The Bare Truth

      So in Martinique Jenny, my room-mate, and I went to the beach every day. For the swimming and the sun and the warmth, of course.

boat ride in Martinique!

      The scene at the beach, however, was very much like a singles bar only with less clothes and a lot more desperation. There were only so many days in each person's vacation. And there were goals in mind, most of which involved sex. Time was of the essence – there was none to spare. Guys, mostly about our age, approached us, introduced themselves, and started small talk. But we were quick to let them know that just because we were engaging in social intercourse, it did not mean that sexual intercourse would follow. This was actually a favor to the guys – we did not want to waste their time when they could be chatting up more willing females.

      Some of the guys were friendly enough to continue to talk to us even after we made our non-intentions clear and their intentions were still quite evident. And we usually got around to asking them why they didn't just go over to the nude beach and approach the women there – Wouldn't those women be easier? They were already naked ? And the guys would all respond the same way when given that suggestion. Their voices would go soft, almost to a whisper, and they would say, “Oh I could never do the nude beach. My parts might get sunburned.”

      One morning toward the end of my stay at Martinique, Jenny and I were walking down the trail to the beach when we came to the, by then, familiar fork in the path. We always took the one to the left which led to the regular beach. But on that particular morning, we looked at each other and reasoned that it would be a shame to have come so far from home without experiencing, at least for a little bit, what was at the end of the other path – in fact it was our duty to go there so we could then go home and let others know exactly what it was all about!

      We took the other trail that day – the one that went to the nude beach.

      After the craziness of the first beach, I was expecting pure chaos at the nude beach – the fewer the clothes, the greater the decadence, right? But as the sand and the water appeared through the trees at the end of the path, what I saw was absolute paradise! It was peaceful and beautiful.

      Three middle-aged men speaking a foreign language had just gotten out of the water and were walking across the sand – they were naked and their bodies were not in the best of shape, but when their eyes met ours, the men smiled, and their smiles were real – no lasciviousness, just genuine delight at our presence. And we had not even taken off our bathing suits yet! 

      People were sunbathing, and there were personal boundaries being observed – we stretched out on our towels with no one disturbing us or breaking the spell of this luxurious Eden.

      Near our towels was a guy perhaps a couple of years older than we were. He was tanned bronze from head to toe, from front to back. He was gorgeous! I was glad our eyes did not make contact, or he might have seen lasciviousness in mine – and then I would have been the one breaking the spell!

      A couple of days later, when it was time for my planeload of people to be leaving Martinique, we were gathered in the main lobby all packed up and dressed to fly home. The guys who had been so crazy all week were in their cut-off jeans still seeming to have that air of desperation about them even though I was fairly sure each of them had gotten what they thought they had wanted from their week in Martinique.

      And the Adonis from the nude beach? Oh my gosh, he was standing at the bar! He had been on my plane from Toronto! He was standing there with almost all of his bronze completely covered with the three piece white suit he was wearing. He looked like a blond Mr. Roarke from Fantasy Island!

      While I stood there staring at him with my mouth a-gape, the cut-off jeans guys were scoffing and laughing at him – one of the guys said, “I guess some people just don't know how to have a good time!”

      And that is when I learned the wisdom of Martinique: the nude beach is that which separates the men from the boys!

116 20150426 The nude beach