Hey is that a pear with no skin?
March 8, 2006Waiheke Island, New Zealand
8:31pm
Well, I convinced her.
Actually it wasn’t that hard, and of course, as I giggled through every minute, Steph managed to disrobe and flaunt the top shelf with a certain elegance and natural grace. Beneath the equator remained concealed; she is a free bird, but still a bit of a lame duck.
I, on the other hand, dropped my shorts (no underwear, I think the last time I wore them was back in Christchurch in November) and faked being relaxed all the while trying to telepathically convince the hammer to quit receding into my pear shaped body and come out and see the world.
Of course like every other nude beach I have been to (last count? Two), the majority of the patrons were people in their mid to late sixties. Sure there were a couple of people our age or younger, but mostly they were single guys lying in poses where nothing is left to the imagination.
As mentioned prior, a number of Waiheke residents are true hippies from the sixties, thus the reason for the people sixty or over dappled up and down the nude beach. My reasons for coming to a nude beach are equally split into thirds, captured perfectly by Stephanie the first time we discussed potentially coming to this beach. One third is strictly voyeuristic. I don’t care the shape, or the age, or even admittedly the sex; I just like seeing naked people. The freedom is sexy to me.
The next third is me being this free, not caring about what I look like, feeling less inhibited then if I was wearing a simple bathing suit.
The last third is so I can tell people I went on a nude beach, which I guess I am doing right now. I am not a complex man.
You may question the bringing of Hudson to this type of beach, but I don’t. He chose to wear his suit, and couldn’t care less about the naked people, ages ranging from three to 75. A cynic may peer down the beach, looking for the pedophile, but I choose to believe in the ideal that people sometimes like being naked, lying on a white sand beach, occasionally swimming in a clear blue ocean. It is a special feeling.
I would be remiss in mentioning that just prior to leaving a couple of young hippie chicks arrived, disrobed and galloped into the ocean. They were not old. They had no tan lines. Ahem. Down boy.
Before embarking on our nude beach adventure we took a drive to Whakanewha National Park and did a short loop walk which included some Maori relics and some very scenic lookouts back to Auckland and down the beach.
Hud always complains about this walks as they commence and thirty seconds later he is the happiest kid in New Zealand, poking at shells of bugs and running through dense, fern laden forests. Kids are fickle. Lesson number 3423 on this trip.
This is the third last post before leaving in six days. I will not keep up this journal after we return home. It was about the journey and I have other, more arcane writing outlets to release all my anxieties. This outlet was for me as well, but it was also to stay close to people back home, and to also force myself to record this 10-month trip in words.
We have taken close to 5000 pictures, but to me, sometimes the memory is captured so much better in words, even if it takes up more space.
On the page and in my heart.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 12:30 PM
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