August 5, 2017 by Dan Carlson

The North Side of Naked Mallorca

After a few edgy opinion pieces, I thought it might be time to get back to documenting our naturist travels, leading out with a few words and pictures of our naked explorations on the north side of Mallorca.

This was our second visit to Mallorca, and likewise, our second stay at Skinny Dippers Naturist Retreat; an idyllic little haven just a few minutes drive from the famous naturist beach, Es Trenc. During our first stay about a year ago, we were so mesmerized by the place that we scarcely left the side of the pool, lacking neither the energy nor motivation to get dressed and explore.

Canova Beach

This time, however, we decided we should see a bit more of the island, one day setting off on a train excursion from Palma to a little German enclave on the eastern shores of Mallorca, then another day driving directly north to check out a couple other renowned naturist beaches on the island.

First stop was Platja sa Canova, a long beach stretching to the east of Colonia Saint Pere. Truth be told, I was also a good bit curious about the other naturist hotel on the island, Hotel Naturaplaya; particularly intriguing as finding reliable information about the place had proven confusing at best. In fact, it took me forever to find their website, and once there, to verify whether it was actually a naturist property. Even the chase through various threads on TripAdvisor were dogged by ambiguity.

Only a 20-minute walk to the sandy naturist area

But among the advertised amenities was the implication that you could walk out their gate onto an expansive naturist beach, which suggested that if we could find the hotel, the expansive naturist beach must be nearby. Google maps helped us locate the property, but the search ended rather abruptly when we approached the guy working the front desk – strangely glib and a bit condescending all at the same time – to ask a few questions about the place and if it might be possible to see a room. (The room photos on their website are a little bleak.)

“No!”

OK. That was direct.

“It’s a naturist hotel, and we don’t have any vacant rooms!”

Yeah, OK. I get that. Of course, we would have dropped our clothes in a heartbeat if it meant qualifying for a tour, but apparently, that wasn’t on offer.

“You have a brochure?”

He handed me a business card. “Look at the website.”

The mysterious Naturaplaya hotel

I asked about the allegedly nearby naturist beach, for which he gave us vague instructions for walking a couple-hundred meters in a you can leave now sort of way. To be fair, I suppose we could have simply been creepy people on the prowl to see naked Germans in their natural habitat, (It seems Germany is their target market) but at the same time, he didn’t seem too keen on attracting new clients, either.

We found our way to the seaside of the hotel, noting that it actually looks like quite a nice property, despite the fact that it sits right at the edge of the village in a residential neighborhood where you’d have to drive several kilometers to find a place to eat. We’re finding this to be a recurring theme with naturist places.

The walk to the beach

Platja sa Canova is, indeed, a long beach that was perhaps sixty percent naturist on the day of our visit. And you could say the hotel backs up to the beach, though more accurately, the hotel backs up to some rocks that lead to a path, that leads to a long sort of rocky and marshy area, which eventually (think 20 minutes later) leads to a sandy beach which is where most of the naturists were hanging out. Adequate? Sure. A destination – nope. Not compared to the calm turquoise waters on the south shores of the island. But most peculiar of all… by the time we returned to the hotel to retrieve our car, the adjoining rocky beach was crowded with what one would think would be hotel clients – all in swimsuits. Go figure.

After a “slow food” stop in Artá for a lunch in a charming little courtyard, we decided to check out another beach that had been recommended to us by our host Jordi. Cala Mesquida sits in a small cove surrounded by sand dunes on two sides, and a wide array of apartments and hotels on the other. The place was packed! But we had read that the naturists gather at the far end, noting once again that even the snack bar menu was entirely in German – which is typically a good sign when you’re looking to get naked.

Cala Mesquida. Naturists huddle on the end.

On the scale of beautiful beaches, we give Mesquida much higher marks that the long, rocky Playa Canova we had visited that morning. And we did find the smallish naturist sector at the far end of the beach, perhaps representing less than three percent of the total beach goers that day, though I will say that of the age range of the naturists was significantly wider than that of most places we’ve been this summer, including a couple young naturist families.

A recurring theme for our summer naturist travels has been that timing is everything, and ironically enough, summer is not always the best time to be a naturist. It seems that when all the children are out of school and resort areas are overrun by families, places with reputations for full-on naturism tend to cave to societal norms and wrap themselves in nylon. Quite a lot more to say about that in my next entries about our expedition to the Canary Islands.

The rocky shores near Platja sa Canova

In the meantime, is Hotel Naturaplaya worth a visit? Dunno. Neither the beach nor the “friendly staff” has made a particularly compelling case to pursue further investigation. Should you read this, have been there, and can offer a few more words on insight on the topic, I’d be most grateful for your comments. In the meantime, you can find us basking in the naked glory of Es Trenc on the other side of the island.

Behind the hotel, on the edge of civilization

See my new blog where I’m creating a collection of particularly thoughtful posts written by other naturist bloggers: The Discerning Nudist

July 23, 2017 by Dan Carlson

Naked Meandering Takes Time…

The last two years have been pretty intense, with a couple big projects that have required a lot of travel, and as a friend put it this morning, many instances where I could say “I worked two days yesterday!” That’s tricky for a blogger, given that the very nature of blogging is organized around a chronological sense of time and space. Challenging when neither is available.

I write this post from Skinny Dippers Naturist Retreat on Mallorca, which has the unusual feature of encouraging a sense of community as many (most?) of the guests gather around the dinner table each evening; where, of course, the lead-out topic of conversation is almost always, “Where have you been, and what did you think?” If that conversation takes hold, perhaps I will disclose that I am a naturist blogger, and the most enthusiastic among them will run off to grab his or her iPad to put – shall we say – a face to the name.

“So, you’ve written about this place in Hawaii? Or Greece? Or Brazil?”

“Well…” I say sheepishly, “I intended to get that done, but you know how those things go.”

But as of this writing, we are looking ahead to three more weeks of nakation, and there are few things sweeter in life than sitting naked on the veranda with a glass of wine and sharing your musings about past travel experiences. So whether you are a loyal fan of my blog, or you just stumbled in from the frustration of a web search where the term “nudist” pulled up all the images you weren’t looking for, here’s what lies ahead on the blogging agenda for the Meandering Naturist.

On the edge of the big island, Hawaii

I wrote a couple posts about our visit two summers ago to Hawaii, but never quite got around to writing about the sweet little resort called Hangin’ Loose where we lived for a week in a yurt during monsoon season – or at least, so it seemed.

The serenity of Playa Sonrisa, Mexico

And it seems that I’ve never shared much about our two visits to Playa Sonrisa, a quiet little resort so far down the Yucatan peninsula that you can (and we recommend that you do) take a daytrip by boat to Belize.

Celso. The guy from Brazil with a naturist dream

And for that matter, I was surprised to find out that I’ve left virtually no trace of our visit to naturist Brazil whatsoever, despite the drama of the story of Colina do Sol, where we met the guitar playin’ naturist Celso to learn of the perils of the naturism business in 21st-century South America. So many stories to tell about that!

: Oriental Village, Thailand

Near Lemon Tree Resort, Thailand

When asked if I’ve blogged about our visits to two naturist resorts in Thailand, (Oriental Village and Lemon Tree Resort) I had to search my own archives to realize that, “Nope! Those trips are pretty much missing from our travelogue.” Which is a shame, as I’m particularly eager to promote naturism in this part of the world most suitable for naturism 365 days a year. Thailand is most definitely that place!

Walking to Tahiti Beach on Corsica

I knocked out a few posts about some of our travels last summer, but never really mused much about free-hiking on Corsica or our stay at the naturist resort Bagheera, let alone the subsequent visit to Vritomartis and a stunningly naked day on the tiny island of Gavdos – the most southerly point in Europe.

At the end of the world, on Gavdos, Greece

I did, however, do a pretty good job in keeping up with the blog during our time last winter (summer, there!) in Australia. At least, that is, until we got to the last two stops near Brisbane at BB at Byron Bay and a local legend known as BoBrene. But that often happens at the end of a long trip, when you start gearing up for reality at home, and the diary business goes out the window.

The view from the top! A naturist villa near Byron Bay, Australia

And finally, it seems I only gave a cursory glance to our long weekend at Paya Bay in Honduras, which I’ve taken to calling my new Caribbean Branch Office. Another case where we’re eager to simply get the word out about this little gem that has been flying below the radar of much of the international naturist community.

My branch office at Paya Bay, Honduras

So that’s quite a lot of catching up to do, and as I reflect, quite a lot of miles we’ve accrued in getting naked on six continents over the past two years. Seems that our pacing may slow down over the course of the next year or two as life reinvents itself, but as any blogger will tell you, the best part of the process is living the trip over through the mind’s eye. If a confirmed or would-be naturist finds the motivation in these pictures and words to book his or her own nakation, all the better for the cause, quietly hoping for the day when clothing-optional vacations are as normal as a trip to Disney World. For this meandering naturist, they are most certainly a lot more fun.

The idyllic little naturist beach on the Island of Rab, Croatia

Individual trip reports to follow in a quasi-chronological order. In the meantime, I always enjoy conversing with other naturists, so if you can’t find it in the search bar of my blog, don’t hesitate to ask Naturist Dan.

Happy naked wanderings to you!

July 20, 2017 by Dan Carlson

In Praise of Aging Nudists

In my most recent post – Nakation for Dummies – I made a bit of a fuss about finding the right place to experience social nudity for the first time, including a few punchy remarks about geriatric communities and sagging skin. A long-time reader felt compelled to write me a long and thoughtful email suggesting that my comments may have been a bit harsh, particularly when you consider that we are largely indebted to these pioneers of nudism for having any place to go naked at all. Point well taken.

As it happens, while my insurance company has not yet granted me the benefits the label of geriatric would provide, I’m most certainly getting closer to that mark each and every day. And I would go on to say that I’m a bit envious of those who are ten or twenty years older than I, as it seems there was a synergy and passion in those early nudist efforts that is all but lacking today. I remember those first naturist endeavors on the world-wide-web (Who remembers CompuServe?) that first made it possible to not only seek out places for nude recreation, but led me to meet real people as well, each of whom had a tremendous influence on our subsequent naturist endeavors.

There has been a lot written about the aging face of naturism, not only as that pertains to venues and clubs in the United States, but also for those in the large European naturist centers of Spain, Croatia and France. It is easy to neglect a few awkward truths that are frequently lost amidst overly simplistic statements about preserving nudist culture and recruiting the next generation. Having pondered this at great length, I have wondered if others have gone down the same rabbit holes that I have…

In the digital age, traveling to a protected naturist environment costs money! My reader friend updated me on the status of several nude beaches that were popular back in the days we lived near San Francisco, some of which are no longer clothing optional, others of which have been compromised by the fact that the naked people are out-numbered by the clothed gawkers looking for a cheap thrill. And that’s to say nothing of the evolution of high-tech camera equipment (Drones, for god’s sake!) than can capture clear digital images from a mile away. The security and self-assurance that could be had for free at a local beach in 1970 now requires a reservation at a luxury resort or on a dedicated cruise. That requires discretionary income. Who has that kind of money? The aging naturist, of course.

Naturism is inter-generational, except when it isn’t. That is most definitely something we took from our summer vacations in the South of France – naturism actually can be an inter-generational affair. In fact, it was particularly heartening to see two or three generations of a family, from one year to the next, as the grandchildren turned into young adults. Seems that’s never been part of the American nudist experience, and we’ve never really noticed that in Croatia or Spain either. In fact, at the huge Croatian resorts of Valalta and Koversada, the camping area is all but segregated with older folks who have dibs on the beachfront camping spots, and younger families who pitch tents up the hill. I suppose it makes sense, really. The French people go to French resorts with their French families, and it becomes a family tradition. I envy them for that. With the naturist population in Croatia coming mostly from Germany, and those in Spain coming mostly from Great Britain, it all becomes a bit more complicated as far as family traditions are concerned.
There are perils involved in purchasing your own personal naturist hamlet! So you fall in love with a naturist place in France, or Spain, or Palm Springs, or Arizona, and you decide to buy into a condo or into an apartment complex. Maybe it will be an investment property, or even something you can leave to your family as a vacation home… except the local law of the land requires nudity! La Jenny in southwest France opened in 1984 with about 1000 chalets built over the following ten years. But what happens when the offspring don’t take a fancy to the naturist idea? This has become a significant issue at La Jenny when non-naturist family members want to come use the vacation hideaway, but aren’t too keen on the code of conduct which says, “Take your clothes off!”

It Takes a Village… to make a Village. Especially in the United States, I believe this has become a particularly critical point. Like anything else, it requires a critical mass to provide a wide array of choices for various life-style preferences. Our most vivid experiences to this end have taken place in Florida, in one instance where we visited a “family naturist place” with our children only to learn of the unadvertised strong sexual undercurrent, and another “family naturist place” only to aggravate a less than tactful older man who quite clearly did not want children playing near the pool in his retirement village. But the fact is that when there are a finite number of people who consider nude recreation to be an All-American pastime, then facilities are challenged with being all things to all people. With literally hundreds of naturist centers in a space smaller than Texas, France has a marked advantage here that goes well beyond their laissez-faire attitudes about nudity. French people simply have a lot of choices! Wish that were true everywhere.

As I go about sorting all that out in my own head, it occurs to me that the age thing is perhaps the most perplexing conundrum in the demographics of nakedness. If you’re over sixty, and reading this now, there’s a good chance you have been an advocate for the free beach movement, or have volunteered at your club to fix the roof and paint the snack bar. Or perhaps you were simply there as part of the village to say “Naturism is important. Let us live and let live!” For this, I am grateful.

Here at this lovely little resort in Mallorca, we met the most lovely man who spends a month each winter at Club Orient in St. Maarten, and a month each summer here in the Balearic Islands. Have suffered a bad fall, he’s a bit less ambulatory in his 84th year than he once was, but his mind is sharp and his humor is vibrant – if not a bit stinging at times. He left early this morning, and I think I can speak for others when I say a certain energy went with him to the airport. Turns out that when he was in earshot, he was the life of the party.

Perhaps the takeaway there is that we really can’t measure the naturist population in calendar years as accurately as we might in the appreciation of one’s love of life, despite the condition of the skin that contains it!

[A disturbing side-note: As I was searching for images for this post, I used terms like “senior nudists” or “vintage naturism.” What Google pulled up was some of the most raunchy pornographic images fathomable, most of which were neither seniors nor vintage. While I’ve been around the web enough to find neither the images or the search results particularly surprising or shocking, it’s no wonder people are so confused about naturist/nudism, especially when searching for reliable information on the internet. Bummer!]

July 15, 2017 by Dan Carlson

Dad!?! What the Hell are you Doing?

We made some new friends today at lunch during our first day (second visit) at Skinny Dippers Resort on Mallorca. As was the case during our stay last year, the typical introductory visit follows a fairly predictable script; Where else have you done the naturist thing? How did you get into nude recreation? And, if the pre-screening test goes well, the inevitable, “Do your kids know you’re here?”

As it happens, our kids do know we’re at a naturist place. We had a FaceTime session with our 29-year-old daughter today (appropriately undressed for the occasion) and her 27-year-old sister will join us (here at Skinny Dippers) for a few days in the coming week. As I have mentioned before, each of our daughters are naturist-friendly, or more directly, “we will undress for a free vacation.”

Es Trenc Playa

Turns out that we are the exception to the rule by way more than a country mile! In fact, in our informal survey of other parents we have met at naturist places over the past ten years, there are approximately zero subjects who have told their children, “Yeah, we’re going to lie in the sun naked for two weeks – come join us if you’d like.” Which leads to an amusing story our new friend told us at (naked) lunch today…

Seems he and his wife were visiting a clothing-optional beach in Great Britain when their (now-adult) daughter was about six years old. Having completed a rejuvenating swim, the father came ashore with swim-trunks in hand, surrounded by naked people, wringing out the seaweed and salt-water and enjoying a brief dose of fresh-air-all-over. To which the daughter replied in horror, [insert charming British accent here,] DAD!?! What the HELL are you doing?

What the hell, indeed!?!

I find myself more introspective than usual during our world travels, with an unusual amount of time to read, and even a few minutes to catch-up on a few reliable news-feeds by the likes of John Oliver and Seth Meyers. (Sorry friends – if you’re an avid Trump fan, you may want to X out of this page now and get on with your day. Don’t let my little rant here diminish your appreciation for my blog.) Today’s confluence of events, besides this delightful story delivered with passion from my Brexit disdaining comrade, also included time on a floaty in the pool – naked, of course – while reading Bassem Youssef’s Revolution for Dummies, and the discovery of this handy little flow-chart that attempts to explain the terms of engagement for the President of the United States and the first lady of France.

Donald! What the hell are you doing?!?

Thank you for setting the bar for us, President Trump.

In the case of the Youssef book, he walks his readers through the Arab Spring and the Egyptian revolution, step-by-step, so that westerners might have some insight into the rise of radical Islam, and just how that aligns with the other religious-gone-political campaigns the world over. Today’s lesson was, “Liberal thinking leads to discussion, which leads to democracy, which leads to freedom of thought, which leads to women baring skin (and driving cars!), which leads to… wait for it… mass orgies in the streets in every city and town the world over. You would think these observations to be ridiculous until you realize that Youssef struck such a nerve with his ironic humor that he was forced into exile, and now resides in asylum in the United States of America. (Don’t tell Donald.)

So let’s be clear. I’m one of those professor types that works pretty hard to draw conclusions out of non-sequitur ideas, but I have to say, we live in a bizarre age when the leader [sic] of the free world can essentially make a pass at another diplomat’s wife, when women of the Arab world are banished to a life of physical (fabric) and psychological (everything else!) imprisonment, and a six-year-old child is shocked by the appearance of her father’s penis at the distance of fifty meters on a clothing-optional beach.

And for that matter, we are only frank with our adult children about our naturist doings because we had the audacity and resource to be naturists with them while they were children, though we had to travel all the way to France to make that seem normal and acceptable for them.

My point exactly? Well really, I just wanted to tell that humorous story from lunch today. But that aside, my desire to create a blog in the first place was to create a place on the internet where social nudity assumes its rightful place in this bizarre and chaotic world in which we live. In America, we even have children’s books that help us teach our children that “this is an elbow, this is a toe, and this is a penis.” If you’re really progressive parents, maybe you have those books in your house that help explain to your children that at a certain age you grow hair on your body and things start to protrude.

But really? How does a child understand the oppression of women in the Middle-east, let alone the behavior of an American president, if they can’t see a penis or a breast without reeling in horror and disbelief? Especially in this day and age when they are simply a Google search away from the most extraordinary elements of sexual deviance, and god knows what else.

Clearly, my mind is warped in favor of nakedness, along with body acceptance, truthfulness, and a realization that humans have a finite number of body parts that make them human. If there are, indeed, orgies on the street, I don’t think you can ascribe those to the nudists. Truth be told, anecdotal evidence suggests people who are into sexual deviance (orgies, et al…) are quite shy about total nakedness. Too vulnerable. Too real.

“Dad? What the Hell are you Doing?”

“I’m being human, dear one. Go back to playing in the sand.”

June 13, 2017 by Dan Carlson

Naked Time is Here!

Having just finished an enormous project that has largely consumed the last two years of my life, I am happy to report that the Meandering Naturist is at it again! This time writing from the terrace of our sweet little apartment at Valalta Naturist resort near Rovinj, Croatia.

As far as naturist travel is concerned, it’s been a very good year for us, including our first visit to Paya Bay in Honduras, (Pictured above.) several naturist stops on the eastern coast of Australia, (some of which I have yet to blog about) and a few other diversions along the way that have afforded us a few precious moments of one-on-one time with the sun. We will spend most of this summer in Europe, where I still have a couple work projects to finish up, but there will also be some time to revisit a couple of our favorite naturist destinations, while discovering a few more – namely, those on the Canary Islands.

The walking path on Ile du Levant

This is our second visit to Valalta, noting that there have been vast improvements to the place since our last stay in 2007. (We have made it to Koversada several times since then – literally across the way, by which I mean, across the fjord!) We’ll squeeze in a reconnaissance trip to a famous naturist beach on the island of Rab during our time here, before heading back through Italy for a brief stay at Le Betulle, one of the few naturist resorts in that sun baked country. We also look forward to returning to Ile du Levant for a few days – an annual pilgrimage of sorts while getting some work done in France.

Walking near Es Trenc, Mallorca

But once I log off for the summer, we’ll head for the islands of Spain. First, back to see our friends Grant and Jordi at Skinny Dippers Resort on Mallorca, then a scramble through several airports to make our way to the Canary Islands, or more specifically, Lanzarote, Fuerteventura, and Gran Canaria. This is all new territory for us. A bloggers dream, methinks!

valalta-hr_val0_aquagunbeachbar_2017-eps_detail2gross_2

The new bar at Valalta

I think that all adds up to about six weeks of livin’ with nothin’ but the radio on, interspersed with pretty intense work projects along the way. But I am optimistic that this will afford me some serious blogging time as well. In fact, I’m a mere 30,000 clicks away from a half-million hits on my blog since I first got started back in 2013. Don’t know that there’s anything like a Tony or an Academy Award for that, but I do love to write, and it’s especially pleasing to hear now and again that my naked meanderings have helped even one more person figure out this naturist thing. To that end, I will always be indebted to a guy named Don from a “Compuserve Board” (Remember those?) who first pointed me to a place called La Jenny during my desperate search for a place to take my family on nakation.

The “swimming pool” at Charco del Palo

And for that matter, I just reconnected with a guy named Chris who responded to a message board inquiry years ago to tell me about nudity at Therme Erding near Munich. We were there just yesterday, as that has since become a ritual every time we come to Europe.

A promo photo from Gran Natura Hotel

So there it is. On one hand, the internet makes it increasingly tricky to out yourself as related to one’s naturist proclivities. But on the other hand, this little corner of the internet has served me well in finding those who care deeply about preserving and promoting naturist values, while at the same time – I hope – demystifying the whole thing to the curious and eager to be clothes free.

Naturist bliss at Paya Bay, Honduras

Given the time I don’t have to spend putting on and taking off clothes in the coming weeks, I’m hoping I can use that time to catch up on a few more blog posts, and maybe even touch off another debate or discussion that typically always leads to the same conclusion: “You have one set of body parts or the other. So what’s the big deal?”

We’ll keep you posted on that. 🙂

August 13, 2016 by Dan Carlson

Mallorca Hospitality – Grant and Jordi Style

This summer marked our first visit to Mallorca, but most certainly not our last. Having read about Skinny Dippers resort for years, we finally found our way to this beautiful little hamlet near the south shores of this island in the Balearics, off the Spanish coast near Barcelona.

Of all the naturist places we’ve visited, I have to say that this one is truly unique – in a good way – largely defined by what I came to refer to as the “Grant and Jordi Show.” Grant and Jordi are the owners/innkeepers of this classy little resort “for the discerning naturist,” now in its second edition. They began with a smaller inn down the road, but expanded to this property with twelve rooms a few years ago. Apparently that is going so well that one’s failure to book a year in advance may well mean you don’t get your dates, or maybe, you don’t get in at all. There is clearly a devoted following that makes this their one stop nakation destination each and every year. Now we know why.

Famous map by Grant

Most of the rooms are in a beautiful two story finca that was originally built as a home for a guy long on money, but short on time to absorb the qualities of the simple life in the country. That, along with a few adjoining apartments make up a lovely selection of beautiful apartments with unusually spacious bathrooms. Perhaps the nicest accommodations we’ve had in a naturist venue anywhere!

But what really makes the place unique is the innkeepers themselves, attentively looking after each guest with humor and charm, eager to personalize each guest’s holiday experience. Grant is famous for his hand drawn maps to local naturist beaches and various tourist attractions, usually doodled on the back of a scrap of paper, but acutely accurate. (You can read about our naturist outings in a previous post should you wish.) If you desire to dine in, meals are served on one of two verandas where guests dress – or not – according to the evening temperatures. Into the new trend of gourmet dining au naturel, skip London and Paris and head straight for Mallorca.

Beach combing

Over the course of our stay, the communal meals made it nearly impossible to remain completely anonymous, unless you should choose to dine elsewhere or alone. We made many new friends from Great Britain, along with those from Switzerland, Norway, the Netherlands, and Sweden as well. Lots of lively and convivial banter in the midst of Brexit and the US Presidential Election. But what truly impressed us about Skinny Dippers is how our hosts worked so diligently (and discreetly) to maintain the calm and welcoming environment that creates something of a familial sense about the place. In fact, during our stay, there was an incident where guests had arrived that were not quite in sync with the ambiance of this particular resort. (You’ll need to read between the lines on that one.) This was handled quickly and discreetly, and suddenly, they had chosen to make an earlier than anticipated departure. What Grant and Jordi have created here is something very special in the naturist holiday realm, and they are most definitely committed to protecting that investment for their most valued clients. No wonder their customers are so loyal.

So we have already made our reservations to return next year. Pool gravity made it difficult to get dressed and get out to see as many sights as we might have hoped, especially if it involved donning clothing. My only reticence about talking up the place on social media is that I suspect it will become increasingly difficult to book a room with each successive year. To that end, it seems there are plans underway to reopen the original resort, this time as self-catering apartments. Staying there means you’d miss out on the Grant and Jordi Show, but I suspect it will be fabulous in its own right. I can’t imagine any endeavor put up by these two naked entrepreneurs to be anything less than first rate.

Thanks Grant and Jordi, for such a welcoming introduction to Mallorca. We look forward to the food, the wine, and the laughter again next year.

July 31, 2016 by Dan Carlson

Nude Beach combing in Mallorca

So I suppose the first thing the geographically challenged naturist would want to know about Mallorca is that it is one of the Balearic Islands, which happily enough for naked people, is part of Spain. Despite the explosion of expansive naturist centers in France, and the mass exodus of naked Germans each summer to the Istrian peninsula in Croatia, Spain has been moving into the lead as the place where it’s essentially “legal to get naked anywhere,” as long as it’s not offensive to the general public. Apparently, this policy gained such widespread publicity that the good people of Barcelona finally had to make their own policy, forbidding people to walk around Las Ramblas in the buff, as it seems too many were exercising their rights while frightening the tourists. (Mainly American tourists, I dare say!) I suppose that’s where naturism ends and exhibitionism begins, but alas, that’s a different post.

In the meantime, one’s license to make any beach a nude beach seems to be the common doctrine, especially in the more remote places found on say… the Balearic Islands. We were staying on the southern corner of Mallorca near the town of Campos at the exquisite Skinny Dippers Naturist Retreat, (That blog post is coming soon!) where we had the expertise of our lovely host Grant, who knew all the best spots to bathe naked in the shimmering turquoise waters of Mallorca. Our enthusiasm for the world famous Es Trenc beach was a bit more fervent than that of our host, though he was kind enough to guide us to the best parking lot that would provide the easiest access to where we’d be likely to find other naturists.

An early arrival at the parking lot was well worth the effort; (early, meaning before 10:00 am) then a fifteen-minute trek past all the beach bars with locals and tourists packed in on top of each other. But then, near the old bunkers left over from WWII, the naked people began to appear. With shallow waters that allow one to wade 100 meters into the sea, it truly is a remarkable place, and there were plenty of constituents in the naturist cohort, and as many again who were happy to go topless. We were there with another couple from the naturist retreat, and indeed, nobody seemed to notice that some people had swimsuits and other did not. So much so, one couldn’t help but wonder “WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE WRAPPING YOURSELVES IN POLY-PETROLEUM-NYLON WHEN WHAT YOU’RE WEARING IS, IN SO MANY WAYS, MORE REVEALING THAN WHAT I’M NOT WEARING?” But most importantly, Es Trenc is a place where naturists and textiles can easily co-exist – and, in fact, do so every day!

But the real find was the seaside path to the south and west of Es Trenc. Once again, at the advice of our host, we left the car near the lighthouse at Cap de Ses Salines, walked 50 meters out toward the sea, doffed our clothes and headed north. We made this walk twice along the seaside – once in the morning, then a few days later at sunset – each time finding a few other walkers along the way. The first beach we came to was broad and sandy, with a shallow shelf and more turquoise water; the second consisting of a rocky shore around a stunning bay where boats like to drop anchor and while away the day. Few of the people we encountered along the way were naked, but again, nobody seemed to care. According to our friend Grant, tourism is the heartbeat of the Balearic Islands, known for a laid back attitude to begin with. If the tourists are happy getting naked, and that means they’ll stay longer and do more for the local economy, bring on the naked people!

Though we were on Mallorca for about nine days, we found the “pool gravity” at Skinny Dippers Retreat to be incredibly dissuasive from getting our naked asses out of the resort and off to the seaside. And it occurs to me that we have only scratched the surface as to where one might commune with the Vitamin D gods on this beautiful little island. So to that end, we have already booked our return visit for next summer at which point, I’m hopeful additional “research” will lead to the discovery of a few new places to bask in the sun.