Summer Lovin’: Team STELLAR’s Holiday Romance Diaries

Fallen in love – or, y'know, lust – on your holliers? You're not the only one...

Sandy Danny Grease

In the August 2015 issue of the magazine, we explore whether it’s ever worth bringing your holiday romance back home. Will Luigi look quite so hot in Laois, we’re wondering, or is it better to leave well enough alone? That J1 fella somehow pales into, well, paleness, when you see him in UCD and not San Diego. But it can work out, and even if it doesn’t, it can be an exciting, heady time.

And of course, it got the team talking. Here are some of our holiday romance stories: got one of your own? Add it in a comment!

Rosemary, deputy editor

I’ve had so many holiday romances, I can’t count them. What can I say? I was mad for the lads, er, growing up. One of them, Daithí, was this Irish guy from Dundalk I met in a campsite in France. We went out for about six days – six blissful days, with lots of French kissing and a bit of frottage. Until he told me that he didn’t want to go out with me any more because he fancied my friend, let’s call her Sheila. Sheila was mad sporty and didn’t care about boys, which is just typical, isn’t it? I don’t think I ever quite forgave her, although Daithí turned out to be gay, so I guess I should. Any day now…

Michelle, staff editor

I used to go to guitar lessons as a kid – I didn’t particularly like them or anything, but one thing brought me back every year. Philip was his name, and I had the biggest crush on him. Fast forward a few years, I was 13 and at Irish college, and guess what? He happened to be there too! He was my first proper kiss (at the céilí), and although it was awkward and all that, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way – it was actually pretty perfect, as firsts go.

Kirstie, editor

I met my fella at the Reading Festival in 1998 (which obviously sounds like about 400 years ago because er, IT WAS), during Earl Brutus’ set. We had a notion who the other was because of the NME website but we wouldn’t have necessarily have been each others’ types at the time (because we’d have been music snobs about it) but when we actually met we got on like a house on fire. Things got interesting during the Beastie Boys, and we stayed in touch intermittently over the next few years before deciding, at another music festival, that we’d give the whole long distance thing a go. He moved here from London in 2003 and we never looked back. Holiday(ish) romances rule.