The narrator (Guy Kingsley Pointer) welcomes us to this tale of life in the sunny climes of Cornwall, where there is a place you can holiday in rather less formal conditions than is traditional. First, however, let him welcome us to five young ladies who wish to escape their drab lives now that summer is here. First, three friends, Pamela, Petrina and Jackie, all of whom work near to each other in a dull office job, shop or a nightclub and are relishing the chance to get away from it all for their vacation. Then, Bridget and Angela who work at a petrol station and are heading in the same direction...
But they have different ideas of what constitutes a holiday than our other three friends, because they will be visiting the beauty spots while in the buff. No, don't be shocked, for this was a serious examination of what happens to your average nudist, or naturist as they like to be called, telling you everything you needed to know about how to join them with the utmost gravity and sincerity and - oh, who were they kidding? The name behind the camera should have told you everything you needed to know: George Harrison Marks, that advocate of screen nudity here making his mark in in the nudie-cutie genre.
There were quite a few of these made, mostly in the United States and Europe, as a way to get around censorship laws on the unclothed actress of the day by presenting their efforts in the documentary format. These works were so innocuous that few would be offended, and as they went out of their way not be present the scenes in a remotely sexual manner the censors couldn't in all conscience claim they were an especially corrupting influence. That's not to say the powers that be were unaware of what these filmmakers were up to, which was basically slipping the nakedness in by somewhat underhand means.
And all by displaying them blatantly, yet in this case punters hoping for a glimpse of female flesh would have quite a long wait, for Marks recognised he could not dive straight into the spectacle without first attending to the preliminaries. Which in this case was a shedload of travelogue footage of the girls making their way down to Cornwall, stopping off on the way at Stonehenge where the narrator blathers the most obvious guff about the site as the models pose and giggle around the monument. With the passage of time these sequences, which back then must have seemed interminable, now have a camp value and can raise a few laughs, some of them even intentional thanks to stooge Stuart Samuels' gooning.
Bridget and Angela are described as "confirmed nudists", which has you wondering about all those uncomfirmed nudists who may be wandering the nation's beauty spots, but rest assured, if your patience has not run out by the forty minute mark then at last the trio of girls meet up with the confirmed nudists and are persuaded to get their kit off, led by famed model Pamela Green, Marks' wife. There follows a lot of frolicking on the beach with a beach ball, and also a keen deployment of towels so we don't see too much below the waist before they end up at an actual colony and some cheery families to underline the wholesome nature of the movie, and the experience it depicts, although the sight of the elderly, bearded gent who greets the girls on entry to the establishment would be enough to put anyone off. Marks went on to make the most successful British sex comedy of all time in Come Play with Me, but this was marginally better because at least there were no godawful musical numbers. As if that's saying much.