More beautiful than Vatican City or the Eiffel Tower is the beach in Nice, France that stretches for miles along the French Riviera. Nice’s signature attraction is the Promenade des Anglais, a bustling walkway running along the Mediterranean, but it wasn’t the promenade that caught my eye; it was the exposed skin that came as the “biggest” surprise and proved that Nice is a little naughty.
We were walking down the steps to the beach and I was at the second last step. My husband said, “Wow! There’s Brad Pitt,” knowing that I’m a huge fan. I whipped my head around to see the one star that would make me forget my own name only to be shocked and appalled by a sight that will haunt me for many years to come.
There was an old, wrinkly man in at least his 60s, possibly his 70s, standing a few steps above me. I mention his exact position so you can visualize where my eye would meet on his body since I was a few steps below him. He was quite easily over 400 pounds, and he was the epitome of French culture with his hair arms, legs, stomach, and ears. He had hair everywhere except on his head, which I found rather ironic. His other unique French cultural trait was his lack of clothing. He was wearing a skin tight – no – that doesn’t do it justice – he was wearing a “bone” tight, red thong bikini that didn’t leave anything to the imagination. As my head turned and I caught sight of his general area, I cringed and let out a disgusted sigh of pain. No man, regardless of his shape, age, or size should wear something so tight and repulsive; yet he was old, fat, sweaty, and hairy. My eyes burned and I quickly lowered them in fear of literally going blind. I was too in shock to immediately move, which led to yet another life-altering moment. He continued down the steps and past me, his sweaty arm brushing against my chest as he walked by. I had never felt more dirty or utterly repulsed in my life. His sweat stained my skin and left a mark of shame. My husband and I had a long standing history of cruel and unusual jokes on each other, but at that moment, I had succumb to his mastery in cruelty. My defeat, however, didn’t last for long!
Walking along the beach, I saw a mixture of topless and covered women. Although full nudity is prohibited, it was not unusual to see topless women in all directions. I had mixed feelings about the topless situation. First off, there are no restrictions for which women can be topless. Women of all ages and sizes were free as boobs; I mean birds. Normally, I would be mad at my husband for looking at other women, especially topless, but I found it hard not to look myself. As I past the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, I wanted to be certain my husband didn’t get a good glimpse of her. Why should I be subjected to visual misery when he was able to look at perfection?
I quickened my pace and blocked his view of the lady, but he was on to me so I shamefully admitted to my plan. “There’s an obvious super-model on my right wearing only a string bottom and I didn’t think it was fair that you got to look at her after what you did to me.” I sighed and rolled my eyes to drive the point home.
He couldn’t help himself; after all, he is a man. He had to look. He had to see for himself if I was telling the truth. BUT… he should have known me better and he get exactly what he deserved.
This beautiful lady was also in her over-the-hill years and she too was easily over 300 pounds. I’m not the best judge of weight, but saying she was over 300 pounds was giving her credit! She hunched over on her towel, which I figure was the only possible way for her to sit. Her free boobs sagged below her stomach and rested on the other side of her legs. At first, I couldn’t tell if she was fully naked as her stomach rolls covered her private area. Then, it was as if God was laughing at my husband with me because she shifted her weight to lay on her stomach. She leaned forward and her right boob, along with her three rolls of stomach fat, flopped to the other side completely revealing her lower section. Oh the freedom of unshaven, French ladies! Her bikini bottom was revealed along with her unshaved, or never shaved, bikini line. Hair protruded from every direction around the bikini bottom and my husband actually began to gag. He had never seen such a disgusting sight, yet he found it hard to look away. It was like when someone says they farted and you just have to take a whiff for yourself.
Men may normally enjoy watching attractive women show their boobs. They find it sensual and arousing, but there was nothing sensual or arousing about what we witnessed that day.
The freedom of being so comfortable with your body and your surroundings to just let it all hang out must be liberating. I may someday feel the wind against my chest as I brave the world topless, but as I get older it isn’t just my vacations that are going south so the outlook on letting it all hang out is bleak. For now, I’ll keep getting the use of both pieces of my bikini and experience the other natural surroundings around me.