With each dash into the deliciously warm waves, however, I became less self-conscious. And as the day wore on a lovely sense of liberation came over me. The best thing about nudist beaches is that they do away with the usual “am-I-too-old-to-wear-a-bikini?” trauma. (Forget BBC series with bonnets and bustles, this is the true “costume drama”.) When clad in swimwear, we women are constantly comparing ourselves to a babe or contestant. But whereas muffin tops, thunder thighs, pendulous boobs, flat chests, lumps, bumps and baby marks make beachgoing a torture for mere mortals who are not “beach-body ready”, being naked makes you feel exotic, unique and beautiful in your own way.

















