I wish I could say that I grew up in a naturist family, spending my summer holidays running round naked

in the sun. But I cant. I was raised in the East Midlands in britain in the 1970s (I was born in 1968), with a perfectly normal childhood. I only ever saw my parents naked once or twice, and I dont believe theyve seen http://nudist-photo.com since I was about 10.
So, I grew up with all the ordinary British reservations about revealing my body in public. I think that my first exposure to naturism came on holiday in the south of France with my parents when I was (I believe) about 17 – my last holiday with them before I became a pupil and then left house. We stayed near Port Grimaud, and one day I chose to see what was on the different side of a big stony breakwater. Imagine my surprise when I saw a beach full of nude folks! Id love to say which I went and stripped off and joined them, but I didnt. Remember, this was a time when I didnt even want my parents to see me without a shirt on!
Anyway, when I was a student (living at home), I picked up a copy of Health and Efficiency from a shop that had it as one of its top shelf magazines (a phrase that will without doubt be familiar to British readers, but may be less so to those from overseas. Keep in mind that Playboy is a top shelf magazine!). It was interesting to find a magazine full of naked pictures of what I came to think of as ordinary people doing normal things not models who appear to be auditioning for a gynaecological textbook. Right now, I also started to spend time around the house nude when everyone else was outside, but this was more from the illegal thrill perspective. However, my opinion started to change, and I found that I really enjoyed being nude, and envied people who were able to go on naturist vacations. I did manage some days sunbathing nude in the back garden in a very rare time when my parents were on holiday and my brother was still away at college in a different town.
And that was it for many years. In 1992 or 1993, my girlfriend and I went to stay with a friend who lived in Poole, on the south shore. On the Saturday we went to their local beach for a walk, and my buddy warned us that there clearly was a nudist section. It was Studland Bay, somewhere I’d learned of in H&E (which I had long stopped purchasing, mostly because I had moved in with my girlfriend). So there I was, walking along Studland, encompassed by nudists, but I didnt dare do anything. I mean, I used to work with my (female) friend (and did again a few years after) and couldnt picture telling her hey, Id love to strip off here. For all I know, her and her husband might have been regulars, but that wasnt going to happen!
My girlfriend and I went back to Studland on our last day as the weather was fine, and I somehow plucked up the courage to suggest to her that we went to the nudist beach since I fancied stripping off. She was pretty amazed, but agreed on the understanding that she didnt have to. I truly appreciated it, much to her bemusement. I even swam nude in the sea, which was beach teen (if a little cool).
Over the next couple of years, my girlfriend indulged me and we visited Studland once or two times per year and I likewise stripped off once or even twice on a beach in France, but that was pretty much it. For the last 3-4 years nevertheless, we’ve been on vacation in French bungalows, and weve always managed to be remote enough for me (and sometimes my girlfriend) to strip off by the pool. Over the past year or two, I’ve been doing a streak of photography courses (Im an extremely sharp amateur), and the last one, in 2003, was social documentary. I struggled for quite a while to think of a subject, and from somewhere deep down I came up with the thought of doing something on naturism. I hunted round the web and discovered a club in Marlborough (which is about 50 miles from Bristol where I now dwell) who astonishingly enough were agreeable for me to take some pictures and invited me to come along and see them even though I ‘d be on my own as my girlfriend would not be joining me.
So, I somewhat nervously went to see them so they could meet me and I really could see what the photographic possibilities were. They were most welcoming, and I spent a thoroughly pleasant evening swimming and playing badminton in the nude.
There were some delays in receiving permission from the sports center they use, and in the end they said no. By this time, I ‘d been 2 or 3 times and was getting to love it. So, even though my job was killed off before I ‘d taken any graphics, the team asked me if I wanted to join, and I did. I now go along once a month or so, and adore it. The main problem is that the club meets on Saturday evenings, and I feel guilty about leaving my girlfriend on her own at home when I go. Id love for her to come as well, but she isnt assured enough at present, although she hasnt ruled out the possibility entirely.
More recently, I have already been beginning to think about making contact with one of the clubs not too far from Bristol one that has its own land so I could maybe have someplace outdoors to visit regularly.