Chapter 2

As we gobbled down pizza and cola, the two kids asked about a million questions. Would there be other kids there? (Yes, definitely.) What would there be to do there? (Swimming, volleyball, basketball, hiking, watching the stars at night, darts, Internet, hot tub, mini-putt golf). Can we sleep in the nude? Like tonight? (Yes. We need to wear clothes during the trip from here to there, but not inside the house and not in the resort.) What clothes do we need? (The outfit you wear on the road tomorrow you can wear going back, and maybe a sweatshirt or something for the cooler nights.)

The kids discovered packing for a naturist trip is far easier and lighter than packing for a textile vacation: instead of a suitcase and backpack each, they only needed the backpacks, which held their games, books and other entertainment. The suitcases o' doom, packed with a week's worth of clothes each, stayed in my living room.

As we'd promised them, they were allowed to sleep in the nude that night. Over breakfast both admitted it was their first time doing that, and that it was comfortable. Both had had difficulty getting to sleep because they were excited (or nervous) at being in the buff for the next two weeks, but despite that both had actually slept a full night.

The original plan had been for Sheila and myself to leave early that Friday morning, but now that we had two mouths to feed — one of them a teenager with all that implies in terms of calorie consumption — we made a quick pit-stop at the grocery store first. Shopping while most people are at work means you CAN get parking for your car plus tent trailer, plus you get through the grocery much faster.

And every five minutes, instead of "are we there yet," we got a chorus of "can we get nude yet" from Cindy — and that was before we'd gotten to the grocery store. Eight year olds are indeed natural naturists.

By 11:00, I was pointing the car wheels into the lane leading to the naturist resort. As we passed through the gate into the parking lot, Sheila had taken her sun dress off and the girls were worming their way out of their shorts. By the time I had the car parked, the three ladies were dressed in their finest birthday suits.

First stop, as always, was the registration office. "Hi, George, Sheila," called the sky-clad young man behind the counter. "Who are these? Guests?"

"My nieces, Candy and Cindy. A last-minute addition, as my sister is off on a last-minute business trip. Girls, meet Paul. His parents started this resort about what, forty years ago, Paul? He and his wife are the current owners."

"About that, I think. I'm grooming my son and daughter to take over after me." Paul indicated a handsome young man about Candy's age standing behind him, who gave us a shy wave before heading out to the riding mower.

We quickly registered and towed the trailer to our assigned spot.

One thing I hadn't been aware of was that neither girl had been RV'ing at all, textile or naturist. The process of getting the trailer into the site, hooking up the power and all the ancillary tasks required to make even a tent trailer habitable was new and fascinating to them both. Pretty soon we had ourselves squared away, and I took them on an eye-opening trip around the resort, showing off the pool, the sports areas, and the woods. Candy also got a good look, I noticed, at Paul's son Mike.

The lavatory and shower building was another source of curiosity for them. Like many naturist resorts, it was unisex. The urinals were on the far side of the toilets, but the shower room itself was just a large square room ringed with 10 shower heads placed about a metre apart.

We met Paul's daughter Melissa playing at the pool. Melissa is about Cindy's age, and the two girls hit it off right away. I unleashed my nieces on the unsuspecting pool, and the two of us settled in lounge chairs to relax until our little mermaids got hungry enough to actually emerge from the vasty deep.

It was shortly after our (late) lunch that I got called to the club room, which had large windows overlooking the pool area. I was wanted on the phone there. As I could have predicted, Mommy Dearest was checking to ensure her daughters were safe. "Yes, they're having a fine time. They're enjoying yet another swim."