Agde
/43° 16.07' N 05° 30.34' E, Agde, France
Our next marina is also a time warp of tourism. Agde was purpose built in the 70's as a tourism town and thus it fulfils all the requirements of 70's tourism, it lacks the soul a town gets from growing organically. If I sound like I'm completely down n' out on Agde hold fire... It has one massive, unexpected, draw card. The worlds largest Naturist Village. Was I keen? You bet your polka dot knickers I was!
€7 gets you pedestrian (with bicycle) entry. Once inside you can do all the usual things one does in a seaside village, but in any state of dress, or 'erm, undress, your wee willy desires.
You want to go shopping? how about T-shirt only. Fancy going to the post office in your fishnet slip? Not a problem. Go to the bar, bare. Play volleyball, positively free!
There were young, old, families, couples and wheelchair bound bod's all in their brilliant birthday suits! Personal style however was still alive and well, throw on a pair of stilettos and a body chain for bling, wear some leather pants; but (butt?) cut out a hole front and back, because you can. Wear a wrap dress and wrap those beautiful breasts of yours on the outside. Get everything you can fathom pierced.
We scoped the place out fully clothed, you are welcome to be in any state of dress you like, there is no pressure to be naked, brought a couple of ice creams and headed to the beach where we got in on the naked groove.
It never felt seedy (though I can only vouch for a few afternoon hours) even with some bondage gear casually strolling around. Though, call me timid, the foam party clubbing scene was a level too far on the naturist elevator for us today. I'm happy to stick to sand in awkward places and no tan lines.
After so much excitement the next day it absolutely poured with rain and I desperately needed to spend half a day at the laundrette, so this is me, at the Laundrette. It was too rainy to go back and forth and too many loads to do, so it was me and my book and the steady drum of 8 washings machines.
Charlie x
