I was about 20 on my second foreign holiday to Majorca. After a bit of sightseeing and driving up and down many mountains we decided to stop the car and go for a walk.

Maybe it was the heat or maybe even the thrill of doing it outside in a remote place, but me and my boyfriend at the time thought it would be a great idea to move off the beaten track and make love on the side of a mountain.

Well after finding a the flattest spot we could in a remote place, we got comfortable and starting making love. But it was probably the worst shag I had ever had: I had a rock in my back which hurt every time I was thrust into, and another one above my head so I was to reluctant to relax and get into things too much or else I would have been brained. R had a rock by his knee which was referred to during the whole thing (uh, uh, oh that bloody rock, uh, uh, oh for fuck's sake).

Somehow we managed to approach orgasm: but our problems weren't over there: because we were just getting over the edge and we heard a German couple walking across the beaten track and froze completely just in case they could see us. That was worse than any rock (oh oh oooooh, Oh ja Helga. Blick auf diesen reizenden berg!)

When they finally muttered away into the distance, we reluctantly adjusted our clothes, got back on the beaten track and got the hell out of there. Never again.