On March 11th, 2020, POTUS 45 declared that we had a national emergency on our hands and that it was time to close the borders and stop the Virus dead in its tracks. My wife was trying desperately to reach me by phone as I was sitting — naked — by the pool at a little naturist resort in Thailand. When I called the help desk at United Airlines, the agent had yet to hear of the presidential decree as the news had just broken on CNN. I could hear her fingers flying over her computer keyboard in an effort to reroute me from Phuket to Singapore, to San Francisco, to New York, while her call-waiting queue blew-up from 20 to 2000 customers on hold. What the hell is going on?!
If you’re like the majority of humans, you probably don’t have a great deal of experience with naked travel, or for that matter, any form of social nudity. Perhaps you will find my musings on the subject to be curious or even perplexing.
I slipped back into the United States on Friday the 13th, where I met my connecting flight from San Francisco to New York with loads of time to spare, since there were few people waiting to board the nearly empty flight that day. At this writing, that was the last time I was on an airplane, or at an airport, or most poignantly, out of the country.
This is a blog about our travels, or more specifically — but not exclusively, about our naturist travels. If you’re like the majority of humans, you probably don’t have a great deal of experience with naked travel, or for that matter, any form of social nudity. Perhaps you will find my musings on the subject to be curious, or even perplexing. Without context, walking out the front door without clothes may seem bizarre, or even fanatical. I’m happy to banter on about naturism in these pages — (or nudism as Americans like to call it) — though a blog about social nudity only captures part of the story. And I already have one of those.
Having stumbled into Medium over and again through the years, I’ve found it difficult to click away from the words of experience and wisdom of so many writers who call this their space. The splash page boasts 170 million readers as a potential sounding board for inner thoughts and ideals. Opinions and counter-arguments. It’s genuinely daunting to jump into that fray.
I have found great solace on these pages in the people who express their frustrations with the state of dysfunction in all things United States government. I’m a liberal, professor type who most certainly believes we need to “drain the swamp,” but to be absolutely forthright, my wife and I have been completely gob-smacked that 74 million Americans would want to reinstall Donald the Swamp-Master for another four years of chaos. I’d fail to make anyone’s top shelf list as a Progressive, but I most certainly believe that Black Lives Matter, and I harbor deep concern over all who are relentlessly othered, both domestically and abroad.
Traveling alone affords one the additional luxury of invisibility, as you move through the narrow streets or wander through a forest, suddenly cognizant that you are inconsequential to the world around you.
I have found profound inspiration from those who tell their quirky travel stories from the far corners of the planet, which has encouraged me to share a few of our tales: about the train that pushes its way through the crowded market in Thailand every two hours; or the days we have spent with school children in Zimbabwe and South Africa; or the exhilaration mixed with a strong dose of adrenaline and fear when surrounded by two-million other humans on Rio’s Copacabana Beach on New Year’s Eve. As the saying goes, you can’t make this S*** up.
Source: The Meandering Naturist
Original publication 24 December, 2020
Posted on NatCorn 8th January 2021
Reference to an article does not infer endorsement of any views expressed.