Naked Activities in Europe

see also EZF (the English E-Book)

Pupplinger Au - June 2007 - Munich

...If Man were Meant to be Naked, he would have been Born Naked

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The Saturday dawned with fluffy grey clouds, a cool-ish breeze, and the promise of light showers. Tania and I had decided on a naked hike along the Isar, a river running through and to the south of Munich in Bavaria, Germany, and even though the weather forecast was not ideal, we set off in high spirits. We left the S-Bahn (underground) station at Hoellriegelskreuth, 7 stops south of the main Hauptbahnhof station at about 10:00 in the morning, and followed a steep trail down to the bridge over the river below. We both stripped off as soon as we had reached the path which followed the river bank, and it was a great feeling to simply be naked once more and, flanked by trees on the one side, with the not-so swiftly flowing river on the other, we strode purposely south. Our route followed the river, the sandy trail weaving through the occassional storm-broken tree lying haphazardly prone here and there, where it had fallen.

The weather slowly warmed, as the day wore on, and we passed several places on the river banks where scattered people were quietly bathing naked, as is the custom all over Germany. Of course we met several people walking and cycling along the trail too, this is after all not far from the centre of Munich city and a popular recreational area. One couple of women stopped, and greeting this naked man and woman they unexpectedly met in the forest, in a friendly manner, asked us the usual whether-we-were-cold question. Of course not, we replied, in fact we probably felt warmer than they did. As they left, one of the women then said that naked hiking looked like a very pleasant thing to do.

We stopped at the river side for a rest and a bite to eat, crossing a small rivulet to gain access to a stony river bank. A favourite sport on weekends in Munich is to hire a raft, made of tied together tree trunks, and to travel up the canal which runs parallel to the Isar from Wolfratshausen into the centre of Munich, drinking beer and taking in the ubiquitous local brass band music. Sure enough, here came a raft, crowded with perhaps 30 or 40 people in the large flat wooden centre, with an oarsman at either end. As the raft passed we heard several wolf-whistles directed at us and a shout of "stand up, stand up!" came over the water. I stood up, as the shouts became more excited, and took a photo of Tania waving to the people on the raft. The rafters thought this a marvelous side-line entertainment while they were slowly drifting downriver, and were very friendly. We saw three rafts in all.

Resuming our hike, we continued to follow the river south, dressing to quickly pass through the very busy Alte Muehle (Old Mill) gasthof, and to use the convenient bridge to cross over the river. Now we were walking down a wide open track, running parallel to, but lower than, the canal embankment above us. Predictably we met several couples here, walking and cycling up from the car park ahead. At the car park we dressed briefly again to cross the Durnstein bridge and to bypass the next gasthof, before removing our clothes once more on the other side. A short digression took place as we followed the path on the map only to find that it disappeared mysteriously deep in the woods. We returned to the main trail, and for a while walked along the top of the embankment. Walking along this manmade ridge was particularly pleasant as the sun had come out, from behind the now thinly spread fluffy white cumuli - we had the canal on one side of us and the forest below us on the other. A gentle breeze cooled our naked bodies as we tramped along soaking in the georgous scenery and that special naked hiking feeling. At length we reached the Eisweiher, a lake about one kilometer long by 400 metres wide, and renowned locally for FKK bathing. We stopped here for a short swim, I'm a warm water person so I just paddled, and a sun bath. The other people at the lakeside were the usual informal mix of types: a young dressed couple with a dog, an elderly naked couple, a naked middle-aged man, two naked women, a naked man and a clothed woman, and so on, and us. There was none of that incessant frowning upon the several people who were dressed, which happens these days at more formal nudist camps, and the atmosphere was a very informal and friendly sharing of clothed and naked contexts. After a while we decided to continue our walk, dressing once more to cross a bridge before removing our clothes again, and follow the river on the other bank.

The scenery changed here as we entered the Pupplinger Au area. All along the Isar river are nature reserves for birds and other flora and fauna, but particularly here the terrain seems to hearken back to an earlier time. The tall bare-trunked trees grow straight up out of the long slightly strange grasses. The Isar meanwhile winds it's way through wide and desolate sand banks, with only odd trees and thirsty looking bushes scattered about the higher reaches. We met less people on this stretch, which somehow seemed to suit the sense of this river wending it's way through a quietly desolate scenery. Finally we arrived at the end of our walk, the bridge where the road would take us, with a swift twenty minute walk, to Wolfratshausen and the S-Bahn back to so-called civilisation. Although we were both a little sad to depart - it had been a marvelous walk, tramping naked alongside the Isar river - it was good to have done it, a simple and deep experience of a lifetime. We'll be back.

Let's not forget Steve Gough, Vincent Bethell, and Terri Sue Webb, for their singular battles against ignorance and prejudice in our allegedly enlightened Europe of the 21st century.