Sunny

Having been discussing the beauty therapy benefits of naturism in the northern climate on Annie Beags’ blog over on the Western Isles I thought it was only fair to warn everyone that Cleats Shore near Kilmory on the west coat of Arran is the only official nudist beach in Scotland as far as I know. Having said that it’s not exactly a wall to wall flesh pot. So Calumannabel, should we start our Nuddy Beach for Lewis Campaign now so the fanksters can top up their blue bits? Give reasons why Lewis deserves it’s own nudist beach here. Perhaps we could have some suggestions regarding which beach would be ideal or maybe reasons against? Here’s part of an article from a well known Scottish newspaper giving some pro’s and cons:

Nudism: is it time to grin and bare it?
Scottish beaches get rave reviews in a new book on naturism. A fully clothed Adrian Turpin investigates

Scotland and nudism — an unlikely mix? You might think so but Nick Mayhew, the author of the naturist guidebook Bare Britain, is out to correct a few misconceptions. “Up until 100 years ago, when people went swimming in Scotland they would have stripped off,” he says. “Look at Rob Roy. Remember Liam Neeson famously swimming in the nude?” It may come as a shock to discover that Rob Roy MacGregor was a proto-naturist, skinny-dipping between skirmishes, sunning himself in the altogether, hands on hips by the banks of Loch Voil. But the rest of what Mayhew, a 36-year-old London-based travel writer, had to say this week was even more surprising. Scotland’s beaches are apparently a naturist’s paradise. “As someone who has written a naturist guide to Europe, I can say that Scotland is the most beautiful place in it,” says Mayhew. “For me, it’s a wilderness thing. It’s nice having your own bit of wilderness.”

There is, in fact, only one official nudist beach in Scotland: Cleat’s Shore, in the south of Arran. “I suspect it’s probably the least visited nudist beach in the known universe,” says Mayhew. The other sites mentioned in the guide — including Glenaladale by Loch Shiel, Glengarrisdale Bay in north Jura and Loch Arienas in Morvern — have been chosen for their mixture of remoteness and beauty but are offered with a warning: “If you do decide to enjoy a spot of unofficial skinny-dipping, do so with care and respect for others. If in doubt, cover up rather than risk offending.”
As for the small matter of the climate: “I was swimming in Sanna Bay near Ardnamurchan Point earlier this month,” says Mayhew. “Not for very long, but some of the word’s most famous bare-bathers are Swedish. Compared to Scotland, that’s a lot colder. In the far north of the country, there’s a naturist beach inside the Arctic Circle. In midsummer, you get 24-hour sunlight.” And has he found an answer to intimate midge bites? “Isn’t that what everyone wants to know? I’ll sell you that for a million quid,” he says.
But as the Bare Britain guide admits: “It’s not only the midges that can make life unbearable for bare bathers.” Naturists may be ready for the west coast, but are the locals ready for naturists? One of the beaches also singled out by Bare Britain is Glasnacardoch on the Ardnish peninsula, locally known as the “singing sands” because of the noise made as you walk over it. Are the locals aware that they are living near a nudist hot (or should that be cold) spot? “I can honestly say I’ve never seen anyone nude round here. It wouldn’t go down very well at all. It’s a place for families,” says Jilly Jones, who runs the Old Library Lodge hotel in Arisaig. Maybe that’s a sign of how discreet they are? “I don’t think there’s an awful lot to hide behind down there to be honest,” says Jones. You’re sure you’re not missing out on a niche market? “I’m not missing out on anything.”
Wouldn’t coachloads of Danes and Germans, not deterred by the weather but eager to be buffed to a high gloss by the Atlantic gales, provide just the shot in the arm which the Highland economy needs? Wouldn’t you be tempted, I ask Jones, if VisitScotland offered to pay for a free advert in Health and Efficiency magazine? “I don’t think so,” she says. “I’d rather people just kept their clothes on. Normally nudists are just old people who tend to let it all hang out.”
The writer and Highland historian John MacLeod, a native of Harris, adds: “It is difficult to think of a nudist invasion without an awful lot of hilarity. The horizontal rain. The icy chill of the Atlantic. Bumpy, wobbly flesh. Unspeakable.” As the son of a minister and an occasional outspoken commentator on public morality, however, MacLeod’s objections go beyond the aesthetic. “The fact is we are meant to be clothed,” he says. “The English language suggests that. ‘Stripped’, ‘naked’, ‘nude’ are all synonyms for diminished. The whole point of clothing is that it’s a social discipline. To put it crudely, it’s there to cover signs of sexual arousal. Men and women, boys and girls, naked together is an affront on many levels. The naturist thing is an assault on decency. There is something very aggressive about it.”
What would be the reaction of the typical minister to a nudist invasion of the west coast? “Horror, pity and disgust I should imagine,” says MacLeod plainly. “After the Fall of Man, one of the very first things in the new order was clothing. First fig leaves, then animal skins.”
Rebranding the Western Isles as a nudist riviera from Butt to Barra may have to wait a while yet.