Kaalgat Perskes

Summers in Europe...need I say more! Such a big difference from where I come from. And we are SO going to make the best of it. We love living here. And because the Netherlands are full of canals, rivers, ponds, lakes and dams, we decided that it is time for our first swim this summer on a lekker sandy riverbed somewhere in our town. The previous day we went for a run, and we saw a bunch of cars parked next to the road and lots of people making their way down towards the river. The beach area was not visible from the road, and all the trees made it look pretty, shady and just right for a nice relaxed afternoon of swimming.

After our afternoon braai, we packed our strandsak, load the bicycles with snacks, wine and kids. (In that order) We grabbed our plakkies and sonbrille and off we went to the apparently very popular swimming area, 2.5km from our house. Upon arrival, we fell into a line as the pathway that leads towards the sand was really narrow and quite busy with people coming and going. Oh how we looked forward to the shady trees and a marshmallow braai on our portable contraption thingy that came along.

But somehow, someway, we missed something. Because as we reached the trees, and walked up the small sand dune (packed like donkeys with food, bags, kids, blow-up floating devices that is already blown up) (jaa I know…the cycling was very entertaining) …we kind of had to stop and look and look again to register…

It took a few seconds before we realized that noooo…they can’t be all wearing flesh coloured costumes. Noooo….we are not mistaken….noooo…can it be?....A sea of aged, milky-white , gekreukelde European skin after a very cold winter, greeted us…sunbathing BUTT-NAKED…some are lying down face-up, others are face-down, some are standing, some are just….strolling…and some are exploring their surroundings picking up shells and little pretty stones on the river banks. There were a handful that were so tanned, it looked like pieces of terracotta leather drying out in the sun. Some are even standing in groups chatting like old friends…naked! So kaal soos die Kalahari I am telling you! Every single one of them! No tan lines!

Nou kyk nê, I do not consider myself a koek, but as ‘n typical well-brought up Suid Afrikaanse meisie from Pretoria, (my husband is from Witbank so I am only speaking for myself over here) I was a bit geskok hey! I mean, my mom wore crimpilene dresses and a hat to church and I was only allowed to wear a bikini at the pool at home. Once I put on a mini skirt and my dad asked me if I forgot to put on my pants. My mom tried to interrupt him with “maar Jannie, toe ons jonk was in die 60’s toe het al die girls minis gedra”, at which my dad just answered: “een van die redes hoekom ek met jou getrou het skatlam.”

Anycase, luckily, I was carrying the blow-up floating doughnuts and my kids were walking behind me. Trying hard to protect their innocence, I put one on each side of my fully clothed body as to create a diversion, pointing to random stuff with my head, started talking about whatever popped into my head… like boobs, I mean boats and penis, I mean plants…and bushes...

I was not successful.

We gooied a quick right behind some trees and caught our breaths. It is one thing to see a naked person tanning in the sun, it is quite another seeing a naked OLD guy from behind bending over like a giraffe exploring the wonders of nature in the cool river streams. We sat down behind a big tree, and some reeds, eyes wide like some tannies se middellywe, and our minds working overtime…fight, flight or freeze?...

My girls quickly caught on. They looked at us, at them, at us, at them…trying to see if we figured it out, trying to judge our reactions. We looked at each other, to them, to the kids, to each other again, and silently concluded ‘may the best poker-face take the lead to sort this one out’.

It was I. My poor husband could not stop giggling.

My girls could not believe that some people prefer not wearing clothes. In fact, my youngest actually got up again to get a good look, came back to sit down, and asked if they also put sunscreen on their totties. Good question!

At that specific moment, one of the older male nudists decided to walk around the trees where we were trying to unsee what we just saw. As naked as the day he was born, with only some flipflops (which was not the only thing that flippedflopped), King Dingeling decided to walk straight past us (now remember we are sitting down, so all tools and jewels are eye-level).

Gravitasie het definitief sy tol geeis.

“Goede middag” he greeted cheerfully, looking us straight in our eyes. And even though it was hard to keep eye-contact, we greeted back. My youngest just couldn’t. Her next observation was something in the line of that she never knew buts can be wrinkled. We decided it is a good time to leave, before the next adventurous nudist decided to explore his surroundings as well.

While packing, we scouted for a path that leads away from where we came from, thinking that this was officially our shortest picnic ever. But definitely the most memorable. We have seen the world in just a few minutes…from Paraguay straight through to Holland. This unexpected teachable moment created a great opportunity to talk about our beliefs, ball-sacks and butt-wrinkles. Mostly with a straight face (from my side).

Back home (after we both downed a beer), we checked google maps. And there clear as daylight…Naakstrand Vuren.

A bit more sun exposure than we were looking for…