Skinny-Dipping in Italy
12 July 2014 | Crotone
Sailing here in the Med, you're hard-pressed not to glance over at another boat and see the occupants, usually German or Scandinavian, jumping naked off the back of their boat or showering or just standing, bits and pieces akimbo, enjoying the sun.
However, I'm British. We don't do that. We spend hours trying to change into our cozzies under a towel in case a bit of flesh is seen by someone not in our immediate family. Like we've got something that no one else has got. Not sure why it is. Probably something to do with Queen Victoria who had her piano legs covered apparently.
So, it was with some degree of shock and a little sadness that I realised I have never skinny-dipped. Not ever. Not even in the swinging 70s when we were all high on love and peace and marijuana. I did manage to sunbathe topless once when Jeni and I went to Menorca but I didn't like it. I couldn't concentrate on reading my book.
However, as I turned 61 the other day and we are now sailing in our own boat, half way across the world, to some of the most amazing places, surrounded by crystal clear, warm water, there really is no excuse. So this morning, after only a cursory look around, I leapt off the back - actually no, I slithered surreptitiously off the back - and had my very first skinny dip. All I can say is - wow, why have I never done this before???
I will spare you the photographic evidence (though there is some on application) but I have now decided that I am going to be skinny-dipping for England at every opportunity. The next time you glance over at a catamaran anchored across the bay from you and see a largish, oldish, naked woman shrieking and leaping off the back, it's probably going to be me!