The handicapped owner of 'Naked City' nudist camp, who...
We were born naked, but no one shows you the way back. What now?
A stark forecourt stretches out imposingly ahead. Is there somewhere to change, I ask the guard on the gate, as a group of baseball-capped lads stride blithely through. He nods at a set of lockers.
But hauling down my kecks right here at the entrance feels wrong. Only one thing for it: The entry procedure is a bit unforgiving, but beyond is something unique: But every facet of ordinary city naked is here, too: Throughout, fully dressed staff a formality that apparently developed of its own accord cater, with surreal nonchalance, to the great unclothed. Nothing on this scale exists city else in the world.