Fuerteventura 5


August 28, 2021



More of my Fuerteventura Adventure with Jo, continuing the flashback to spring break of 2018.


This post should really be titled Fuerteventura 5 (Stupid American Girls).  


Its about 3:30 in the afternoon and Jo and I are on a beautiful beach in Corralejo, another seaside town about 15 miles up the coast from El Cotillo.  Despite not being able to fall asleep until 2:00 am, we still managed to get an early start and roll into Corralejo on our bikes before 10:30 am.


Before we left, I suggested to Jo that we take some swim suites with us and she responded “A.  I didn’t pack any and B.  That would break our nakedness oath!”


We biked all 15 miles to Corralejo completely naked with no problems, towels clipped to the frame of our bikes.  Jo’s compromise was that we could always just cover up with towels if we ended up in a place where being naked wasn’t appropriate.  We agreed that if we are in a place where other naked people are in view, or we are totally alone, we should be naked.   If we are in a place where there are lots of clothed people and there are no other naked people in sight, we should cover up.  


We explored a couple great beaches at Corralejo and had a wonderful lunch at an ocean side food stand, never feeling the need to cover up.


Jo’s towel got soaked by a freak wave that rolled up the shore, surprising many of those on the beach.  My towel only got wet on the edges and our little day bag with id, cash, credit cards, water and sun block was fine.  We hung her towel on a railing at the stairs up from the beach to dry out and when we came back for it, it was gone.  Since we biked the whole way from El Cotillo naked, we didn’t worry much about it.  We had spare towels back at our room.


Somewhere in the middle of the long stretch of dusty seaside road back to El Cotillo, Jo’s rear wheel suddenly locked up against the frame of her bike.  The rear wheel had actually come off the sockets where it locks into the frame.  We tried to shove it back in, but the wheel just wouldn’t go.  There was a cap at the end of the wheel hub that treaded out, but we had no tools to loosen it.


Now were were naked, surrounded by nothingness, but not in a good way.  

“Jo, there was a camper by the ocean, we passed it a mile back.  Let’s see if they have any tools.”


“Great idea!”  Beamed Jo.  “You stay here with my bike, and I’ll take your bike and get tools from the campers.”  


Joe rode off, leaving me with her broken bike.  She didn’t even bother to put the towel on.


I waited about 20 minutes and a cloud of dust that was Jo, still naked, came barreling down the road.  


“Great” I said relieved.  “Where are the tools?”


“Really nice guys, but no tools”  Jo confessed.  “But they did call us a cab.  It should be here soon.”


“What the hell kind of plan is that?”  I protested.


Sure enough, another cloud of dust appeared on the road, a cab with a Danish driver who asked us to call him Spinner rolled up to us two strange, naked girls by the road.


“Hi, can you take us and these two bikes back to El Cotillo?”  We asked, feeling very foolish.


The trunk of the cab was tiny and Spinner didn’t even have any cords to secure even one bike.


“I know!”  Jo said, huddling with me to convey the new plan.  “We take the cab to Gabriella’s shop, get tools from her, jump back in the cab and take it back and fix the bike.”  


“New plan.”  She announced to Spinner.  “We just need a round trip to El Cotillo and back.”


As we opened the door to the cab, Spinner asked “Wait, don’t you have any clothes?”  


“No”, I confessed, but I unclipped our remaining towel and spread it out on the back seat of the cab.


“Do you have any money?”  He asked, and we both nodded energetically.


“Alright, get in.”  He responded, starting up the engine.


Gabriella, who was not surprised to see us stroll up to her stand naked the day before, was a bit surprised to see us both pop out of a cab, naked, wearing only our bike helmets.  When we explained what happened, she apologized sincerely and showed us a little wrench for adjusting the wheel hub and how to loosen it.  


We thanked Spinner, and tipped him generously when we got back to our bikes.  He handed us his card, just in case we needed to get rescued again, (his name was actually Charles) and he drove off.  The wrench opened up the wheel hub, which slipped back into the frame, we tightened it and were good to go.  I slipped the small wrench into our day bag with our water and other necessities.  


“Oh crap” Jo said, turning to me with a look of disappointment.


“What’s wrong?”  I asked.


“My period just arrived.”


 

Comments

  1. Great story, beautifully written and illustrated. You should write a book about your naked adventures. Drama, fun, nudity, cliffhangers, all the ingredients for a Netflix series :-)

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    1. Thank you Marc. Honored by your continued enthusiasm and support. I might be ahead of my time for Netflix - we’ll see.

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  2. Great story, and great illustrations! I am glad you have come back to post more!

    I was wondering if you review nude recreation spots on TripAdvisor, as I do. It can really help people to feel confident in trying social nudity, and getting to feel the joy we feel being naked outside. (You don't have to reveal yourself - just "yes" or "no". And if not, I encourage you to do so.) See, for instance, https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g46800-d6894838-Reviews-Gunnison_Beach-Sandy_Hook_New_Jersey.html
    (I am not compensated by TA - I just have an honest desire to get more people to experience nude recreation.)

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    Replies
    1. I am so glad you are enjoying the stories. It’s great that you post reviews that help others explore the possibilities for their nude experiences. It takes all the spare time I have to do the illustrations for this blog, so I am better focused on this as my venue and I will leave reviews and write-ups in your capable hands.

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  3. Dayumn! You really caught me off guard with that last line. Can't say I have been in the same sitiation (y'know, me being a boy and all that), but I certainly can recall a couple of occasions when I felt really inconvenient the fact that I was being a nudist at those times. But, y'know what? It's the rest of the world that is at fault for not being completely ready for us nudists, not the other way around.

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    1. Your perspective is a good one. In my ideal world, there are no first world problems, no third world problems, and no nude world problems - there are only problems.

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