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By the Fireplace at the Centre Hélio-Marin
When the rest of the world imagines a French Christmas, the mind drifts to certain clichés: steaming mulled wine in Alpine ski chalets, the glowing lights of the Champs-Élysées, and heavily layered wool sweaters against a biting Parisian chill. But in the deep south of France, along the Mediterranean coast between Montpellier and the Spanish border, a different kind of holiday tradition takes root. Here, in the world’s oldest and most revered naturist villages, Christmas is celebrated with a distinct lack of fabric and a surplus of authenticity. nudist french christmas celebration part 1 nudist naturist
We watched Jean-Claude , a retired engineer of 72, give his wife Claudine a hand-knitted scarf. He was completely naked, his body showing the map of a long life—scars from a hernia surgery, sagging skin, the proud stoop of age. She wrapped the scarf around her neck, leaving the rest of her body bare. They kissed. It was more intimate than any lingerie-ad Christmas you have ever seen. By the Fireplace at the Centre Hélio-Marin When
As the sun sets around 5:00 PM, guests gather in the salon . Because there are no pockets, drinks are held in hand. A pastis or a Kir Royale warms the stomach. The conversation is lively. You notice that without the armor of clothing, body language is more honest. A laugh is a full-body contraction; a kind word is accompanied by a hand on a bare shoulder. The social friction that exists in clothed parties—the worry about stains on your silk shirt or a fallen hem—is entirely absent. We watched Jean-Claude , a retired engineer of
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