Naturists reveal all about their first-ever weekend in a wet and chilly Scotland

IT was the sight of two naked people, glimpsed through the hotel’s front doors, that told us we had, at the very least, arrived at the right address. The reception area at Dunoon’s Glenmorag Hotel was crowded with other naked people, not one of whom betrayed the slightest sign of being self-conscious.

This was more than could be said for me. In a suit, shirt, and sensible shoes, I felt distinctly overdressed for the occasion.

We did at least, however, fare better than the postman who dropped off the hotel’s mail yesterday. It seems he was caught unawares by the sight of some people as naked as the day they were born. When he turned to go, he almost walked into one of the pillars at the front door.

Welcome to the first British Naturism (BN) Scottish Weekend. It began on Friday and continues until this afternoon, and includes bare-obics, board games, ballroom dancing and a Burns Supper.

The taxi driver laughed when he heard where we were going. “It’s a bit too cold for me to join them but good luck to them,” he said.

But here’s the thing. While it is faintly surreal to see a dozen naked people hanging out – quite literally – in a hotel lobby, the sense of surprise really doesn’t last long.

Over the day, I encountered people aged from their late teens and early 20s all the way up to pensioner status. No-one seemed to have any body issues in the slightest.

Chris Applegate, BN’s volunteer co-ordinator, spoke of the sense of “liberation” that occurred in the build-up to 5pm on Friday, when the weekend officially got under way.

“We were all assembled in there and there was a tremendous sense of anticipation. I announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s Friday, it’s five to five...’ We all went to our rooms and got ready and came back down here again. At the stroke of five, we took our last clothes off. The sense of liberation was remarkable; it was just like coming home.”

Events were all rather sedate. Friday night featured a karaoke and a disco, and yesterday there was the bare-obics class, an optional boat trip to Tighnabruaich and a photography Q&A workshop.

In the corner of a ballroom, a handful of guys crowded around an American Civil War game, complete with ranks of tiny soldiers.

Later, as Applegate led a bingo session then a quiz, a couple of musicians – Peter and Jackie Benson – played a selection of songs, including Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, to a small but appreciative audience.

All naked, of course, save for the hotel staff.

And no-one batted an eyelid. By 2pm, what had initially seemed outlandish seemed perfectly normal. The ones wearing clothes – like me – were the ones who stood out.

IN the bar area, people sat around in sociable little g roups, chatting about this and that, having taken the courtesy of spreading towels on their chairs. They discussed their holidays, their families, the weather. Gentle music played in t he background – including, slightly disconcertingly at one point, Andy Stewart’s comic song, Donald Where’s Your Troosers?

Apart from the absence of clothes,