Ibiza Workers: 7 DJs tell us how they spent their summers before they were famous

Employment History: Driver for Miss Moneypenny's / Remembering the Summer of: 2003

I did four seasons in Ibiza, but it was the first three in the trenches of San Antonio that were the craziest. It was a day-by-day existence, with huge ups, big downs – sleep and money were rare luxuries. Two euros for dinner, five lads in one bedroom, ten people at once in a Ford Ka – seriously, it happened!

Labour in San Antonio was plentiful, but jobs on the right side of legal were scarce. I used my skills to climb the ranks of Miss Moneypenny's from poster boy to driver, although I was skilled at neither. Postering is a simple profession, although I still managed to cover the streets of San Antonio in June with posters that read July.

As a driver I was equally weak. Once, when I was supposed to be driving to the airport to collect Lee Cabrera, I realised that I was not in a moving car, nor even on dry land. I was actually swimming off Bora Bora beach, nearer to the buoys than my car. I eventually picked up Mr. Cabrera, nearly two hours late, with wet shorts and no top. A season in Ibiza is four months of stories, most you can't print, and some you can't repeat.

Employment History: Unofficial Poster Boy for Manumission / Remembering the Summer of: 2004

Before heading out to Ibiza, I saved for a year, doing twelve hour shifts at an engineering job. Then I pretended I'd hurt my shoulder and left on medical grounds! I spent the following year blagging my way around Ibiza, eating nothing but Bombay Badboy Pot Noodles and drinking Dan'Up yogurt, before eventually making it up onto the next rung of the ladder, which meant Haribo for desert.

The girl I was seeing at the time was turning 21, so I needed to do something special. I ended up blagging Steve Lawler, Clive Henry and Jamie Jones to play at this pool party we'd arranged on the outskirts of San Antonio. The day was amazing; there were about 250 people there, all dressed like idiots – the DJs included. Richy Ahmed was there, before he started wearing expensive fourth-hand vintage shirts. Clive brought loads of mates with him, including Alex Arnout, whose wig was a tenth of the size it is nowadays! Back then, LSD was a big part of my summer; it was pretty much the only thing on the menu that day, along with loads of Haribo. The party went on from 11am until 11pm, then the police arrived. They were actually pretty sound; came in, had a drink, then left!