At this point in my adult life, there's not a lot I wouldn't try if it might help me relax. That's what I tell myself, stepping out onto the sundrenched rooftop of my hotel near Kronplatz, Italy.
There's a nip in the air as mid-October approaches – and there are about to be two more. This, you see, is a textile-free area, which means mandatory nudity. All naked, all the time. Anxious British journalists included.
A Textile-Free Zone
My friends have elected to stay on the fully-clothed floors of the five-star Falkensteiner Hotel Kronplatz, with their luxurious saunas and relaxation rooms. But I'm already so far from my everyday life, I've decided to take things even further.
The third floor of the spa wing (yes, a whole wing) boasts a massive Finnish sauna, with temperatures ranging from 80 to 100C. It's surrounded by a rooftop patio, with lounge chairs facing out onto a breathtaking view of the Dolomites.
Facing the Infinity Pool
But I'm mainly here for the infinity pool. The naked, rooftop infinity pool. I can't imagine anything more decadent, even if it does mean exposing my pasty bum to some rich people.
I'm still wearing my gown as I stride past a group of them, eyes fixed straight ahead. If I can't see their dangly bits, they obviously won't be able to see mine. Which aren't at all dangly, by the way.
Confronting Body Insecurities
As much as this is a new venture for me, the logic behind it is sound. I've had two kids since anyone last saw me naked for the first time. I don't see a lot of people naked. And alone with your post-baby body, it's easy to develop a bit of a complex.
I know I'm objectively doing ok, but I still get this mean little voice in my head, that tells me I should probably stick the whole mess under a cardigan forever. I can hear it as I walk up the stairs to the pool.
Embracing the Moment
'Shut the f*** up!' I tell it, dropping my robe and stepping into the sunlight. For a moment I stand at the top of the steps, imagining my backside silhouetted against the mountains.
I climb into the pool, careful not to disturb anything – or anyone. But it turns out there's no-one else swimming at this time in the morning. I'm alone with the warm water and the mountain views.
I lean back in the hydrotherapy jets, balancing my phone on my chest so I can listen to music as I soak in the beauty around me. I'm never wearing clothes again, I decide. I'm never leaving this pool.
And that, your honour, is how I came to be stark naked in Budgens on Tuesday afternoon...
