I spent a day at a UK naturist camp where the rule is ‘get naked’ – and I did

“The best way to get to know us is to throw yourself in at the deep end and strip naked.” This nugget of wisdom was imparted to Liverpool Echo community reporter Paul McAuley by a genial fellow named Mike, shortly after their first encounter. McAuley doesn’t typically conduct interviews in the buff, but this approach proved effective during his foray into Liverpool’s Sun and Air naturist camp. Tucked away behind thick hedges in Whiston lies one of the UK’s oldest naturist societies, established on its 10-acre plot since 1993.

The club may have a long history, but it’s anything but stuck in the past, with members embracing their freedom more than ever. Among them is vice-chairman Mike, a 65-year-old from Warrington who has been frequenting the naturist camp for nearly thirty years, his fascination with the lifestyle sparking during a teenage trip to Yugoslavia.

At the Fox’s Bank Lane location, the retired engineer resides in a self-built wooden chalet alongside his wife, Diane. As Diane prepared potatoes for a salad, Mike outlined some of the club’s rules – as much as a clothing-optional society can have “rules”.

“You can be naked anywhere except when you are in the main carpark. There are no exceptions to this,” he stated. “This is because when the gate is open, people passing can see into the club. We also have a three-visit strip rule.

“If you have been and gone three times and haven’t taken off your clothes, you’re likely not a naturist, and we aren’t here for sexual gratification. That’s not what we are about at all.”

However, McAuley pointed out the irony in this. He said: “Mike was chatting with me fully dressed as he listed off the rules and regulations. As anyone would, I quizzed him as to why this was. After all, I had been at the site for over half an hour and had yet to see anyone naked.”

Mike promptly clarified the misunderstanding, bluntly but politely, telling McAuley: “We are naturists. Not idiots. We don’t just get everything out in the freezing cold. It’s more than that.”

McAuley was invited back later in the year to experience the “full experience” when the weather was more favourable. He wrote: “I was happy to stay and soon was tucking into a two-course meal of pie and chips smothered in gravy and a tasty sliver of cheesecake in the clubhouse’s canteen with, of course, naked strangers.

“At this point, I had just removed my T-shirt. But it wasn’t long before I was involved in the jokes and labelled a “cheat”. Rising to the challenge, I unfastened my work trousers and untied my black Converse.

“As I re-entered the hallway through a heavy grey curtain, wearing nothing but a Garmin watch and a silver ring, I was greeted with some roars and cheers. It was an ego boost, if anything. As I sat down, another man, Dan, asked: “What happened there?

“He was referring to the sunken scar on my left leg placed just above a questionable tattoo. At that moment, with a group gazing at a part of my body that’s not typically on show, I knew I had plunged into the ‘deep end’ Mike had referred to earlier in the evening. And what a liberating moment it was.”

McAuley disclosed the origin of the scar – a lasting memento from a severe rugby tackle he suffered years ago. This tale was one of many shared by Dan, a 43-year-old, and McAuley during their conversation that night.

The Mancunian was notably younger than the other regulars; on the other hand, 77-year-old Betty remarked: “We’re all old and established. We have bus passes, let’s just say that.”

Dan, who works in forensics, has been a member of the club for three years. He explained: “My parents are naturists, so I’ve been around it since childhood. To me, it’s just normal, it’s just life.

“It’s such an amazing community here, and once those electric gates shut behind you, reality just switches off. You just escape from the outside world.

“It’s a lifestyle, and it’s about staying true to that, and that’s one of the major misconceptions about us. It’s not for sex. In other countries, none of this matters. Everyone has their tops off, or they go skinny dipping on holiday.

“But here, in the UK, there’s this built-up shame around it. It’s frowned upon because it’s misconceived and misunderstood. Being naked is taught as being wrong, but it’s not.

“There is nothing wrong with it, and that’s why I keep coming back here. I feel horrible when I’m not here because the real world soon kicks in again. It’s a double life you are living.”

Dan proudly owns chalet number three, having invested £1,500 into his little haven. The club also houses 39 other chalets within its premises.

Just a short distance from Dan, Chris and Betty unwind on freshly cut grass by their static caravan. As a couple, they pay approximately £700 annually in fees.

However, for the pair who reside in an old mining village in Wrexham during the work week, it is “money well spent”.

Chris, a 73-year-old retired electrician, stated: “When we come, we never want to leave. It is over an hour’s journey for us, so we make the most of it and stay multiple nights at a time.

“I’ve been a naturist for over 50 years. I stumbled across a beach in North Wales, Morfa Dyffryn, in the early 70s. It was all very hush, hush in those days. Finding the beaches, clubs, and places where other like-minded people would be was difficult. It is nothing like it is today in terms of how open it is.

“Having said that, the community has actually shrunk, though. There were far more people around years ago than there are now. Back then, and even now, people don’t use surnames.

“It was just John and Steve, nothing more than that. It’s a way of protecting yourself. Some people here would be sacked instantly if their employers knew they came here.”

For Graham, a 77-year-old retiree from Blackpool, the threat of losing a job doesn’t hang over him. The former painter and decorator, originally from Dorset, contributes his skills to maintain the site, helping to reduce ground fees for members.

Clad in a cosy grey dressing gown and slippers, he shared with McAuley: “It wasn’t the same for me as it was with Chris and Betty. I was rejected from a lot of other clubs before I got into this one.”

He continued, revealing the challenges he faced due to his status: “When I told others I was a single male, they said there and then they wouldn’t accept me. I’ve always been a naturist at heart. I’ve done it all over the world: Sitges, Gran Canaria, Barcelona.”

Graham expressed his fondness for the Liverpool club, saying, “But this one here in Liverpool is a club I wish I had found when I was much younger. You can come from a normal everyday life into this beautiful family that is filled with carefree people. It’s a magical place with even more magical people.”

He concluded by discussing the reactions of his social circle: “My friends and family know this is where I disappear to most weekends. Not all agree with it, but that is expected. It’s freedom away from the rat race. The moment I leave is the moment I look forward to returning.”

Since becoming a member of the society, Graham’s relationship status has taken a turn. He is now in a relationship with his partner, 69-year-old Raymond from Warrington.

The couple resides in chalet number 38, which is elegantly adorned in a rich blue shade.

This was the only hut McAuley was welcomed into, and it was situated beyond a patch of grass where two other members were buried. Mike remarked: “Some people never leave,” while pointing towards the area.

He informed me about their nicknames and added: “That’s how you know you’re one of us you, you have a nickname”.

Even though he left without a nickname of his own, McAuley felt a warm sense of acceptance within Liverpool’s Sun and Air naturist camp.