While I unpacked our bags, my girlfriend opened the shutters to take a look at the view. When in Jamaica, it’s do whatever you want. And yet, I’ve always believed, “When in Rome … ' But in Jamaica, thank God, it is different. Was I required to be naked? They couldn’t make me, could they? Surely, mine isn’t the kind of nudity they wanted running around for all to see. The front desk received us graciously - and let us know we had a wonderful suite on the “Nude Side” of the resort. We were met at the airport and handed a cool cloth and a Red Stripe beer for the short ride to Runaway Bay. Things were looking up! And I guess I could handle a throng of naked men so long as there was a female throng to offset it. And so would the beaches, the fitness center, the saunas and Jacuzzis, the windsurfing, the water-skiing, the snorkeling and scuba diving, the entertainment - and just about everything else you can think of, including the nude volleyball and, yes, the trapeze. But like its sister property, Hedonism II in Negril, Hedonism III is run on a “Super-Inclusive” basis, so the food and the booze would be free. But wait, did that mean there would be throngs of naked men running around as well? That gave me pause. What could that mean? Thoughts of bacchanalian orgies and throngs of naked women running everywhere did slip into my mind. Surprisingly, she was still game when she learned we were headed to Hedonism III, in Runaway Bay, where, we were assured, we would find “that famous uninhibited spirit where just about anything goes.” I may have neglected to mention the name of the resort. I would need company, of course, so I asked my girlfriend, at the time, if she would like to go to Jamaica for a week.

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