A holiday with Terry & June

About 7 years ago we went to France with our friend Shaun, cause Kev and I constantly talked about Millau in the midi Pyrenees he wanted to come along, plus he had just bought a new cabriolet and wanted to take it for a spin. We decided to book into a gay B&B half way down to break up the journey in Burgundy.

We knew it was a gay B&B and naturist friendly too and the owners were called Terry & Tony, and they said via email that we wouldn't miss their house, the sat nav said we had about 20 miles to go but still an hour away, it was all dirt tracks and we saw no life what's so ever until a little house with a veranda with 2 old people on rocking chairs, it was very deliverance. Finally we saw the gay pride flags.

It had started raining slightly but Terry and Tony were there stark bollock naked holding an umbrella, they greeted us warmly and said they will give us a tour of the garden once the rain had stopped. Their house was actually 3 cottages all joined. And apparently it was used in the french resistance. It was a cosy place. We were showed our rooms, Kev and I had a lovely double and Shaun had a little room in the eves of the roof, so we naturally called him Harry Potter from then on. We went downstairs for drinks while dinner was being cooked, it was typically french, cosy lounge, log burner, drinking red wine with our naked host, I would like to point out that Terry and Tony were both in their 70's. We renamed them Terry and June after the TV program. Dinner was lovely and we retired for the night, Shaun was a little worried in case he got raped in the night, but he was fine.

In the morning after a typical french breakfast of a full English fry up we were taken on a tour of the garden, first was the orchard with plastic fruit in the trees, via the overground swimming pool with real ducks in, pass the nudist beach with action men in various sexual positions to the highlight of Terry and June's garden their Japanese garden which consisted of a Buddha on a paving slab with a Japanese acer in a plant pot.

The sun was out, the roof was down and we said farewell to Terry and June and said we can't wait to visit again. And then Shaun put his foot down to drive to the south of France.

We did go back a couple of years later, and we may even go back again,

The 28 hour car journey & cap d’agde

It must of been about 9 years ago now, but I done one of those Sun Newspaper holiday, cut out the coupons and sent of £48 for a 4 night holiday in Perignan, south of France near the Spanish boarder, we also got a discount on the cross channel ferry, this was to be Kev’s first time in the south of France. The accommodation was a tent, but fully furnished with electric etc, we just had to bring bedding and towels. 

About a week before we were due to go out car had issues, and we knew very well that it would not make the long journey. We didn’t want to cancel so we thought who we knew that could get time of and have a half decent car. 

Our friend Martin left work a few months before hand to look after his elderly parents full time, and he had an early model Toyota Prius. Which was his pride and joy, we sent him a message saying if he fancied a holiday, and we would pay for petrol if he took his car, Martin was well up for it. The accommodation was from a Monday to Friday morning, so Martin came over Sunday lunchtime, we had were taking the night ferry from Dover and aimed to drive through the night. We thought we would leave around 5pm ish and take an easy drive to Dover which was about 3 hours away, we then found out that Martin doesn’t like to drive above 64mph. We got to the ferry just in time, crossing was fine and we were in France about midnight, 

The motorways in France are great, and with a speed limit of 80mph. But no, Martin still drove at 64, Paris was a bit of a nightmare as you do need balls of steel to drive through Paris, but we done it, and slowley headed south, Kev was put on the insurance to give Martin a break, but he was fine and said he still drive for the time being. He did want to go over the Millau Viaduct, which had recently been built in the Midi Pyrenees. The highest in the world, which was great for us, just before you go over the bridge there is an information centre where we park up. Kev and Martin decided to walk up the hill a little bit to get a better view of the bridge, I stayed behind and plonked myself down on a bench looking at the town of Millau, little did I know then, but for the next 5 years this is where we were to spend our holidays. 

anyway, it was about 5pm now, and I said we should stop at a supermarket as the shop on site would probably be closed when we got there, and we didn’t have any food or drink etc. But Martin said he was fine to carry on driving, I know I did repeat this every half hour, at about 7.30 and still a way to go, I phoned the camp site to say we were running late and wouldn’t be there for the 8pm latest arrival time, they were great and said there would be someone there to help us, still no supermarket stop! We got to the the site about 9.30, checked in ok, I needed the loo, so went to find the toilet block, kev and Martin went to see if the onsite pizza place was still open. I went to pee, then promptly got lost, I was not in a good mood, lost, hungry, in pain from being in the car for 28 hours. I did manage to find our tent and had pizza. 

First thing Tuesday morning we went to the supermarket, came back to the tent, had lunch and went through what we wanted to do on the short holiday. Now Martin is an avid nudist, as soon as he gets in his house he strips off, any chance to be nude he is there, Kev will walk around home naked sometimes, and he prefers an all over tan, I was much reserve back then. Anyway, not far away was Cap d’agde. A nudist village, right in the beach, it has hotels, campsites, shops, restaurants, car wash, all naturist, it even had a petrol station at one point, for a nudist it is the number one place to go. And Martin wanted to go. 

So on Wednesday morning we set of to the Cap d’agde, didn’t take us too long to get there, normal person would of done it in about 40 minutes, so 2 hours later we got there, you had to buy a day pass from a little building before you were allowed in the village. I think it was about €8 each, then we were allowed through the gates, saw the first naked people walking, it did seem strange, I mean I been to a nudist beach before but this was like seeing someone naked walking down the high street. We worked the car, I stayed clothed, Kev stripped but had a sarong round his waist, and Martin went completely naked, well almost, he had a cock ring on. The first stop was a cafe, I ordered a double jack Daniels and coke. The others had a coffee, €32 was the bill! WTF!! I think I said yes too quickly wehen Martin ask if we wanted the same again. 

 Not everyone was naked, majority was though, after our drinks we went exploring, it was surreal, a naked supermarket, naked shops, the clothes shops were mainly for the kinky side, and mainly aimed for women, with very erotic clothing. Shops done we headed for the beach. 

Now, when we got to the beach it was empty, we walked a fair bit until I saw a tree log on the ground, so decided to make ourselves home there, I don’t like being in the full sun for that long, before long other people were setting up on the beach. I lady who I thought was selling ice creams came up with her trolley to us, at that point I had euros waiting for an iced lolly, however she wasn’t selling ice creams, only condoms, lube and poppers. We said we were fine and moved along. The next thing I knew the lady in front of us (about 10′ away) started giving her husband a blow job, then within seconds there was a group of men just staring with their dicks in their hands, when she saw them, she shooed them away, we later discovered we were on the swingers beach. Apparently there is a family beach, then couple beach, then swingers beach and right at the end there’s the gay beach. 

Kev and Martin were hungry, so went in search of food, lots of restaurants and clubs on site, however of you are a single male, you are not allowed in, gay or straight, gay couple or not, the majority of the places only allowed “straight” couples. We did find a snack bar which was under cover a small shopping centre. And ordered bagatte and frites. As soon as we sat down it started to rain heavily, Martin was still naked, Kev now had a hoody on, I was fully clothed because it went bloody freezing, but the food was great. I then saw walking toward me, a rather large naked lady, she had one of those see through plastic macs on, with a matching hood. “Fuck me it’s a human condom” it just came out of my mouth, didn’t check with my brain at all, and it was at the excact moment the whole place went quiet. 

Did another wander around, a lot of the shops were sex shops, and we ended up in the first bar we went to when we first went there, it was getting late, Sun was going down and no one was naked anymore, apart from Martin, and he got a quite a few looks because of it. The men were dressed normally, jeans, t-shirt etc etc, but the women dressed very very erotically, mesh/sheer clothing, one had a belt on, yes just a belt, and the whole place just seemed very seedy. In my opinion, the whole place is for swingers, not true nudist, and no way would I take young children there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no prude, far from it, and I happy get naked now, but Cap d’agde is for straight couples only, and I’ve heard this from other people, and even the local people and the police want to shut it down, as when it was first opened it was for everyone, and very child friendly. 

I’m glad I’ve been there, and if I was in the area again, I would go back there to see if my first impressions was right or not. But I can tick it of a bucket list of 100 places to go before you die. 

On a sub note, we left Friday at 9am and got home Saturday at 6am, so much quicker on way home! 

Rant: Why are gay friends the worse friends? 

A couple of weeks back kev agreed to dog sit for a work colleague of his, it’s only down the road but he had to sleep there, so he was back home at 5.30ish every night for a few hours, as with most people a couple of days by yourself is great, you can watch what you want on telly, run round the flat naked, that sort of thing, but for me any more days I get so totally bored out of my mind, and he was dog sitting for 2 weeks.

All friends knew what was happening and I only heard from one gay friend, as normal his texts were how are you etc then it was all about him and the problems and issues he’s got, but it was the same when kev headed of to France a few days before me in March. None of them got in contact, they only do get in contact when they want something or to bitch about their other halfs, I have female friends but sometimes you want male company, I don’t mean that in a sexual way, but to hang out with a mate, but “so called” 5 gay friends didn’t bother to do anything, get in contact, offer to go out etc. 

I work with a terrific bloke once, 100% straight, married with kids, but as he was so confident in his sexuality he had no problems with me, and vice versa, we used to hang out, saw each other naked, play fights, giving hugs even shared a bed occasionally, nothing happened, but you can’t have that with gay friends, so why are straight male friends better? Cause I really don’t know if I will ever get that again, and that makes me sad. 

Next week kev is heading to France before me again, I’m flying out and not sure yet but kev maybe flying back and I’m staying on for a few days by myself, so I’m going to see what happens, I’m the kind of person that will just drop people if they behave the same way over and over again, I don’t give many 2nd chances, 

When I was by myself in France for 4 days last year, our friends over there were bloody brilliant, in fact it’s the complete opposite, was invited out all the time, fed and watered,

I think deep down, women love the gays, they love to be a fag hag, and gay men love women, and every straight person probably think that all gay men are friends, when really, all a gay guy wants is a straight male friend, we maybe gay, but we are still blokes, and sometimes we need to do lad stuff, it’s not all Eurovision and face packs! 

I may have to put an advert out “straight white male needed to be a buddy” I need a bromance! 

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