Walking along the cliff path, the sun warming my skin, I felt as if I was in paradise. It was February 2010 and together with my husband John, then 60, we were enjoying a four-week holiday in New Zealand. Turning the corner, I spotted a sign just before a beautiful sandy beach. ‘Clothing optional.’
‘A naturist beach!’ I exclaimed.
John smiled. ‘Imagine swimming in that water naked,’ he said.
I felt a shiver of excitement and we both looked at each other with curiosity.
We were in Waiheke, an island just off the coast of Auckland. Thousands of miles from home, I started wondering, what was stopping us? As a keen swimmer, I loved the feel
