Sorry about my absence the past couple of days.
Yesterday was one of Portugal’s three annual Independence Days and I opted to show my solidarity with the Portuguese People by joining in the massive traffic-jam crossing the 25th of April Bridge, the massive traffic jam on the IC-20, the massive traffic jam on road that goes along the coast, the massive traffic jam on the dirt road leading to the Praia da Bela Vista, and then having to weave my away around the parking lot and back out to park along the dirt road leading to the beach.
I ended up staying at the beach until almost 4, which was at least an hour and a half later than I planned on staying, but it was all good: I laid out for hours, enjoying the sunshine, listening to the waves, watching the cute men, and just being there.
The beach is one of the few places where I can quite happily do nothing and not feel guilty.
I’ve been to the beach every day since last Wednesday—which makes today’s trip the eight day in a row, although today I got up early and was on the beach at about 9:15. I was going to eat lunch at the beach’s restaurant, but unfortunately the frames on my glasses broke and I decided that I needed to get new frames immediately, which I was able to do in the afternoon—using the old lenses.
My time on the beach is pretty consistent, from day to day. I park the car and walk between half a kilometer and a kilometer south along the coast, find a spot that is protected by the grasses, but with a bit of a breeze to cool me off, before laying out the towel, taking off all my duds, and spreading out to maximize coverage.
There isn’t a spot on the exterior of my body that hasn’t been bathed in sunlight. Yes, CQ, even there. Ed-that part too. I had to use my hands, but I did get that part as well, Reko.
Meanwhile, a word of advice for men who find me attractive: I seriously appreciate the fact that you find me attractive and thank you for your attention. But, here’s the deal: if you’re wanking over me, that’s fine, but if I haven’t noticed after five minutes, the odds are I have noticed and I would strongly prefer that while you are wanking over me, you aren’t wanking *over* me. Go beat off somewhere else—If I wanted to actively participate, I would have indicated my wanton desires pretty explicitly.
Gee, a gay nude beach in Portugal. I really must go hang out with you sometime, literally. Though I might scare the local boys with my “…it could happen to you, you know…” oddities. *shrugs*
Then again, you seemed shocked when CQ junior flashed you in South Africa, so maybe this won’t be happening.
The guy wanking over you thing is a bit creepy. It’s one thing to wank out on the beach like that, but quite another to do it over you. Are you and I just being too American or something?
CQ: Maybe I am too prudish around you… I dunno. Maybe I’m changing.
Frankly, I’m not sure why you’d be prudish around me. Heck, I’d admit I’d look but then in the beach situation it’s not like it would be only me and you.
Nudity isn’t a huge deal to me as I tend to look at it as everyone has a body.
I am stuck in the mindset that if I’m doing nothing, I’m not being productive. I hate it and want to change! Time to move out of the U.S.!
Did you snap any pics of the traffic? Sounds nasty.
@cq: As I said, I think I’m changing. Probably for the better.
@Scott: I don’t have any fresh photos of the traffic — i tend not to take anything valuable with me to the beach — I leave everything in the car, except the car key–the everything being my passport, drivers license, and mobile. There is an older photo of traffic on my flickr stream–I’ll try to find it the next time I have lots of time at a computer.
~~remember, the beach is the only place I feel good doing nothing!