Romantic? Not really. Spontaneous, enjoyable, natural, magnificent, grand, novelty and invigorating are words I might use to describe outdoor sex. But there's not much romantic about picking gorse prickles out of your butt, skin peeling off bits that have not seen the sun for years or nursing mosquito bites to the nethers.
Oh, you mean during? Well, yeah. I admit I have been known to be overcome by nature's grandeur on occasion. *cough* But the thing about outdoor people is they usually choose the places where being overcome won't lead to discomfort or death. *grin* Which is a little antipathic to romance. Remember Romeo? Zorro? Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans? Romance equals danger and death. At least when it comes to outdoor sex.
But yeah, I'd give it a go.. *smirk*
In other news, thanks for your advice yesterday. Plans are afoot and last night I returned the old machine, so no more dealing with skin-crawly guy and now I'm forced to stop prevaricating and get off my ass and buy one. I wonder if I'll come out in a rash from spending all that money?