Visit to Abbey House Gardens

I had a very enjoyable afternoon getting naked in someone else's garden last weekend. Here's a trip report.

Readers in the UK may be familiar with Abbey House Gardens in Malmesbury, Wiltshire. It's a quite a well-known ornamental garden, er, what's that ghastly word, attraction, that happens also to have several clothing-optional days each year. The owners are themselves naturists, who some time ago they thought to start an experiment, thinking that it would be interesting to see how naturists and clothed visitors might interact. These is somewhat different from when a naturist club takes over a regular venue for a designated period. On such occasions the only visitors are those who know about it in advance. Alton Towers, for example. has annual downtime on its rides though their leisure pool remains open, and so there's a BN-organised visit to the site that weekend. At AHG, however, they take the perhaps bold view that there's no need to close the site to everyone, merely to place enough notices at the entrance and on the website to "warn" the clothed constituency.

So how does it go? Quite well, as it happens. The existence of these days is pretty well-known in the naturist scene, so I've been planning to go along for at least a couple of years. Usually, there's been some sort of excuse not to go, apart from laziness, like poor weather or a family do. Last weekend was bright and warm (hot even), and D was wrapped up in OU work, so off I went. We'd visited the gardens once before after a WOMAD festival, so even if the place was going to be full of weirdos, I knew it wasn't going to be dreadful afternoon.

Having driven along a very warm M4, I park at the town pay and display (very full), and yomp up the steps to the old town and Abbey. What's this? Through the not-very-opaque fence/screen on the garden boundary, one can just see naked men and women ... Past the special signs, pause at the ticket hut to pay (I was expecting a "you do know it's nudie day" spiel but no comment was offered), and I go in. It all looks normal; lots of formal hedges, topiary and sculpture, with interesting planting distributed artfully, all looking in excellent order.  The first visitors I see, in the first of the garden areas, is a family sat around a table looking a bit glum as if their favourite team's just been relegated. Perhaps they all take mood cues from their two teenagers, who look especially non-plussed. And on then through a leafy arch into the bit where the tea shop is, and here we are in a swirl of nudity! About 30 people milling around in the buff. There are some people wearing clothes, but not many. Perhaps the Glums were not impressed, and had retreated to consider their options.

Changing, or rather unclothing, is done in what is usually the (covered) restaurant section off from the tea garden. Carrier bags containing visitor's clothes are spread around, each numbered with a ticket. Ian himself sits numbering bags. I got number 389 (don't know if they started with 001). It reminds me of the kit area at a road race, there are that many bags. The teashop, with a least three staff, is working furiously to keep up with demand. Clearly, there's no problem with visitor numbers!

Having de-clothed, I have a more extensive look around. The main gardens have various areas, and the two lawns are both full of people, walking around (there is so much planting and sculpture to see and admire), or lying or sitting on towels, some having picnic lunches. There must be more than 150 visitors just by a quick count, probably more. Amongst them are perhaps a dozen people wearing any clothes at all, several of whom are with their naturist partners. It seems an ideal environment for the "mixed" couple or family. As you might expect, there is a bit of a male bias, but there are plenty of couples and groups, and even a couple of families with young children.

The atmosphere is very convivial and chatty, more like a garden party than a standard open garden, certainly at the upper level of the site, where the formal aspects are more developed. Behind the Abbey house, the ground falls down to river (Avon?) level, by means of a series of labyrinthine zig-zag paths and steps. This is the area that's vaguely glimpsed from the nearby footpaths. There are many things to see down here, both living and man-made, and the feel is not so formal, more loose and free.

Eventually I reach the river level.  There's a natural theme to the garden here, with the river being crossed by a footbridge, a little hut/pagoda on an island, and some water features. The planting is also beautiful (and labelled by species).

Again, there are chatty visitors walking around alone or in small groups, a couple of families with younger children, and a score of people lying on the lawn. Clothing is very unusual to see. It's hard to find a free spot, but I do find a space to sit, where I draw some of the grounds, especially the art, but also the people.

Drawing is a nice way to get talking to people, being fairly unintrusive, and people like to be drawn or to talk about their own supposed lack of skill. "I wish I could draw, but I really can't".  I have to dispute this, in the nicest possible way: "There's no big secret to it (though there are some tricks). Just draw what you see, hundreds of times, and be prepared to do it better next time".

Some discussion ensues about the suitability of the river for swimming. Certainly the hundreds of tiny fish seem to like it. It looks shallow, clear, and not too fast, so in I go. The bottom is soft and squishy with alluvium but once I'm in properly it's extremely nice. I do a couple of lengths (not knowing where it goes after the footbridge!) turn around and hop out. No messing about with cossies or towels, just jump in and out, and let the sun do the drying.

That's the essence of naturism for me: no fuss, no membership card, no elaborate rituals. It's simple enjoyment of the elements, the body and its senses, and friendly company.