How We Just Missed Spending The Night In A Spanish Jail

My best night-time experience was many years ago (at the height of the Franco regime) in the north of Spain. We and our sister-in-law were staying in an old house a few miles from a magnificent wild beach and decided to take the children to the beach campsite for the night to celebrate my little nephew’s 5th birthday. Around 11pm our sister-in-law suggested that she would keep an eye on the children while we went for a walk along the beach. It was a lovely moonlit, starry night (no street lights). The beach was totally wild and deserted and the waves looked exciting. After we’d walked for about a mile, with no-one about, we couldn’t resist, ******** off and ran into the water for a truly wonderful, sexy swim. (I have always loved swimming with my balls floating free in the water but it isn’t always easy to do in Scotland!) The waves made the cool Atlantic water feel effervescent and we emerged exhilarated. We had no towels and dressed hurriedly over our wet bodies, finishing just as two of the dreaded Guardia Civil came into view, patrolling the beach with their serious- looking rifles. At that time in Franco’s Spain the authorities took a very dim view of any moral laxity – nude bathing was totally illegal - and we realised that we could easily have ended up in the local jail. But we got away with it and the memory of that wonderful swim is still fresh 40 years on.
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26-30
Sep 5, 2011