After arriving in Spain on a late-night flight for a family holiday two weeks ago, I stood on our apartment balcony gazing across the dark lawns of the complex and listening to waves crashing on the beach. I couldn't wait for morning to appreciate the view.And, when dawn broke, my, what a view it was.
Carry On star Barbara Windsor
For the morning sun not only illuminated a manicured lawn framed by a delightful stretch of Mediterranean coastline. It also fell upon the expansive embonpoint of a topless blonde sitting by the pool, cheerfully grilling her naked chest in the Hispanic heat.
Since the woman was the sole sunbather that morning, I presumed she would cover up when my four children - three of them boys - appeared for a swim. After all, this wasn't a sprawling resort, where topless tanning can be rendered more discreet by the bustle of poolside activity, but a small block of privately owned apartments, most of which were empty. However, when we all went down to the pool after breakfast, our presence was barely registered by the woman, as she continued to glaze her oven-ready breasts with coconut oil.
'I am increasingly irritated by the unpleasant vista of oiled-up torsos when I'm trying to relax.'
Topless sunbathing is a routine hazard for those who holiday among the fleshpots of the Mediterranean. Men may appreciate the view. But as a woman, I am increasingly irritated by the unpleasant vista of oiled-up torsos when I'm trying to relax.
I hate being made to feel like a captive Peeping Tom, forced to watch passing beach-side Lotharios make appreciative leers at an endless line of bare bosoms. Now, I am no prude, but I loathe the way women randomly expose themselves in front of children, without any thought for propriety and decorum.
Settling onto my sun lounger that first morning, I wondered how on earth I would distract my three sons from the fact that a near-naked woman was sitting just a few feet away. Thankfully, my nine-year-old was preoccupied with test driving his inflatable dolphin in the pool.
My 12-year-old, at the confused crossroads of adolescence, simply dived in and began swimming with unseemly haste. It was left to my 14-year-old to reassure me - albeit with an embarrassed look - that he had a really good book to read.
I turned to my husband, hoping he might offer some moral guidance as their father. Clearly not, since he simply peered over his newspaper at our seminude neighbour, looked startled and then returned to his crossword, looking as though he'd just been accosted by a street-walker.
What gets me is that these are women who, in contrast to their behaviour abroad, would howl "sexual harassment" if a man so much as glanced at their cleavage in the office. It astounds me that women can confidently whip off their bikini tops with such blatant disregard for how they look, or who will see them - whether they want to or not.
The woman at our pool at least had a firm bust. But as the days went by I spent hours at the beach sandwiched between women whose enormous exposed bosoms should have carried a health warning. And cruel irony, why is it always the largest ladies with the biggest breasts who choose to put them on display?
On one busy stretch of sand, I ended up being pitched next to a hefty sun-worshipper in her late 50s whose horn-rimmed glasses, sensible haircut and foil-wrapped sandwiches were hardly suggestive of Bardot-esque allure. But this didn't stop the unleashing of two weighty breasts from her hammock-sized bikini top.
When she lay back, they gaped apart like spreading forest fires. To further stoke my revulsion, she had put two curls of sun cream which sat on her nipples like the topping from a walnut whip.What makes women - particularly British ones - abandon all modesty and sunbathe this way?After all, such wanton exhibitionism is not a cultural habit in this country.
You have only to go into the changing rooms of any High Street store, where shoppers retreat sharply behind the curtains of individual cubicles, to know what a self-conscious nation we are.Yet women who won't even try on an M&S cardie in front of alien eyes happily shed their inhibitions as soon as they hit a foreign beach.
Detractors may dismiss me as a prude: though having endured the ritual humiliation of communal showers in my formative years at school, I can assure you there is very little I haven't seen. But topless sunbathing affects everyone.
Parents, for example, who have yet to discuss sexual issues with their children, may not want their youngsters' first biology lesson to be delivered by an Essex shop girl who thinks a Mediterranean-beach can transform her into the next Pamela Anderson. Why confine centrefolds to the top shelf when children of any age can get an uncensored view while building their sandcastles?
Morality aside, massive sunburned boobs do not a romantic vista make. Surely it's more captivating to leave something to the imagination rather than stripping off for a nearly all-over tan? So ladies, I implore you, when taking a holiday, please keep your treasure chest locked away.
Sadly, I doubt that many women are likely to heed my call. Which is why, next year, I intend to rent a private villa for our summer break. That way I can guarantee that the only thing which will have its top off is the bottle of sun cream.
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