If we had to describe our lives and what we do, we would call ourselves full-time nudist travelers. Or maybe something more poetic like naked wanderers, nude nomads, clothes-free vagabonds, or bare tramps. If you’d be planning to start a blog about nudist traveling too, those are already some great ideas for your blog’s name.
Anyway, that’s what we do. We live a nomadic lifestyle, constantly wandering from one nudist place to another. Well, more or less. What you don’t see on this blog is that from time to time we need to wear clothes as well. At the beginning of Naked Wanderings, we were often asked whether we had never gotten into trouble when traveling naked. Apparently, some people believed that we had burnt all our clothes and just engaged in this voyage in our Adam and Eve suits.
If that had been the case, we don’t think that we would have made it very far. Taxis would probably not allow us to get in. People on the train would act weird and there’s no way that we would get through airport security without clothes (ironically, since we’re always asked to take some off before they let us through). Although we spend a lot of time at nudist places, we don’t really consider ourselves living nude.
That time when we had to stop being nomads
Then the COVID-19 virus came along and traveling became pretty difficult. Borders were closed, so were restaurants and bars, non-essential shops (these included clothing stores, by the way, an interesting thought), and soon everyone’s front doors. More and more people got stuck in their own place.
Because the virus was traveling west, by the time most European countries went in lockdown, there were still little to no cases in Mexico. It seemed like we had picked the perfect place to stay away from the virus. Of course, that didn’t happen. It didn’t take long before COVID-19 crossed the Atlantic Ocean and moved like a dark cloud in our direction. We had to act fast. The endless list of options that we normally come up with when we ask ourselves the question “where will we go next?” was reduced to two. Either back to Belgium, our country of residence, or staying in Mexico.
Belgium was getting hit pretty hard at the moment and in Mexico there happened to be a spot that we had fallen in love with: Zipolite. Phone calls to friends and family were made, decisions were taken, flights were booked. Long story short, a couple of days later we were in Zipolite.
That time when we started living nude
One of the main reasons why we love Zipolite so much is its huge nude beach and the many surrounding clothing-optional hotels. We knew that this time wouldn’t be just a visit. We could get stuck here for quite some time to come. So we picked our favorite place in town, Casablanca Guesthouse, to start our self-quarantine.
Zipolite is a safe but fragile community and the last thing we wanted was to bring the virus into town. After all, we had just crossed half the country to get here. So we took our quarantine very seriously. For at least 14 days we would stay at a safe distance from the owners of the guesthouse and the other couple who also got stuck here and only once a week we left Casablanca, for a quick grocery run.
With temperatures around 30°C (about 90°F), clothes were put into closets. Not to be seen again for the next who knows how many days. We slept nude, woke up nude, lived nude, and went to bed nude. We quickly became 24/7 nudists.
The joy of living nude
Days went by and like in the blink of an eye our 14 days of self-quarantine were over. Interestingly, not all that much changed after that. With most bars and restaurants closed, we didn’t really have much of a reason to get to town, other than shopping for the necessities.
While many of our friends started to show the first signs of extreme boredom, we felt like the quality of our lives had actually improved. Every moment of the day, the view of the Pacific Ocean was in a corner of our eyes. We spent our time skinny dipping in the pool, playing board games, and working on our website. All of that without any clothes.
During this covid-period, everyone keeps talking about the “new normal”. In our new normal, clothes have gotten a very insignificant place. To the point where they actually start to feel like a burden. Even shorts and a t-shirt, the minimum for our walks into town, are wet and sticky (and stinky) before we walk through the gate. You don’t actually realize the comfort of being nude until, after several days, you have to put clothes on. Every time we wish that this walk to the shop could be done clothes-free as well.
Living nude forever
Today, we are 85 days in Zipolite. If we’d count the hours that we’ve been wearing clothes, we’d probably barely reach a day or two in total. It’s unlikely that we’ll get any closer to a 100% nude life. We’ll have to go to the shops and supermarkets eventually, right?
Well, not exactly. We’ve been to several nudist places around the world where people actually live and that have shops with all the necessities. The naturist villages in Europe, for example, and several other large nudist resorts. We could move there and with a bit of organizing, we could give all our clothes to charity and never wear a piece of textile for the rest of our lives.
Sounds a lot like nirvana, doesn’t it? Except for one important thing: We are nude nomads, clothes-free vagabonds, bare tramps. Both parts of those terms are equally important to us. Even though we’re currently living in paradise, we’re also starting to feel a sense of homesickness. Not for Belgium though. We’re getting homesick for airports, bus stations, faraway places, nude beaches, naturist resorts, and connection with other humans.
Unless this new normal will turn the world clothes-free, we may never live nude forever.
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