Think about it. You’ve got a village full of randy teenagers suddenly set free from the parental nests, banjaxed to the eyeballs every night, snogging and shagging their way through the equivalent of six months worth of freshers’ weeks. Add to this toxic mixture a healthy dollop of your serial mountain worker on their 15th season, carrying every STD under the sun and up for poking anything with a hole that breathes, alongside a network of sex pest instructors, chefs and waiters. Voilà! You have a whole new dimension of lurgy. A Petri dish of filth. Only a fool comes on a season without a bumper pack of condoms and a full course of antibiotics.
