There’s an old saying: don’t judge a book by its cover. I was reminded of it within minutes of arriving at Béziers airport, on my way to Cap d’Agde and the world’s largest naturist village.
As I boarded the bus to Agde, where I planned to pick up a taxi to the village, I got chatting to a slightly bemused-looking, middle-aged Asian couple. He was wearing straight-leg jeans and a blue T-shirt that looked as if it had been purchased from Cotton Traders. She wore a knee-length, dark-blue kaftan over straight-leg black trousers. They seemed confused about the bus destination and whether it would take them all the way to their final stop, so I stepped in to help, given that the French bus driver’s English was limited and she was struggling to assist them.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Jardin de Babylon,” they replied.
I tried to hide my surprise, although I’m certain my raised eyebrows gave me away.
Jardin de Babylon is the main destination for hardcore swingers in the village: home to notorious parties where anything and everything goes. The last time I’d entered the venue, more than ten years earlier, I’d been with a couple of friends who were staying there. I recall standing on their balcony, watching the Caligula-inspired orgy taking place around the pool: couples fucking and sucking each other off on the double-bed-sized sun loungers wherever I looked.
This respectable-looking pair of travellers looked like the sort of couple you might sit beside at a perfectly middle-class dinner, discussing property prices, until they casually mentioned that their idea of a night out sometimes involved swapping partners with another couple.
“Babylon? In the Village?” I said, doing my best to sound unfazed. “I’m going to the Village. We can share a taxi from Agde.”
In the cab, I discovered they were from Delhi and that this was the first stop on what sounded like a European sex tour, with Amsterdam next on the itinerary. Talk about not reading the room.
“They have big parties at Babylon, right?” they said as we drove. “We’re really looking forward to this.”
A few days later, I spotted them walking along the promenade and barely recognised them. She was wearing a flowing, sheer black dress, with a black-and-gold bra clearly visible beneath it. She looked exotic and beautiful. I wondered whether their friends back home had any idea what their holiday plans involved.
Arriving at the village, I made my way to the entrance to collect my pass, which allows visitors into the walled town. During peak season, the Village is home to around 40,000 naturists, swingers, or people who combine the two. Many, like me, stay at the popular René Oltra campsite, now celebrating its seventieth anniversary. Others stay in the hotels, apartments and private rooms rented out between May and October, when the site is fully open.
For €11.50 a day, visitors can buy a day pass, provided they’re willing to take off their clothes and wander around in the nude. Discounted rates apply to those who have booked accommodation.
This was my seventh visit, and I now have friends who return every year. So, when the opportunity arose to stay with a couple in their motorhome on the campsite, I decided to take it: five days in a place where I would spend most of my time without any clothes on. Just me, my backpack and passport were all I needed.
