I've always been intrigued by French customs, most prominently the topless custom. I remember visiting the beaches in Normandy and Brittany with my family when I was a kid, being shocked and awed by the sheer numbers of topless women, both the old and wrinkley and beautifully ripe types. Without any choice about it, I felt a bit prude and stand-offish, especially when asked to strip down on the beach in front of everyone in order to get into my bathingsuit. Looking around, finding NO changing stations, I cried out: "HERE!?!?!" asking my grandmother how I COULD ever DO such a thing, in front of so many strangers. I guess she just as shocked as I - that a young kid could have as many hang-ups as I did about nudity, though she kindly entertained my fears and held up a towel to hide my young body from lingering eyes.
As I grew older, I continually tried my best to be open about body, whether it be in changing rooms, school lockers or what have you, as I became more and more intrigued by public exposure of one's physical attributions; just like Normandy dairy products and Parisian PDA (public display of affection) nudity too, had become a "symbolic" custom of France, to which I had become drawn-in.
Having said this, it was my goal to be 100% "OPEN" about my physicality while living and working in France this year. Initially, I promised myself to visit nude beaches in the South of France as soon as the opportunity was made available to me. I imagined myself laying out on the crowded beaches of Nice and Cannes amongst hundreds of gorgeous men and women, without a hang-up and without a care.
Unfortunately, when travelling to the South of France (Nimes, Avignon, Montpellier) I did not incorporate Cannes or Nice into the itinerary - for reasons according to financial, scheduling and weather problems.
However, when April rolled around and passed me by, I was committed to going nude, somehow, knowing it would be tricky with the 3 1/2 weeks of cold rainy weather hitting France.
So, I looked up German baths, having heard rumour that they too believed in going nude. That is, thanks to several collegues of mine, I caught the name and remembered hearing about Caracalla, which was located in the small roman city named Baden-Baden in the Baden region of Germany.
I planned to bike out from Strasbourg, France to Kehl, the neighboring German city across the bridge, where from I'd catch the train to Baden-Baden. From there, I'd be navigate through the black forest on bike to the famous spa in order to carry out one of my remaining goals before returning home to the Puritanical States...but due to scheduling problems, I didn't catch the train, and was forced to take a bus (subsequently leaving my bike behind.) The way there was long, but enjoyable. I was psyched to relax and unwind in the hot baths, and to check out the massage options at a spa; after all, I've never treated myself to a day at the spa, nor to a professional massage (with the exception of the free one I received after completing the 50mile bike race in southern Maine, years ago.)
I got to Baden-Baden and followed the signs to the spa, and what a quaint town it was! Beautiful, ritsy, classy as any city I'd ever seen. I enjoyed the city stroll to the spa and the stroll continued throughout the afternoon, having realized that I wouldn't get in a massage appointment until 8:00pm that night...(that is, since the spa charged by the hour, I decided to enjoy the baths for the 3 hours prior to getting the massage, putting me in the water sometime around 4.)
After climbling the hills, walking the back streets and snapping photos of the Black Forest mountains in the distance from the hilltops, I built up an appetite and grabbed a late lunch at some Lebanese kebab joint. (YUM YUM lemajun/lebanese pizza!)
With about an hour's time to work off the calories before getting into a bathingsuit, or stipping down to my birthdaysuit, I visited the famous Baden-Baden casino, and parks before returning to my destination.
Around 4 I checked in to the spa. 15 euros for 2 hours...45 mins or so downstairs with the huge heated (indoor and outdoor) pools, and then 1 hour 15 upstairs with all the nudists...
The pools were pretty awesome, especially considering how cool the spring air was. Heated whirlpools and olympic-sized swimming holes were just what I needed to relax after a long schoolyear!
Yet, I grew bored after 45 mins and I decided to go upstairs. Before entering, I read the sign demanding nudity upon entering: NUDISTS ONLY. "Awesome!" I thought, as I stripped off my wet bathingsuit, disrobing to my bare skin.
I found the upstairs to be more interesting than the downstairs portion for sure, as it was incredibly adorned with all sorts of luxurious spa options such as 100% glass-encased steam rooms, heat-lamp lounge charis, bubbling personalized jacoozis, cool pools and cold shower rooms...and not to mention nude men and women of all ages...delightful!
The absolute highlight was walking nude to the outdoor segment of the upstairs nudist spa and to the gardens where there was located 2 rustic wood-burning saunas (literally with crackling fires) at increasing temperatures. 5 mins in each building was enough to break into the best sweat of my life. It felt AMAZING! Sweating beads on ever inch of my body paid off when I exited outdoors again, into the crisp mountain air. AHhhhhhh. I sat outside with a towel wrapped around my bottom for a couple minutes before returning inside.
I laid down for about 30mins next to a bunch of other nudists, and remained quiet. It wasn't one bit awkward or strange; it was BEAUTIFUL...it was liberating. I had never felt more beautiful, or free about my physicality...about others' perceptions of me. In fact, I didn't care all of a sudden about anyone looking at me. It didn't matter! There was nothing to hide and there was nothing to lose.
When my 2 hours were up, I robed myself again and headed over to the bar, just outside the spa area, in the same building, in order to enjoy an over-sized German beer before treating myself to 25 min professional massage. I read a little bit of C.S Lewis' The Great Divorce while making interspersed conversation with the bartender about Boston and Strasbourg and skipped up to my appt, which was much more than relaxing. I near fell asleep. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. The art of massage - definitely one of my FAVORITE things!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was beginning to grow dark after finishing up around 8:40, and I thought it was about time to make my way back to Strasbourg...I had to work the next day, and I knew I'd have a bikeride from Kehl to Strasbourg ahead of me before hitting the pillow...
Unfortunately, I had grown much too relaxed to be concerned about checking out the train schedules. Purposefully making sure to have a relaxing day of enjoyment and fulfillment, I didn't want to worry about anything like that, but I paid the price when I shivered for 3 1/2 hours outside an abandoned train station in Germany, half-way between Baden-Baden and Strasbourg, where there was not a store, nor a person in sight for miles...
I filled my time with walking aimlessly and reading, while shivering, nearly forgetting how relaxed I had been just hours before, when finally around midnight I caught the LAST train to Strasbourg (having decided to leave my bike at the German border in order to catch my shud-eye, which would at least allow for a pleasant run over the border the next day to get it back.)
The next day at work I ranted and raved about the spa, and begged my friends to return, and though others had expressed interest, it never happened.
Instead, I made plans with my friend and collegue, Petra, to make a trip to Basel, Switzerland to check out the city-life and mountain-views down there. She was up for it, though a bit deschevaled when meeting at the train station, when coming to find that she left her wallet behind...so much for catching the train to Switzerland!!
We decided to drive instead, abandoning the thought to get correcting finished on the trainride. Though I didn't want to force her to drive unwillingly, I was happy to have a car-ride. I love carrides (they're indeed one of my favorite passtimes, especially when they're shared with good company!)
We planned to hit up the Beyeler Foundation to see whatever exhibit was on display, and considering the BEAUTIFULLYYYYYYY gorgeous, sunny weather, I suggested taking a walk along the Rhine river.
Luckily though, Petra knew of a better idea: SWIMMING down the Rhine!
She packed a fish (a little buoy-contraption into which you can place all your personal items while floating down the river) and a bathingsuit (as did I, just in case...) and we made out way into the cold, Alpine mountain-chilled waters of the Rhine...
It was a perfect end to a perfect day, a delightful disrobed adventure in Basel, Switzerland. I let out a terrible SCREAMMMMM when dunking my head under, and floated down alongside Petra, while laughing and paddling for my life, feeling my limbs going numb.
To finish up our day, after walking around the museum and getting chilled, we took down a couple more over-sized German beers while (finally) getting down some corrections and school paper-work (which had too "swum" down the Rhine with us in the fish-contraption!) amidst random conversation and laughs.
At sundown, we caught one last glimpse of the city, eclipsed and shadowed by the sun setting behind the Alps and it was breath-taking. I wanted to take 100 pictures, but limited myself to three...the memory of these disrobed adventures would have to stick within the realm of my imagination...
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