We've heard a lot about everyone's favorite gigs. Tell us about one of your worst experiences as a DJ.

After two flights from Valencia, I was picked up at Moscow airport late (as is the norm in Russia), by a friend of the promoter Mikhail. As we flew along the motorway at 40mph in his Nissan "Steptoe" I dropped into conversation. "So, we're off to (hotel on itinerary) then?"

"No, the venue's been changed. It's now 3 hours outside Moscow and you'll be staying at the venue. We must now drive into Moscow to meet the van with the other DJs and you'll then drive directly to the site."

So, I landed at 4pm in Moscow and we finally arrived at the site at 9.30pm with Mikhail, me and 7 other DJs from Israel. I can only describe it as a Soviet Centreparks in the forest... except without the big glass dome, staff, restaurants, swimming pools or other world-renowned Centreparks facilities.

We were shown to a wooden hut in which there were 4 bedrooms and a communal bathroom. I counted 8 DJs. I pointed this out to Mikhail and he told me that we would have to tag team into pairs. I could hear him in the bathroom... "Oh good, you've got hot water."

I warmed to him slightly when he said he was off to get a load of food and drink for us.

"Can you bring back some towels, toilet paper, shower gel and mosquito spray, if there is some, please?" I shouted after him. (The mosquitoes were the biggest I've ever seen in all my travels, but I can't blame anyone for that). I sat on my bed with my head in my hands for an hour or so but something finally cheered me up.

"Here's your provisions guys, relax and help yourself," Mikhail called in. If there's anything that's going to actually make me laugh about this whole thing in future it's the sight when I came out of my bedroom Ð the "provisions" that Mikhail had left on the table. A couple of toilet rolls, a case of Tuborg and a fucking tin of Roses.

So it was about 11pm by now and I thought I'd try and sleep my way through this nightmare. Mikhail told me he'd come and knock 20 minutes before my set at 2am. I tried to sleep but it was a little like trying to take 40 winks in the Ministry... or pissing in the wind.

I listened through about 15 DJ sets from 3 different stages, with 3 records playing at any one time. Highlights for me: an insane 140 bpm Hard House version of the Can-Can, a toe-curling Euro-Trance remix of Shania Twain and some frankly horrible Russian pop. All the time I'm needing sleep but aware that the knock could come at any time. The most worrying thing though was the distinct lack of House Music to be heard.

I set my alarm for 1:30. 2am came. Shall I put my ear plugs in? Hmm I won't hear the door. No, I lay in limbo for a couple more hours until I must have passed out. At 6:30 there was a knock on the door. A chipper looking Mikhail was standing in the hallway with a photographer snapping away behind him, obviously hoping to get some candid shots of a buffed ATFC leaving his "chalet" with bags and headphones in hand. "Can you get ready Aydin? It's time for work!" he quipped. "We've moved your set time to 7 to 8."

"Wh%@^$%fu$%$^%@^@&@!!!!!"

"Are you refusing?"

"Yes."

I didn't get much more sleep after that Ð not knowing whether my refusal would prompt him to leave me to find my own way back to Moscow. We'd not been told times of pick-up and everyone had different flight times from different airports.

The only physical scars are the mosquito bites which have swollen to the size of well, Muscovite Mosquitoes. The mental ones will take longer to disappear.