A summer day at a naturist friend's

Séverine welcomed me in her bungalow one day last week and, as I am the first of the friends we have in common who came to see her « there », she is certainly wondering what memories, what feelings, what good or evil I have gathered from my experiment. First, it was not lived as an experiment at all, but as a delicious journey out of daily routine into a peaceful, pine-and-all-sorts-of-plants-scenting world, after hardly more than one hour’s train traveling from Paris.

Let me tell you at once that I did not undress, I was not going there to do it but to work with Séverine. Let me also tell you that next time I go there, I shall less hesitate to do it, perhaps protected from the Big Unknown with a pareo till I reach the swimming-pool. Séverine did not undress either. Her bungalow is near the entrance, so it was possible for me to keep my clothes on without causing any trouble nor anger. We went for lunch in the « textile » part of the camp, so no problem. So, « no problemo » but « no casualties » either !

At the restaurant, we decided to make a feast of it and had a tasty meal : for me, the most savory taboulé I ever ate since long, nicely roasted chicken parts and a fresh mixed salad. Séverine could not eat the same, but both of us could drink two glasses of delicate rosé wine to celebrate our meeting.

Séverine caught sight of some neighbours from the nude side, also fully-dressed, as it is necessary in that open air restaurant, the chef of which deserves several stars ! We giggled as she let me know that she recognized an elderly couple owing to their dog ! I must confess that this thing happens to me : I sometimes recognize the dog before his master, or his mistress !

Afterwards, Séverine drove us to admire an impressively-sized and beautiful middle-aged church in a surprisingly small village : one of the various resting and prayer places of the pilgrims on their way to St Jack of Compostelle.

When we were walking back to her bungalow, we met a naked couple and friendly words were exchanged. I felt no out of place curiosity to stare at them and see how they were built. Séverine said : if you say but a single word, hello, for instance, you look at the person in the eyes and it prevents you for feeling awkward ! We passed by a grand-mother also in the nude (what else ? Sorry, time for coffee ? Let us carry on a bit), pushing a pram with a sleeping child and a few peaceful words were said too, with smiles. Several men rode bicycles and the same scenario took place each time. Séverine warned me that my presence would not remain unnoticed, that a village is a village even if I could think I was in a peculiar one ! In spite of it, I never felt ill at ease during that day. Séverine uttered the need of a little nap, so she promptly pulled her two transats on the lawn in front of the bungalow and quickly went to sleep.

I took my notebook and started to think about my next science-fiction chapter and to throw my ideas on the paper. Alia, the she-cat had appeared before we lied down ; I had liked her at once and had been granted the tip of tongue salute ! I stroked her and softly talked to her now and then. Séverine soon opened her eyes and asked what I was writing. When I told her, she jumped on her feet and just said : let’s go somewhere, quick follow me, I guess you will be interested …

At that time, Séverine had only her pareo on I still wore my linen dress and hurried up behind her, feeling self-conscious, knowing that only my hat was not incongruous ! Fortunately, we walked on a side bushy lane, with many bungalows turning their back to it. We stopped in front of one of them, behind the verandah of which we could perceive a lady busy. Séverine introduced me by the between fifty-five-and-sixty-year-old lady, Typhaine, an artist and also the person in charge of the camp cats, two of these furry chums being present. I learnt that Alia had never accepted to come at Typhaine’s while Séverine was away, that she insisted on being fed on the spot ! Alia never accepted to enter Séverine’s bungalow either, probably fearing to be trapped inside !

There, I had trouble not to look at Typhaine the Artist’s body, as a true conversation began. I succeeded in not letting my eyes wander because she showed us what was a marvellous discovery for me. Typhaine the Artist is passionate in Middle Age world and history, and is building miniature villages with typical houses, farms, minute furniture inside as well, churches, a convent with the chapel, the sisters’ cells, the dining-room, the cloister with the inner garden, all that made lively with the presence of tiny characters and animals, not made by her but ordered. Her material is basalt wood, even camembert boxes ! A tremendous and successful work, sometimes under a helpful big focusing lens. She dates her passion from the time when she got acquainted with Ellis Peters’ detective novels. I remembered that Anaëlle had lent me one of the British novelist’s books once and that I had bought one, that is still in my maiden room at Brest ! I mentally promised myself to read Brother Cadfael’s detective inquiries again.

Séverine pointed at some other works of art, made of tree branches and some roots, become dens, or houses for … the Invisible People. I felt, may be wrongly, that the lady was unwilling to reveal details about that part of her artistic work and I dared not insist, though burning to know more ! Next time ? We said goodbye to that pleasant and mysterious lady and went back to Séverine’s bungalow, after she mentioned that the bungalow next to the lady artist’s was the lady’s companion’s, a man studying spiders, mygales mainly. Séverine felt I almost shivered and asserted that mygales were not accepted inside the camp !

Once back, it was between 4.30 and 5 pm, Séverine decided : it does not matter any longer at that time of the day whether you keep your dress or not, I want you to visit the whole camp. Let’s go for an Italian coffee by the swimming-pool. We saw the tennis courts, people playing, other people bathing in the sun, we vainly looked for the goats and the cow. Séverine met people she knew, each time explaining I was there for the first time. We hailed the elderly couple with the dog already met at noon, but now suitable not suited, resting in their garden. I can conclude that I would not have had to make a big effort to go and swim in the pool, if I had previously agreed to undress and put the pareo Séverine had kindly handed me, without insisting, around my body, before our big tour round the camp. I was feeling as naked anyway, as I had not taken my handbag ! Funny, no ? Yes, and in fact, not ready !

After that, we worked together under the roof covering the wooden terrasse, from 5 to 8 pm. I thought that was how I had imagined Luther Redtimber’s house, I told Séverine about it and I added a rocking-chair would be nice ! Sun shone most of the day, clouds quickly crossed the sky, shedding two shy showers while we were working, for her first, for me next.

If you were happy I came that day, Séverine, be sure I was too. We will manage, you as I, in what we plan. That particular day, I saw no top models, no anorexic persons, I grasped sights of ordinary « silhouettes », fat, plump, slim, young or less, old and tired but all beautiful because natural-looking and shame-free.