The Naked Truth About Cap d'Agde

The silent question of the sun-bathers watching us discretely as we lay our towels down in the warm sand hangs in the air: Are they going to take their clothes off or not?

Cap d'Agde in southern France is hosting Europe's biggest nudist village. I'm not sure how I came here. The sign "nudist village" just caught my travel companion's eyes in a round-about. Without thinking much he obeyed his instant curiousity and let the sign lead the way to this naked village.

Surrounded by walls, the village feels strangely medioval. In a café outside the walls a high fashion-dressed Cap d'Agder named Patrik serves us coffee and pineapple juice.

- You definitely have to see it,

he says when we admit feeling tempted to enter the nudist village. Patrik gives us a wide smile and keeps on praizing "the good quality" of the village. We are sold.

After a five-euro entrance fee a guard opens the gates of sesame to us. Inside waits the every-day life of an ordinary village. People going to the supermarkets. People looking for places to park their cars in crowded streets. People strolling to the beach with bags casually hanging on their shoulders. The only difference is that some of them are naked.

When we reach the beach a a sign calls out:

"Here we are naked. How about you?"

Nudity is not mandatory in the village, but if you go to the beach and keep your clothes on you might get some questions from the horse-riding police officers that patrol around the village. People who come here only to watch are not appreciated.

So, am I a watcher or a true nudist? Some of the guests at the beach don't even try to hide that they are looking at us. The tension makes me breath faster, makes me feel more alive. We look back at them. And let our clothes fall to the ground.

Lina Myte