I’d read that Guvano Beach, an infamous nude beach near the village of Corniglia in Cinque Terre, Italy, would be difficult to reach, so I was surprised by how conspicuously it was labeled – even if said label was a poorly-done graffiti – on the way down to the sea from the town center.
Within just a few minutes of finishing my lunch, in fact, I had arrived at the entrance to the passageway all the resources I’d consulted said would take me to the beach, an abandoned railway tunnel with a fresco depicting nude sunbathers above it. That’s it? I laughed cockily.
And then the last rays of light disappeared behind me.
I did my best to ignore my fears that the tunnel might not end, or that dangerous creatures lurked within it, and to keep my balance in the pitch blackness. I fiddled with my phone, trying to remember how to use the camera’s flash as a light, but ended up admitting defeat.
Part of me was relived when I saw a bright light rapidly approaching behind me, but the other part was terrified – the odds of the person carrying the light being someone unwholesome seemed rather high, given that I was again en-route to a shady beach through an even shadier tunnel.
Thankfully, the owner of the flashlight, a graying man who barely spoke English, seemed intent only on making sure both of us made it out of the tunnel alive. He wasn’t particularly my type – and to be sure, after having a fat-filled panini, I definitely wasn’t going to be picking anybody up at Guvano Beach – but I couldn’t help but think he knew where da honeyz were, so I followed him.
Sure enough, the first sight I saw, after climbing over jagged rocks for about 10 minutes, was a pair of chiseled, bronzed bodies, each with its own set of impressive-looking genitals. I was initially excited, maybe a bit turned on, but the closer I got to the couple, the more apprehensive I became.
Spending time with the happy couple reminded me how much I really want a long-term partner of my own, and served as (heartwarming) evidence that doing so is not only possible, but can have incredibly beautiful results.
The challenge, as it’s always been, is to have faith in finding a relationship that truly works, rather than settling for the next thing that comes along, even if my fear – that I will wander the world alone until I’m old and reduced to perving on young guys at the beach – is a very real one.
Robert Schrader is a travel writer and photographer who’s been roaming the world independently since 2005, writing for publications such as “CNNGo” and “Shanghaiist” along the way. His blog, Leave Your Daily Hell, provides a mix of travel advice, destination guides and personal essays covering the more esoteric aspects of life as a traveler.
