In the last few weeks there have been inquiries on the message boards regarding whether people might be too old or too young to be comfortable at Hedonism II. The general answer is that visitors may have fun at ages 20 through 60. WRONG. Persons in their 70's can also enjoy Hedonism II. This is a report of my six and one-half days, five nights, at Hedonism II during the last week of June, and the first two days of July. I am 70 and alone, a widower. A planned vacation with a companion didn't occur. I was able to get a last minute reservation at Hedonism. Why Hedonism II? Because I can't think of another place where I can meet people, mostly couples, and just converse. I can't converse with strangers in big cities; I would be considered eccentric, a nut. But at a nudist or clothing optional resort, especially at Hedonism, I can. My trip started in Los Angeles. To all "west coasters," fly Jamaica Air from Los Angeles. The plane leaves between 10:00 and 11:00 p.m. It arrives in Montego Bay between 6:00 and 7:00 a.m. Arriving at that time allows an extra day of fun; leave your luggage at the lobby; take your valuables. This time I drove from Northern California to L. A., leaving my car with friends, but it is also convenient and probably more inexpensive to fly to L.A. via Southwest Airlines, which I did last year, especially if one qualifies as a senior, Also, the A-320 is a comfortable plane and the cabin attendants' service is good. Even at 70, I think I am fairly fit. I snorkeled each day. The people at the dive shack know me; I was once described as their best customer. And the boat crew will remember me: I was the only one on the boat, all six days, who refused to wear swim clothing--no swim suit. No one said anything to me about that, but I wonder what they said when I left. Some people told me I looked younger than my age--I think so too but others may just be being kind to me. Mornings are the most beautiful time at Hedonism. I was at the jetty at the nude beach every morning, getting coffee at the nude grill, and conversing with a couple on the chaise lounges next to me--about anything and nothing, except we got to know something about each other. I spent part of each day in the nude beach pool, next to the bar, touching the sides of my hips with the sides of the hips of pretty ladies, occasionally putting my arms around their shoulder. I danced with a pretty blonde who liked to bounce and twirl in the pool water, sort of water aerobics. One day I played "nude volleyball," but I was awful; it has been too many years. A few times I conversed with single ladies, but they quickly found someone more attractive than a "grandpa." At dinner I sat at a table for eight and sooner or later found compatible people to talk to. But after dinner, after the show, then it got rough being a single. Trying to dance by myself in the disco was just exercise, though at the pajama party I more or less kept moving for an hour. But visiting the nude hot tub or nude pool was frustrating; because I didn't have a companion and an "odd man" really doesn't fit in. But there was still a lot of fun to be had. At body painting I was sitting on a picnic bench watching the activity. Then the world's greatest entertainment coordinator led me into the group. Her name is Shaka. She is beautiful, strong, energetic, friendly, outgoing and--I could keep finding adjectives forever. She first painted a bra on me. At my age, despite my imagined fitness, I can use one. She then painted below the waist. Before the group was done painting we, including me, were finger painting each other. The Shaka led us into the ocean, poured liquid soap into our hands, and we were each to wash off another person. A beautiful young lady washed my chest, I washed her chest, and her husband (they were newly wed) watched and washed someone else. Not really sensual, like applying sun screen to another person's back, but it felt nice. I also was a "ringer" in the "find your mate" game, again touching. I wasn't chosen by any of the ladies, but it was also fun. On toga night I danced in the toga parade, my hands on the naked hips of the woman in front of me. Again not sensual, but nice. I "competed" in the "most revealing toga" contest. I revealed everything, but what the lady next to me revealed was much more attractive. I know, I ordered a photo of the event, which was mailed to me, and I would have voted for her too. At the pajama party I came wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt. They wouldn't admit me, but I argued that a T-shirt was my pajama at home on a cold night. The gate keeper, again a pretty girl, told me "then take off your pants" I did, was admitted, and I danced by myself for a while, as I said. I left the next day. Much easier than last time because I was able to get my boarding pass at Hedonism. When I reached the airport I was able to bypass all lines and go right into the departure area. My overall impression from the point of view of a single old man. First, I made a fool of myself throughout most of the visit. One young lady, when we were leaving, described me as "crazy." But better to be an "old fool" rather than just being "old." Second, will I go back? Yes, if a companion who loves or likes me will go with me. A vacation anywhere with a compatible companion is better than being alone, even at Hedonism II. But if no one wants to go with me on vacation, I will surely return as long as I am able to remain active. There is nowhere else I know of where I can meet so many friendly people, even if their friendliness has limits. Third, advice for other elderly singles, don't be shy, talk first, if rejected, even for conversation (I was), go elsewhere, don't be crude, obnoxious, or overly sensitive, and even an old single can have fun. I hope I am still welcome there. NORM