Well, I’m on my last day, everyone else has just about left over the past two days (which I booked extra) so I thought I’d get today’s slightly out of the ordinary adventures down before I get back to updating you on the last week.
The sub-title of today’s post is “Cuts and Ass” aka my mishaps at the nudist beach. I haven’t told anyone in my family about this blog so this is a story I can safely tell.
Me and Gavin and Bea went to Lokrum Island today just off Dubrovnik, a nature reserve full of history and also known for its nudey beaches. Well I am on holiday and it’s not every day you can go skinny dipping without people looking at you funny, so after we had a walk around and saw the other sights, I left Gavin and Bea and headed to check out the nudist beach.
I don’t really see it as a big deal stripping off like that if everyone else is so I wasn’t really embarrassed, but it was actually a very cool experience. No-one there (well almost no-one) is perving, certainly unlike most normal beaches, and because everybody is nude nobody really bothers or pays attention. The view across the Adriatic was amazing and just lying there getting the full heat of the sun all over was just great.
Oh and occasionally some naked honeys would walk past. Perfect.
It was actually one of my highlights of the stay in Croatia, just absolutely relaxing. That is, until the usual Alan mishaps began to occur.
The first spoiler was when a skinny Irish bloke stood over me (don’t even try and picture it it was horrible). He asked me if the water was OK. I said yeah it was cold but nice. He asked how long I was here, where I was from blah blah. When I said Glasgow he said “oh yeah I hear Glasgow has a great gay scene”. I thought “oh for fuck’s sake…”. He then asked me if I wanted to meet him tonight!!
I told him I couldn’t as I had a very early flight the next morning, but in hindsight maybe that was a bit of a lame excuse. A direct “I’m not gay” might have done a better job, but then I guess when I said it I was worried that might sound like he was being really blatant and obvious. Which he was. Maybe that would have been nicer on his feelings though rather than a straight rejection. And a straight rejection it certainly was. I was thinking though, even if I was gay, I very much doubt that a skinny Irish guy with a tiny penis would be my type. He really shouldn’t chat people up on a nudist beach, it can’t do him any favours.
I’m always telling people that people always think I’m gay. I don’t know what it is about me, but it’s definitely true.
As the sun moved around I moved along the beach to a better spot, coincidentally near two spectacularly beautiful sunbathing girls. A spot of luck that was. I decided after a bit of sunbathing to go swimming again, but the area I was in was very rocky so it was a bit of a chore getting in, and I was keen not to humiliate myself in front of the girls. I got in fine and swum around for a little bit, it was great.
As I tried to get out, the waves got very strong and I had trouble getting a footing. All of the ‘beaches’ were rocky, but this one particularly so. I got to a part where I could stand on a rock just a foot or so underwater, and then climb out. But this rock was narrower than I thought, and as I put my other foot down it was straight into the sea. My whole body plummeted a few metres, and just as I got back up to the surface a wave came in which bashed me right into the side of the huge rock in front of me. I grabbed onto the side and held on trying to get a footing and the next couple of waves came in rubbing my body against the rocks. Eventually I got out and as I stumbled up onto the dry rocks, I was greeted by three naked German men who had seen me disappear and had rushed over to check I was OK! It was surreal.
I climbed back up past the honeys and to my sunbathing spot and I lay down on my towel to recuperate, only to realise that my whole left arm was covered in bout 30 or 40 tiny cuts, all showing blood but none thankfully gushing. Both my hands were cut, my foot was cut too. I looked a mess.
I licked my wounds and sunbathed a bit more, before packing up to get the last boat home, which the honeys were doing too. I was able to gain back some of my dignity by helping the two of them up the steep rocks from where they were sunbathing to where I was, and towards the path out of the beach.
The lessons from today:
(1) Sharp rocks and nudity do not mix.
(2) Gay Irish guys will try to pick up *anywhere*.
(3) Needing to be rescued by three naked German men is almost worse than drowning.