On a holiday trip to Tofino, British Columbia, in the late '70s, with my two children (who were quite young at that time), we picked out Chesterman Beach for a pleasant hike and climb along the beach and over the rocks. When we got back to the main beach area, it became obvious that we had chosen a clothing-optional beach to hike along. A mixed group had moved in and were playing nude frisbee. My son (6 or so) said of one person, "Is that a man or a woman?" My daughter (a couple of years older, and very superior) said, "Of course it's a man, silly! Don't you see his beard?"
We settled down in a spot reasonably distant from the group, had our lunch (and I resolutely refrained from getting out my binoculars...).
As we were leaving, on the trail back to the road, we met a very Italian family, complete with Granny in black, Father in suit jacket, kids in their Sunday best, and wicker picnic basket, like something out of a European movie. I've always regretted not sticking around to observe the culture shock.