Sex on the beach
Holidays mean loads of family time, and minimal nookie opportunities. Here’s how to maximise them.
Isn’t it ironic that it takes sex to make a baby and a baby to take sex? If you don’t get my meaning let me be more plain: birds do it, bees do it, parents have a very hard time of it, especially on holiday.

Whoever came up with the concept of ‘family’ hotel rooms (where the kids stay ‘free’ on the sleeper couch) should be sentenced to a lifetime of chastity. What use is a fancy hotel room if you can’t make sweet love on the puffy bed or get all steamy in the roomy shower?

None, none at all. There’s always a shared look of amused despair that passes between my lover and I when we’re packing the toiletries for our well deserved breaks: sunscreen (check), mozzie repellent (check), condoms (ha, ha, ha will we get to use them?)

It’s a tricky question, but it can be answered in the affirmative if we pay close attention to a thing or two.

Thing 1: Location

Our first family holiday with a baby on board was shared in a cramped little room at a cutesy B&B near the seaside. I cunningly dragged the camp cot into the en-suite bathroom and explained to my husband that it would be a good idea to put our wee one to bed in the ablution facilities so we could have the room to ourselves. Clever, eh? Not so much, mostly because of thing 2.

Thing 2:  Decor

It was impossible to ignore the wails of our precious babe reverberating off the bathroom tiles and when we did eventually get him to sleep, we couldn’t do the dirty in a room adorned with a thousand porcelain ‘Chuckie’ dolls. They were watching us.

There’s also the very unsexy fact that I had to make a midnight pee in the garden to avoid waking the baby. My husband still teases me mercilessly about that one. And why did it never occur to us to take l’amour to the en-suite instead of the baby? Fortunately we discovered thing 3.

Thing 3: Cupboard love

A decade later we’ve had some serious vacation sex education. Desperate times called for desperate measures and we were forced to embrace our inner teenagers: in the car, the bushes, the cupboard - and if all else fails, we just throw a blanket over it and focus on thing 4.

Thing 4: Bedtime

As always, timing is everything. When darkness descends, the parental vamps can come out and play. Morning holiday sex is not only improbable, it’s downright impossible, unless you’re lucky enough to have a little one who still naps. And on the subject of timing, foreplay is a luxury afforded only to honeymooners. We have to make it snappy.

Thing 5: Kiss and tell

Now that our children are older, they know what sex is and it embarrasses the hell out of them. I’m hoping we’ll soon be brave enough to tell our offspring to get lost so we can have sex. Seriously, it’s no crime, it’ll get them giggling and if they refuse to disappear we’ll start snogging. They’re guaranteed to yell ‘gross’ and run.

What’s the secret to finding nookie time when you’re a parent?

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