To my mind there can be few more charming destinations than Benirras, Ibiza. We discovered this on my fortieth birthday and, thereafter, declared it an ideal place to convalesce from the shock of impending adulthood. At the time our journey involved a needlessly arduous, and occasionally perilous, trek along cliff edge and dirt track. But that was almost three years ago, when I was a mere boy. Now I am older, arguably wiser, but certainly lazier. My knowledge of the mountain-goat route has its rewarding views, but one would be best advised to procure a vehicle of sorts - at the very least, a beast of burden - and take to the road.

Benirras is in the north of the island just to the right of Port de Sant Miquel. I do not recommend the most direct route from this point. What amounts to an entertaining five minutes in a four-wheel drive jeep, can be a dusty, jaw-rattling, and nail-biting ordeal in a Seat Panda. Besides, there’s a more picturesque trip to be had just following the signs from the village of San Miguel. Note that these names may be similar but they are not the same. Like many Spanish territories, also expect variations in spelling and that a port can be some distance from its town. Exploring these countries intuitively, rather than with an unshakable belief in the veracity of maps and signposts, is the way to go. Benirras is not difficult to find and the road only seems long for its many corners and the concentration it takes to avoid the occasional potholes. Once there, parking is ample, there’s a quaint, affordable snack bar at the far end, and two further restaurants, lest bar snacks are not enough.

Yet Benirras is anything but a hive of commercial activity, and I believe the first thing you will want to do is simply to drink in the view. The beach is the perfect size - for finding old friends or discovering your own space. The bay is the perfect bay - turquoise and inviting. And amidst all this perfection, an intriguing column of rock ascends skywards out of the sea. It must be a place where legends are born but so far no one has confided in me exactly what they are. Given time and a few chilled beers, I could happily invent a few. Anyway, according to local divers it runs deep into the ocean and is an ideal place for spotting interesting fish. It is also the favourite haunt of harpoon-toting Spanish folk with menus in mind. They swim out for hours at a time, well equipped with snorkels and wetsuits. If their bloodthirsty mission is slightly at odds with the general mood of the populace - tranquil, mother-Earth-worshipping bohemians and assorted vegans - no one really minds. This is Ibiza after all, where (nearly) anything goes.

Of course, you could be forgiven for thinking I’ve just described heaven - it certainly ranks in my list of favourite destinations - but I would be quite wrong to call Benirras a naturist paradise. Like many locations on Ibiza, tradition and general consent define naturist areas, rather than legislation and boundaries. If you want naturism with a sign, sun-bed, parasol and a cocktail bar within arm’s reach (and why not? you’ve probably earned it!) Benirras will not be heaven to you. There are earthly obstacles to overcome.

Traditionally, nudity is confined to the rocky outcrops and boat sheds to the right of the bay. You need to be sure-footed and agile just to get there and when you do, space can be very restricted. At best you may have to fashion your ‘sun-bed’ from a towel and a pretty uncomfortable rock. And, be warned, crabs do take an interest in dangling extremities. Still, we’re not ones to complain, in fact we’ve often had the place to ourselves and our choice of the best granite ‘sun-loungers’. There again, our visits are in May and June - avoiding the height of the season.

Then there are the hippies. Unkempt appearances can be deceptive. They’re actually a very good-natured, multilingual, multicultural bunch. Nonetheless, you or your party may feel strongly about the blatant smoking of suspicious substances (especially at sundown, when the reality of an Ibizan sunset can be psychedelic enough in itself). But with so many relics and derelicts of a bygone era finding refuge on Ibiza - some blissfully unaware that the sixties have been and gone - the attitude has to be one of live and let live. And they certainly do contribute much to local colour. One comes across them in varying degrees of consciousness and repose, sometimes perfectly coherent, sometimes not so, and sometimes dancing (or even swimming) with odd undulations of head or limb. Quite whether they are communicating with dolphins, worshipping the sun, entering into spiritual communion with Jimi Hendrix, or are simply having a fit, is difficult to tell, but I’ve learned to contain my alarm and to nod knowingly. They usually smile beatifically back.

returning one abruptly to reality. Many hippies are now traders/businessmen in the markets so beloved by tourists, and when a phone rings it’s far less likely to be yours than theirs. Others operate at a simpler level, making and (sometimes) selling shell jewelry for the price of their next meal. We were approached by the local ‘medicine woman’ who appeared more troubled by my wife’s sunburn than my wife was. Producing a potion guaranteed to take out the sting and turn the mildly pink to brown, we mistook her motivation as being entirely charitable. But no, the medicine woman wanted paying - and in Spanish pesetas not cowrie shells!

It is easy to forget in these idyllic retreats that people still have a living to make and that that living can be a hard one. Despite this there remains an implicit trust amongst the beach community that if you leave your belongings unattended, all will be present and correct when you return. Divers and naked swimmers (clearly unhampered by personal effects) routinely demonstrate a faith in human nature that would be remarkable by British standards. Long may their trust go on being rewarded. I, on the other hand, can never quite bring myself to lose sight of either my camera, wallet, or my lucky Poo Bear key fob.

Not everyone at Benirras, however, subscribes to the vagrant lifestyle. If the hippie look is easily acquired by most (for me, two days without shaving and my natural attire appears to suffice) it is also a great equaliser of social rank. We have often found ourselves in the good company of well-heeled and professional people - doctors, musicians, writers and film directors almost as often as we have those interesting souls of ‘no fixed abode’. On top of which, it isn’t unusual to find this corner of the beach being used for a film or modeling shoot, while we’re sunbathing naked on the end of it - such is the quality of the light, the beauty and the comparative privacy of this location.

For those seeking a more conventional naturist experience, of sand, sea and creature comforts, the island offers many alternatives, none of them too far away. Based as we were in Figueretes (only a short walk from the fascinating Ibiza Town) Benirras was thirty to forty minutes drive north. On the other hand, only ten minutes south lay the naturist Mecca of d’es Cavallet.

Famous for being one of the first, d’es Cavallet is also more than half a mile long. It provides (genuine) plastic furniture in abundance, parasols, toilet and shower facilities and two bars (although we judged the far one, at the gay end of the beach, rather overpriced). There is even an enterprising Spaniard walking the length and breadth, in the heat of the noonday sun, selling fresh fruit - door to sun-bed.

Compared to Benirras, the clientele here are quite different. They are, in the main, ‘dressed’ and groomed for naturism rather than . . well, for simply taking their clothes off. Not so many shag-pile armpits to be seen here, folks. In fact, even a full-bodied demonstration of pubic hair seemed something of a rarity. (So much so that Carol later purloined my Bic razor!)

The mood was otherwise restrained though and those with intimate piercings shouldn’t feel out of place either - genital and nipple jewelry seemed quite the latest thing for a number of sophisticated-looking German women (not that I was intent on noticing, honestly).

Yet there was one singularly annoying feature of d’es Cavallet, and one that we have encountered with monotonous regularity. Being both naturists and naturalists (in that we study nature as well as revealing our own) we found it impossible to venture from the beaten track without attracting unwanted male attention. Behind the beach, where no doubt the dunes were often used for an expressly different purpose, we hoped to explore the fringes of the Las Salinas salt flats - an area of environmental importance and a prime site for unusual birds. Sadly, it appears one cannot pursue other perfectly legitimate interests here without projecting erroneous messages of sexual intent. Wherever we parked ourselves it was in the certain knowledge that an ‘audience’ would appear moments later. And our audience comprised any one (or more) of half a dozen prowling males; lonely opportunists waiting for a bird’s eye view, or, indeed, an invitation to participate in whatever sexual frivolity they imagined was our devious purpose. To say the least, photography, for this article and our album, was a little hampered - especially as my ‘model’s’ irritation was making her, understandably, less photogenic by the minute.

But whatever downside there is to d’es Cavallet, I would emphasise that it is still a very fine beach. If we can forgive the misconceptions of the few and the mess the misguided leave amongst its dunes, it remains one of the best. With a gently sloping shore, the water is accessible and shallow. Numerous opportunities exist for meeting the like-minded. Standards of cleanliness along the main beach are high, and usually someone is toiling away, raking the sand or scrubbing the sun-beds.

Of course, we are bound to make comparisons between the north and the south, and yes, we do have a personal preference. After all, locations don’t come much more picturesque than Benirras, nor its population any more harmonious. In this timeless, carefree haven, even a woman on her own can relax naked and in complete confidence. We’ve never encountered a single act of lewdness, loudness, or nuisance here, just people expressing their affections and interests naturally - but with regard for the sensibilities of others. The same is not always true of d’es Cavallet, but it does offer greater opportunities for social nudity, the surroundings are pleasant and you won’t want for many creature comforts.

Well, we sampled something of both these worlds during our stay; in the mornings d’es Cavallet was our first port of call and a good place to start our suntans. From there we would embark upon our day’s excursions to other parts of the island. By late afternoon, however, without fail, we would find ourselves back on Benirras beach, to watch the sun set or to enjoy the company of friends - old and new.

For all its rowdy ‘Club 18-30’ associations, Ibiza is still an oasis of spiritual and physical replenishment to us. I’m sure many H&E readers would agree. Of course, you do have to leave certain preconceptions behind you (and most of your clothes), . .then there’s always that risk of sunburn, . .and maybe there won’t be a medicine woman (or man) on hand just when you need one, . .and no, it’s not quite the destination to name-drop about the office anymore, is it? (Consider the piously raised eyebrows and their dark, unutterable convictions: Good Lord! Our Miss Higginbottom must have turned into a sex-crazed, lager lout!)

But when you’re finally done with the cares and neuroses of this modern world, remember there’s another, not so far away (only two hours from Gatwick), where you choose the pace, and where the sun will most likely shine. It isn’t paradise - it couldn’t possibly be for the price - but it is a very reasonable facsimile.

[Aromatherapy & Therapeutic Massage] [Questions?] [Where Am I?] [Naturist] [Naturism on a Shoestring] [You Can't See Anything From The Road...] [A New Angle on Almeria] [Ibiza - North & South] [And Daughter Makes Three... Again.] [Forward Without Dogma] [Buying A Naturist Home In The Sun] [Living In A Material World] [Freestyle Naturism] [Pornography or Naturism?] [Birds of a Feather] [Fun in Florida & the Everglades] [The Permissive Path] [Galician Adventure] [Rebels Without A Cause] [Asturias]