While all of this was going on, I was in Austria, where deciding not to adorn oneself in garments does not lead to potential arrest and prosecution.

I had been warned that the sauna in the hotel spa might indeed involve nudity, but in my convent-educated head, I just didn't believe that people would cast aside their swimming costumes in such an enclosed and refined environment. So with a measure of confidence and an element of trepidation, I bravely wandered into the sauna area. There I was greeted by the sight of a middle aged, overweight man sitting down, legs akimbo, in his birthday suit.

I quickly took action and looked in the other direction only to see two more men hopping into the jacuzzi, again having discarded their swimming attire along the way. By now, my face was crimson, and rather than running out of the place, I hurriedly began to read a sign on the wall.

The sign had detailed instructions on how to use the sauna. "Rule One: Take off your clothes." There was no room for manoeuvre on that one, it was an immoveable; to get the best from the heated Finnish room, one had to be naked.

Having spoken to some people about this, I came to understand that for people living in countries where nudity is acceptable, having a sauna while wearing a swimming costume is just silly and unhygienic. And when you think about it, it makes sense.

However, for me, it's just a bridge too far. Even though I spent some time trying to convince myself that being naked would be liberating and a bigger deal in my head than in any one else's, I still couldn't do it and remained clothed.

Once I had dealt with the shock of seeing people walking around butt naked and having decided that I couldn't countenance joining them, I headed for a civilised boat trip on the lake. But even here I wasn't safe. It was a scorcher of a day and in every little inlet where there was space to sunbathe, there were naked people.

People on their own, couples and families, all out on a sunny Sunday and all nude as newborns.

Thinking about this afterwards, I realised that my perception of naturists was mistaken. To my mind, these people were those who sought out nudist beaches or special colonies to join their freaky cohorts for a nudie game of tennis or croquet. The reality is that being naked is no big deal. In fact, is it not more odd to insist that we wear strange little costumes for swimming, when it would be handier all round to have no clothes on at all?

What really concerns me is my reaction to the uninhibited Austrians. It demonstrates just how cloistered and prudish we are - I say "we", because I am pretty sure that I would not be the only Irish person to react in the way I did. Ireland is after all, the only European country where nudity is illegal where there is no intent to offend.

Another commentator last week suggested that for all of our wealth and new-found sophistication, perhaps we are just not ready to show ourselves off in our naked glory on the beach. Five thousand members of the Irish Naturist Association are more than ready, though, and they hire out venues where they can get naked without fear of prosecution.

So is it time for us to grow up on this front? It is shocking for us to see people without clothes on because we are not used to it. But what is wrong with it? Towards the end of my enlightening Austrian weekend, I became used to the sight of naked people cooling off in the jacuzzi and I am sure that if it became the norm here, we would adjust accordingly.

Even if that does happen, though, I think I'll still be getting changed under my towel.

Claire Byrne is co-presenter of the Breakfast Show on Newstalk 106 with Ger Gilroy