More on Hollywood: What are these people doing? I am just watching North By Northwest, with Cary Grant, and if you have seen it, you have not forgotten Eva Marie Saint. A more gorgeous woman and talented actress you'd have to search hard for. And yet she was woefully underused by Hollywood. Same thing with an actress like Phoebe Cates. Stunning girl, really good actress, hardly been used. (Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Paradise (nude), and Princess Caraboo are some fortunate exceptions.) Also, I used to enjoy the TV show Step By Step (I like sitcoms), not the least because of the wonderful girls in it. There were at least three really beautiful and talented girls in that show, and do we ever see them in movies? I sure don't. Hollywood have these elaborate auditions all the time, why don't they call some of these girls? I am sure if they have hardly worked in films before, they can get them for a reasonable price.

Letter of the week, from HM:

Dear DOMAI,

I was fortunate that my mother had a fashion for Arabian thoroughbreds (the four-legged kind). This meant for me I had to exercise them daily, an obligation I fulfilled with joy. Next to the more serious training sessions, my favorite rides were the ones trough the dunes surrounding the stables. This was a beautiful stretch of nature with lengthy sand-paths where you rarely encountered another human being. The differentiated landscape, varying from dense pine-forests to surreal, desert like sand dunes, promised a magnificent trip every single time. But the real treat for both the horses and myself was the usually deserted beach behind this nature-reserve.

This particular beach was rather far from civilization if you had to walk on foot. Sunbathers, surfers and other beach guests usually went no further than the stretch of beach next to the boulevard. This was perfectly fine with me, because this allowed me to loosen the reins, allowing the horses to go full speed. Contrary to most horses these thoroughbreds are quite anxious to 'go' and they don't need any encouragement to give it all they've got. One has usually more work restraining them. Those fast gallops along the surf were an absolute highlight for both horse and rider. The warm blooded horses enjoyed burning some energy, and for me the wind through my hair, the splashes of seawater in my face, and the sensation of the incredible speed those wonder horses could reach were an absolute thrill.

If I took the shortest route I could reach the sea in half an hour or so in a gentle pace. Usually I allowed the horse to gallop up the last and highest dune that separated the beach from the land behind, thus making it easier to climb the long sandy slope. On top of the dune I always stopped to enjoy the magnificent sea-view, meanwhile allowing the horse a short rest before we descended to the beach.

On one fine warm day the daily ride went somewhat different. I was about 15 at the time, it was the aftermath of those wonderful 60's, and due to the warm weather I secretly skipped the sometimes rather tedious exercises in the manege, and headed for the beach right away. I rode my favorite horse that day, a beautiful and intelligent white mare with a gentle, curious, yet nervous character. The last dune always was a promising marker for both of us, because we could already smell the sea on the other side and we both knew what would happen next. But as I said, that day was different.

When we stood at the top of the dune I checked the beach for the occasional jogger, often accompanied by unleashed dogs that always seem to have the urge to chase horses. I saw no joggers, but I immediately noticed three tiny figures at the beach below. As I adjusted my eyes to the brighter light I established they were three females. Two slim, longhaired blondes, and a slightly taller woman with an elegant straw hat on her head. The rest of the beach was deserted and I noticed no dogs that could possibly endanger a firm gallop, so I started to descend.

As I came closer I noticed something strange. I could make out the bright colors of their towels and bags, but not the usually equally bright bathing suits or bikinis. Were they wearing skin-colored bathing suits perhaps? At 15, the other option didn't even come to mind, being to far-fetched to be real.

At the stage when my eyes finally convinced my brain they were not wearing bathing suits at all, my heart skipped a beat or two. Here were two beautiful nude girls chasing each other playfully on the beach, right before my very eyes. Could this be true? At that age I had never seen anything remotely like this ever before. The scene baffled me. The older woman, still quite beautiful as well, was lying on a towel.

Meanwhile I couldn't keep my eyes of the two ravishing young beauties. I established they were about my age, or not much older, and they were remarkably similar and equally gorgeous. When I came closer I determined they had to be twins. I still couldn't believe my eyes. The girls I knew till then were quite different, and mostly rather prudish. But not these girls. I didn't know what I admired more, their obvious and self-explanatory freedom or their astonishing physical beauty. They were so confident about their nudity it amazed me. It was like they didn't even realize they were completely naked! Their firm, slender bodies were tanned all over, though a slight variations told me they at least wore a bikini at some occasions.

When they spotted me they both turned towards me, thus granting me the most incredible view. Two of the loveliest girls you could imagine with long, sun-bleached hair, beautiful tanned bodies, small, firm, upward breasts and long slender limbs. They pointed at me as they simultaneously exclaimed towards their mother 'look mam, see what a beautiful horse!' I couldn't hear the soft-spoken answer of the woman, but when the girls both turned towards her, I noticed their backs were not a bit less perfect. After all the small wonders I had seen in the past few minutes, the view of two identical cute little butts almost made me loose my mind.

The next moment they rushed towards me. The horse nervously jumped back at first, then curiously reached forwards with its head, to examine what this cheerful excitement was all about. The girls stopped at a few feet distance and asked if it was okay to come closer. Practically lost for words I uttered 'yeah, sure' not able to compose a fairly eloquent answer. They said hello and asked if they could pet the horse. I assured them the animal was a bit nervous, but friendly. 'She's so beautiful' they said at the same time, and giggled about their simultaneous remark. 'That happens a lot with us' said one of them. 'We are twins' complimented the other girl. 'I thought as much, you sure can tell' I replied, while it took the opportunity to verify their similarity up close. They had the most delicate faces, with bright blue eyes, thin eyebrows and long, distinctively darker eyelashes. A small stretch of lovely little summer-freckles ran across their fine noses to their cheeks.

They wanted to know everything there was to know about the horse, which clearly was their main object of attention. The feelings seemed to be mutual; the horse clearly enjoyed al this kind attention.

I felt it would be impolite to remain in my high position, so I dismounted and pulled the reins over the horses' head, thus giving it more freedom of movement.

When I stood next to the girls I noticed they smelled like sea, sun, and a subtle tanning lotion. I still regard this fresh summer scent as the most incredible and lively perfume. Far more delicate and vivacious as any master-perfumer could compose.

As they went on talking and petting the horse, their mother joined us. I quickly noticed the girls had their beauty from no stranger. She was very elegant and well mannered, equally beautiful, and appearing to be only a few years older, though she had to be in her early thirties. 'Ah, you must be the same age as my girls' she said, 'no wonder you get along so well'. 'I hope they are not holding you up, but when they start talking they never stop, and they're just crazy about horses'. I replied truthfully they weren't holding me up in any way. I didn't add I was probably having the best time in my life yet. 'The girls want to take up riding lessons' she continued, 'I hear your family has stables here, do they teach as well?'. I had to deny, much to my regret, but I quickly added they were welcome to visit the stables.

At this time one of the girls stepped right in front of me, looked me straight into the eyes and asked very friendly if she and her sister could take a ride on my horse. How could I refuse, even if I had wanted to? So of course I agreed. I explained to them I had to hold the reins and lead the horse, due to the temperament of this horse, but that didn't spoil their fun in the slightest way. 'Is it safe?' the woman asked slightly concerned. I assured her it was safe when I lead the horse and emphasized I would only walk with them, since I could hardly run along next to the horse anyway. Letting an inexperienced rider take the reins on a thoroughbred at an empty beach would be an entirely different story though, and far too dangerous.

I used to ride in a rather informal outfit on these trips. I didn't use a saddle, but just an 'Indian style' blanket, held in place by a single girth. I didn't need the extra support of a saddle and stirrups, and the horse had less weight to carry this way. It also meant I didn't need to wear warm boots and chaps or riding breeches. I usually only wore a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, and rode barefoot. I admit it sometimes made me feel somewhat like an Indian, riding his horse across the plains. Well, dunes, but who cares?

This meant however I had to assist the girls to get on the horse. The customary and most elegant way to do this was to bend my legs a bit, and fold my hands as a 'stirrup'. This way they could step on my knee first, put the other foot into my hands and climb on the horses' back while I lifted my hands to make it easier. The sweet, fresh smell of their skin made me slightly dizzy when they came close to me to get on the horse. They seemed to weigh next to nothing while I lifted their tiny feet in my hands, and in no time they were both seated on the horses' back. They chose to ride together, as they did most things together. And since they weighed very little this was no trouble for the horse. I had explained the girl riding in front could hold the manes, and the girl in the back had to hold on to her sister, like riding on a motorbike.

The mother decided to stay behind, so I took the reins and started to walk. The lively conversation of the girls gave me the opportunity to look up at the symmetrical two-fold magnificence riding my horse, without being impertinent. I still could hardly believe this was actually happening, yet it was as real as it could be.

I could have walked and talked like this forever, but the horse finally got fed up with the slow pace and became restless. The girls weren't comfortable anymore on the now 'dancing' horse, so I turned back. The mare was obviously bored with hanging around and didn't leave me at peace for another minute, she pushed me with her nose, stamped her feet and kept on turning around. Clearly she needed a good run. So, reluctantly I said goodbye to these three amazing ladies and jumped on the horse in an agile way that just had to impress them. I looked back and waved one more time as I took off.

Taking off is a fairly accurate description, as I loosened the reins the horse spurted away. The wind in my face and even the occasional splash of seawater couldn't clear my mind, and all the way back I was pleasantly distracted and still confused by what had happened. I could hardly catch my sleep that night, as the wonderful images were tumbling through my mind. Images I will never forget.

Of course I didn't have a camera, and even if I had one I could hardly have used it, now could I? That would have ruined the wonderful atmosphere. But I can picture everything today as clearly as I did at that moment. Amazing, but so was everything that afternoon.

Now I realize these ladies were those wonderful free and unconventional spirits you meet once in a while if you are lucky. Not unaware by any means, but carefree and unaffected by bourgeois morality and hypocrisy. Wonderful, intelligent, wholesome people, celebrating life to the fullest.

I have noticed some people find this story hard to believe, especially since it concerns twins, and therefor the subject of many fantasies. Well, life is sometimes better, stranger and more wonderful as any fantasy. And this was the flower power period after all. It was a real experience, and even in an eventful life it still stands out for me.

HM

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