Shlong Song

This is going to sound like sheer hypocrisy after my recent “Yay for Modesty” post, but I have to be honest. We went to a nude beach today. Yes, we knew there was a high possibility there would be naked people there before we went. However, it’s one of the few beaches that allow dogs during daylight hours and Laila has been crazy from lack of exercise. As today was cloudy and a Tuesday, we figured chances were good there wouldn’t be anyone there. We were almost right.

The beach is in the area of Anaga, a remote little town you can only access by a twisty two-lane road with cliffs on either side. Some of the inhabitants have never left the town in their entire lives. Both Ruyman and I have been suffering more than the usual amount of carsickness since we’ve been here, so even though he was driving and I was in the front seat, the roads were tough on the tummy.

When we got to the town, we hiked a precipitous rocky staircase leading down the mountain to the beach. A series of natural black sand beaches punctuated with rock formations made the hike worthwhile. There were a handful of people at the first, largest beach, so we kept hiking. The third beach was empty, so that’s where we set up.

Ruyman and Laila playing as the tide came in.

Despite several opportunities to go in the buff, Ruyman’s never been naked at a nude beach. Since we were totally alone and out of sight, he decided to try it and convinced me to go along with him. It wasn’t much different than being on a beach in a swimsuit, only we were more than usually paranoid. When the tide started to come in with a vengeance, we put on our suits and trekked back to the bigger beach. It was there that I decided nude beaches were something I wanted to avoid. It isn’t that I can’t stand being naked in public. It’s other people being naked that’s the problem. 

A middle-aged couple near us on the beach decided to go au natural. I wasn’t surprised by the bare boobs because all beaches here are top-optional. I wasn’t even too bothered by the butts. That’s probably because many swimsuits, both for men and women, are thongs that you hope rather than know for sure are in there somewhere. No, it was the exposed manhood I found a little disturbing.

Now, bear in mind that I was a Humanities major in college. I’ve seen my fair share of Davids with and without fig leaves. But it’s one thing to see them in stone and another thing to see them in person. I think it’s because the ones made out of marble don’t tend to be quite so... expressive of the owner’s emotions. Sometimes it isn’t a complement to know just how much some icky old man appreciates the way you look.

So I think from here on out, I’m going to beaches where people wear clothes. If there happens to be no one else on the beach, well... we’ll see.