Where were you in November 2006?

If you weren’t on this board, I hope you enjoy this. If you were, have a totally on-topic re-post from ‘Beautiful but Bonkers’.



When I first set eyes on her she had a pair of underpants on her head, a pencil stuck in each nostril, she was wearing a tee-shirt saying ‘You don’t have to be mad to be me, but it helps’ and she was saying “Wibble”. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that she was as cracked as Humpty-Dumpty after a five storey dive onto a crazy-paved patio. She even showed me her passport, which had her occupation down as ‘Das Fruiten-Loop’.

OK, so maybe none of the above was true in the strict meaning of the word, but Ursula WAS German, and pretty damn gorgeous. I hadn’t actually taken much notice of her at first, but my mate Joe had. This was when I was working on the beaches in Nice, and I’d met Joe at the hostel we were staying at – not an official Youth Hostel, but a ‘Relais pour les jeunes’ or something. So Joe had noticed Ursula and had invited her along to an impromptu party on the beach that night. This was just a few of us international guys passing round bottles of very cheap red wine one way and home-made cigarettes with a certain Moroccan flavouring the other.

Anyway, we were all lying on the pebbly beach in a circle, facing the centre. Joe had positioned himself next to Ursula and I was on the other side of her. Now what I didn’t realise was that she was besotted with ME!! I have to admit that I was at the peak of my attractiveness at that time, age 21, lean and tanned from bumming around with a backpack for months. Ursula was lovely – almost white blonde hair cut in a bob, amazing clear brown eyes – very unusual – fair of face, spectacular body…18 years old.

The first inkling I had that she fancied me was when (with Joe’s arm draped across her back) she turned towards me and asked me if I could speak any German. So, being the wily young fox that I was, I leaned in a bit and said huskily: “Ich leibe dich”. Well, rarely can a declaration of love have been so rapidly rewarded! She said to me “I love your voice, it reminds me of an English DJ that is on the radio in Germany, you sound just like him” then she leaned even closer and proceeded to give me a snog that rated 6.1 on the Richter scale. Poor old Joe didn’t stand a chance.

Bear in mind, we were in the middle of a circle of people, chatting, smoking and drinking around us and yet we were also alone in that special place that couples go when they are concentrating on each other to the exclusion of all else. Then she reached down inside my jeans. My months on the road had lost me a couple of inches around the waist, and I was also going commando – less washing – so it wasn’t hard for her to locate ‘little Che’ who was actually not so very little at that moment. It was all I could do to un-glue her from my mouth, re-do-up my button fly and drag her to a more secluded spot.

We went a couple of hundred feet along the beach until I could restrain her no more. We sank down in the area of shade with our feet towards the twenty foot over-hang from the promenade. She pushed me down on my back, ripped open my jeans then managed to pull her own trousers and undies down to her knees. She climbed onto my waist and with no more ado, impaled herself enthusiastically, rapidly and repeatedly on Little Che. At this point, I hadn’t had a shag in months but patrolling the topless beach on a daily basis meant that my bollocks were as big and firm as a pair of ripe passion-fruit. It wasn’t long before they disgorged their seed and Ursula disengaged and climbed off.

Now I’ve had some decent sex in my time, but that was the one and only time I got a spontaneous round of applause and a cheer at the end. During our impromptu performance, a group of on-lookers had gathered on the promenade above us were polite enough to wait until the end of Act I, Scene I, before showing their appreciation in the time honoured way. We were too modest to take a bow but grinned shyly and sloped off into the shadows and made our way back to the hostel.

What then followed was a night of passion to file away in the memory for those times in years to come when I might need to cheer myself up. I hope and pray that each and every one of you has (or has had) a night like that. As I said, I was staying in a hostel and, as a favoured long-timer, who was also working, I was sleeping for free on the floor of one of the big dormitories in my sleeping bag, as was Joe. Ursula, as part of a school group was upstairs in a small room with her classmates. We went ‘back to mine’ and as soon as the lights went out we commenced on Act I, Scene II. We only stopped when the sun was coming up and it was getting light again. At times like that you count…and the full play was in three Acts, with at least two Scenes per Act, in a full dormitory with about twenty people in it, I don’t think poor old Joe got much sleep either that night, though I suspect he had to hang his sleeping bag up to dry in the morning.

Now if only she’d been leaving the next day, things might have been different – one night of passion and then gone. But no, next day, there was a big fuss; her teacher had been alerted to the fact that she had not been in her room all night, she was effectively put out of circulation and then she started crying. Each time I saw her, she was surrounded by disapproving looking German girls and boys and teachers, she would burst into tears and start really quite embarrassing stuff like calling to me and pleading.

I honestly can’t remember how long this went on, but we were kept apart and yet so near for what seemed like ages. On their final night, we managed to get five minutes to talk and she wrote me a message in my little address book, which I still have, and have since had translated. It reads (capital B used for the double s thing):

“Ich glaube daB Du Dein Leben total genicBt. Ich finde das super. Fur mich ist das auch der beste Weg mein Lebern zu genieBen. Ich liebe verruchte Menshchen, so we Dich Das ist wondervoll Ich glaube das reicht. Okay, Ursula”

["I think you completely enjoy living your life. I think that's great. For me, that's also the best way for me to enjoy my life. I love crazy people like you. That's wonderful. I think that's enough. Okay, Ursula"]

The story doesn’t end there though. I went to stay with her and her family later in the year. If you want to know what happened, see the ‘best of’ page for ‘Debt Pron’ (sorry, can’t do linky things).
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 14:58, 3 replies)

Quite a good story....
but I just read you Debt Pron, and it was fantastic. Too late for a click for that, so I'll make up for it here.

Cheers mate.
(TheColonel, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 10:37, closed)

Para 1
You had me at the first paragraph! Enjoy this special click I made just for you!
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 20:53, closed)

Both great
and worth a read (and a click)

Second installment is here btw
( chart cat has an itch, Sat 25 Apr 2009, 5:34, closed)