Parisian naturists in the Bois de Vincennes have complained about voyeurs ruining things for them. Nudists have been allowed to do their thing in the park for two years, but it seems they are being spied upon. I sympathise, but also wonder – in the spirit of an age-old conundrum – if nudists in a forest are actually nudists at all if no one is watching them. If you are hidden away, in your own special area, you kind of invite fascination. How much better if there were nudists everywhere.
In 1992, I cycled from Hamburg to Zagreb, passing through both Germanys (though united by then, they felt very different), the Czech Republic, Austria, Slovakia and Hungary. I saw many wondrous things along the way, none more so than a small urban park I pedalled past in the middle of Berlin. It was a sunny autumn lunchtime and the park was busy with office workers taking a break. Doing a comedy double-take, I saw that many of these people had removed all their clothes and were sunbathing quite naked. All sizes and shapes of birthday suits were on display.
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