Hedonism: people just like us, only naked
One man's trip (purely for research, of course) to clothing-optional resort
Last fall, I noticed that my travel agency was sending a lot of clients to risque resorts. Destinations like Hedonism Resorts in Jamaica -- two SuperClubs properties where the management encourages skinny-dipping, pole dancing, toga parties, big biceps, baby oil, nude volleyball and other general naughtiness.
Having never been to one of “those” resorts, and purely in the pursuit of investigative journalism (please see me regarding the Brooklyn Bridge if you bought that one), I decided to hop on a plane and take a peek for myself.
I would need company, of course, so I asked my girlfriend, at the time, if she would like to go to Jamaica for a week. I may have neglected to mention the name of the resort. Surprisingly, she was still game when she learned we were headed to Hedonism III, in Runaway Bay, where, we were assured, we would find “that famous uninhibited spirit where just about anything goes.”
What could that mean? Thoughts of bacchanalian orgies and throngs of naked women running everywhere did slip into my mind. But wait, did that mean there would be throngs of naked men running around as well? That gave me pause. But like its sister property, Hedonism II in Negril, Hedonism III is run on a “Super-Inclusive” basis, so the food and the booze would be free. And so would the beaches, the fitness center, the saunas and Jacuzzis, the windsurfing, the water-skiing, the snorkeling and scuba diving, the entertainment — and just about everything else you can think of, including the nude volleyball and, yes, the trapeze. Things were looking up! And I guess I could handle a throng of naked men so long as there was a female throng to offset it.
Required to be naked?
We were met at the airport and handed a cool cloth and a Red Stripe beer for the short ride to Runaway Bay. The front desk received us graciously — and let us know we had a wonderful suite on the “Nude Side” of the resort.
Uh oh. Was I required to be naked? They couldn’t make me, could they? Surely, mine isn’t the kind of nudity they wanted running around for all to see. And yet, I’ve always believed, “When in Rome … " But in Jamaica, thank God, it is different. When in Jamaica, it’s do whatever you want.
Whew, crisis averted. There would be no naked, beached-whale, white males from Annapolis on this trip. So, properly clothed, let me give you the inside scoop on a decidedly different week.
While I unpacked our bags, my girlfriend opened the shutters to take a look at the view. Immediately, she erupted in peals of laughter. Our suite overlooked the nude pool, the nude volleyball game and the body-painting station. Suffice to say, the players were not professional volleyball players. This was going to be interesting.
After the initial shock, we got the lay of the land and decided to explore. As I said, there is no pressure to do anything at all. Indeed, there is just one hard and fast rule at Hedonism: If you are going to linger on the Nude Side of the resort, you will have to be, well — nude. You can pass through (no cameras), but if you are going to stay, you’d better bring sunscreen for all those places where the sun does not usually shine.
Dressed guests can hang out on the “Prude Side” of the resort, or in one of the mixed areas where clothing is optional. We decided we would not be lingering on the Nude Side. In fact, most of our time was spent at a clothing-optional pool since it was uncrowded and close to our room. It also afforded us the modesty we wanted and a fantastic swim-up bar.
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