I could couch this chapter in a whole bunch of safe-sounding euphemisms, but given the book's title, I'll get straight to the point, shall I? Two words: "women" and "booze".

Whatever else has happened in my life, I can say one thing for sure: I have had a huge amount of fun in my cricket career. Three things have undoubtedly contributed to this: 1) I'm a friendly and outgoing guy who's comfortable in anyone's company; 2) I have the gift of the gab, which I get from my dad, and clearly women love it. My open demeanour often comes across as flirting, but that's just the way I am. I guess you could say I am charming and, as I said, chicks dig it; 3) And this is the double-edged sword - I like to drink, and alcohol has only exacerbated points 1 and 2. It has lubricated some of the best evenings of my life, but it also nearly ended my international career in 2008.

As far as women are concerned, the Proteas' tour to Australia from December 1997 to January 1998 was like going shopping. From the day we set foot there, women were falling into our laps virtually every night. Australian women, I can tell you, are not afraid to speak their minds and make it crystal-clear what they're after. Especially, as we found out, if you're an international sportsman. There's none of this, "Am I reading the signals correctly here?" crap. Nope, the message is hand-delivered to you in capital letters.

Most of the time we didn't have to go and look for girls either. They came hunting, often in packs, and if they liked what they saw, you were in for the ride of your life. Fascinating social behaviour. They should study it ... make a documentary on the Discovery channel. I'd watch it.

It started with the Perth Stripper, as she fondly became known. During one of the tour's warm-up games, a couple of the guys and I weren't playing and, as a result, we were sharing the twelfth-man drinks duties. We saw this pretty girl sitting right in front of the players' viewing area and, as we'd find out a little later, she happened to be a stripper.

As any youngster in a team will tell you, being on twelfth-man duties can be a bit of a schlep. All you want to do is be on the pitch, playing; sitting on the sidelines gets really frustrating. One tends to turn one's attention to attractions in the stadium rather than the sparkling cricket being played out in the middle. And that's how our attention happened to fall upon this fine young Australian lass. The three of us started chatting to her, and eventually we invited her to join us for a drink at our hotel at 8pm. She was very punctual.

We all got together in one of the okes' rooms and we had a bottle of wine. More drinks followed, and things started to loosen up a little ... And then the girl happened to mention that she was a stripper and that, if we wanted, she would strip for us.

Things loosened up a lot more after that. Various items of clothing were removed in an eyebrow-raising kind of way, and one thing invariably led to another. I led the warm-up session, but then left after about 40 minutes. The rest of them stayed behind.

And basically the tour just kicked on from there. It got the ball rolling in a big way. A few nights later, there was a matric dance at the hotel - huge party, girls galore. I spotted one particularly gorgeous girl, obviously dressed to the nines, walking around the hotel lobby. I thought, "Well, hell, it's a matric dance. It's quite a big occasion. I might as well try to get to know her."

So I did. After a drink and a few words, she came upstairs with me to my room and gave a little dance of another kind. She then left and went back to the dance proper.

In the lead-up to the last Test in Adelaide, one of my fellow single lads and I met these two really cool girls in a bar and had a great time with them. We sort of stuck with them for a while, and on the last night of the tour we had something special in mind. These girls were well connected and we said to them, "Listen, you organise as many girlfriends as you can - we're going to have a huge party back at the hotel."

We must have had about 30 girls at the party that night - I told you those two were well connected. So, 30 beautiful girls, a few very enthusiastic South African cricketers (only the single ones, of course), an open bar at the Hilton and the knowledge that we were only leaving the hotel at 5pm the next afternoon. It was one fat party. From mid-evening to the next afternoon, I enjoyed the company of ... let's just say, more than one woman.

These girls were really up for it and, to be honest, I don't know if they knew what was going on or not, but no one seemed to mind. You picked a girl up, took her upstairs to your room, and afterwards both of you would go back downstairs and you'd go and chat to someone else. It was a phenomenal night.

And that was just during the tests.

We also played a triangular ODI series against Australia and New Zealand. It was the first match of the best-of-three final against the Aussies at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. I was made twelfth man again for the finals. I wore number 13, which turned out to be an unlucky number for me on the pitch, but particularly fortuitous off it. We won the first game (lost the series 1-2, though), but any feelings of frustration I might have had because I wasn't playing quickly dissipated when this girl stopped me in the hotel lobby and asked me if I was "Number 13".

She had two friends with her, and apparently they had been waiting for me. To this day, I'm not sure why, but, hey, you tend not to question people's motives when you are presented with such an opportunity. The girls basically invited themselves up to my room. The hotel had pretty big rooms, which was nice - more a suite vibe, with an open-plan design that included a lounge and two single beds. All in all, too much for one man. A quick phone call later and one of my single colleagues was knocking on my door in what I can only describe as an enthusiastic manner.

Two beds, two cricketers and three women. One of them wasn't all that keen, though; she just lay on the bed. Which was fine - there was enough for everyone. The other two girls, however, more than made a go of it. I got the ball rolling, but then I noticed that my mate was feeling a little left out. Now he's lying on the other bed, so, big-hearted chap that I am, I say, "Well, you can't leave my mate all alone there." And fortunately one of them was only too happy to transfer ship.

And that wasn't the only time my teammates and I were double-teamed by a couple of eager young Aussie lasses. During the third test in Sydney on that 1998 tour, a teammate and I spotted two girls sitting next to the players' viewing area. Unbeknown to us, the two of them had a reputation: they were determined to make their way through the cricketing nations of the world, if you know what I mean.

My teammate invited them back to his room - we always seemed to end up in this guy's room, for some reason - though I wasn't there initially. As I was playing the next day, I was planning an early night. Next thing - it could not have been much after 10pm - I get a call from my teammate: "No, Hersch, we've got these two chicks here, but nothing wants to happen." So I said, "Give me the phone. Let me speak to one of them." So I spoke to this chick and said, "Listen, now what's the bladdy story? Everybody is up for it, but no one wants to make the first move? Just hang on, I'm coming down."

Anyway, so I put on my bathrobe, take the lift, go to the room, and there are the lads. And these two hotties. I seemed to be the missing ingredient in the cocktail, and with a few sweetly whispered words, it wasn't long before proceedings got under way.

Without going into too much detail, let's just say that the evening came to a very enjoyable conclusion.

It certainly was one helluva trip. But that's Australian women for you. They were just always up for it. I remember a South African bowler coming back from the first World Cup this country ever played in 1992 and telling me the guys had had an absolute bladdy whale of a time with the Aussie women.

• To the Point: The No-Holds-Barred Autobiography of Herschelle Gibbs is published by Random House Struik publishers.