Despite my upbringing, I’m a city girl. There’s something so convenient and exciting about living in the hustle and bustle. If you want to hop on a bus, go dance til 5am and have a greasy burger at 6am you can. If you want to go to the cinema mid day, then go ride on a ferris wheel while eating gelato, you can. The world is your oyster, and I like that freedom. That’s not to say I don’t miss and appreciate being out in the middle of nowhere. I had been putting in quite a bit of hours at work and needed a little vacation. Luckily my equally free spirited friend Hannah (who you may remember from my previous post My dormitory sex show) was in Melbourne and willing to take the risk of an American behind the wheel.
We left Melbourne with only 3 conditions: Returning the Rental Car by Thursday, paying extra cash for damage insurance and not using GPS. We could only use an old fashioned road map because we are smart and didnt want to rely on technology. As I made a left turn, in a 5 speed manual, driving on the wrong side of the road on the wrong side of the car, I made a sign of the cross and we hit the open road. 30 seconds into driving I scraped the side mirror against a wall. Then everything in the city was so confusing that we immediately had to use GPS breaking rule #1.
After chuckin’ a Yuey into the servo for some arvo sangas to shut our guts up (what?? IDK.) We approached the Great Ocean Road. Where were we stopping? We didn’t know, but a truck with 2 surf boards sticking out of the back happened to be in front of us so we followed them because surely they knew. That’s when we approached a beach, and appropriately for us, it was a nude beach. We nervously began a stroll on the beach, but then decided that it would be unaustralian to wear clothes on a nude beach. We had to respect the local traditions so it was off with the clothes.
Is there anything more free than dashing along the emerald waters, giggling with your breasts flapping in the wind with sand on your butt-cheeks? The answer is no. There isn’t.
I jumped in the cold shark infested waters and when I came out, I felt like I was baptised by the sea. We had a lay down, perved on the hot naked surfer and let the sun bake our bodies. If we gained anything from our time in Australia, we were surely leaving the country looking like leather handbags.
Being a frequent nurse to the geriatric population, I wasn’t in anyway shocked by the naked old man strolling past us, but I was soon shocked by his actions. As Hannah and I decided to move along, we noticed him sitting on a rock, looking at us and playing with himself. Then he took it up a notch and started swinging his old penis around in a helicopter motion. We figured he would be excited by us reacting so we didn’t pay him any mind and left the nude beach. I always ignorantly thought that nudists were kinda weirdos, but yeah I get it. Being naked is natural. It feels awesome. You know what’s not awesome? Seeing an old man play with himself. Life is full of ups and downs, isnt it?