The best way to be….
We never really thought of ourselves as nudists. It was not a culture, a philosophy, or a religion–it was just a place, a place where everyone thought it just fine not to wear clothes–and that’s what we did.
Whenever I tell someone that I used to spend my summers on the nude beaches of southern France, their questions make it plain to me that they’ve never experienced anything even remotely similar. “It’s not really what you think,” I tell them. Then, even after giving it my best effort, most still do not overcome their stereotypical views of what it must have been like—a few do understand, however.
It was 1973. I was living and working in Bremen, a harbor town in northern Germany, not far from Hamburg. Although I had lived in numerous other places in Germany while a U.S. Army dependent, this was my first year in Germany by…
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