Good plan, right?
Yeah.
I head off to Kibbutz Shefayim, to once again revel in the beauty of the sand cliffs and the Mediterranean. It's a little windy, but we decide to still head down since it's sunny and there's nothing else to do on Shabbat.
Lovely walk through the park, scramble down the cliff... Beach. Bliss.
We walk a little ways down to find somewhere where swimming wouldn't be totally dangerous (big rocks! I ended up not swimming, so don't worry), and suddenly the people-scape changes.
And by changes, I mean gets naked.
Apparently it was a nude beach.
We've been there before, and there were no nude people, but today they were out in full clothes-less force.
And by they I mean fat old men.
One guy in particular stands out as the most traumatizing one of the bunch.
He was standing facing the ocean, hands on his hips, fully naked except for the hat and shawl he wore around his shoulders to ward off the cold.
THAT'S WHAT CLOTHES ARE FOR.
Remember how I said it was windy?
Well, uh, he had a big of a flag-in-the-wind problem going on.
There was also a naked guy tanning all his lovely lady lumps, and at some point another guy came up to him and they were just laying on the sand talking and taking in the day.
The second guy? Fully clothed. I don't even know.
Needless to say, I walked as far from the naked people as possible, set down my towel, and promptly laid face-down and fully clothed.
My psychiatrist will be hearing about this twenty years down the road when I turn into a never-nude.
No comments:
Post a Comment