem if certain parts were exposed. That went for the bar, in a separate complex. The first thing I noticed was the busty barmaid with a plunging neckline and a miniskirt almost as short as my kilt. I had a thin top on showing my 4 nipple piercings. She was intrigued, especially when I lifted it for her to see properly. Then there was the inevitable question about the kilt. Up it went to show nothing under it - nothing but a whole load of other piercings. That caused a real buzz and other customers had to see for themselves. On subsequent nights the barmaid lifted my kilt herself. The Irish landlord was very friendly and served good beer and single malt whisky.
New Year's Eve was celebrated with a feast and plenty of wine, sitting at a table with our Belgian friends and another couple. The music played and I danced the night away. When in a kilt I like to do twirls in the hope it will rise. I did feel a hand on my bottom inside my kilt and tuned to see a smiling lady. My friend had the same happen to him just after midnight.
All in all it was a brilliant holiday. We were naked and on beaches every day. And in the evenings I haven't had so much fun with my clothes on.
There was a sequel. We called in to a pub in my friend's village. The landlord knew of our nudism. We talked about our holiday and I showed him a photo of me naked in my own village pub. It was quiet and I was allowed to strip off. My friend soon followed. The landlord was impressed that we were obviously relaxed, drinking and chatting as we would if we were still dressed. My friend got his agreement for the pub to host a nude meal if we could collect a bunch of nudists to come and dine. And eventually the landlord got naked too.
The following day we went to a nude swim to which my friend belonged. I'd never been there before but one of the swimmers recognised me from my TN profile and others remembered us from the odd nude holiday in the past. It's a small world.
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