One of my most
memorable vacations was to Saint Martin (Sint Maarten). This was in the late 80's, and we flew into that dinky place on a DC-10. We had a great time there. We sailed over to Saint Barthelemy (Saint Barts) on a catamaran and went to a nude beach.

It was amazing.
It is absolutely beautiful there and the people treat you like they really appreciate you being there. The whole vacation was just a paradise, except..........
We rode in a cab from Princess Juliana airport to the Great Bay Beach Hotel. The cabbie looked like he was 110 years old and drove like a maniac. I figured he didn't get that old from having car wrecks all the time, so I sat back and just enjoyed the ride. I think I had bruises on my arm where my wife was holding on to me for dear life. The same was true on the way back to the airport. It was only 6 km, but the roads are very narrow, and it was like around every curve there was a swerve to avoid a collision.

The ride seemed like it was a lot friggin longer than 6 km.
When we got on the plane to leave, they started the take-off roll, got going, then aborted take-off in a very urgent and abrupt manner. The DC-10 is a three engined, wide body. The pilot told us the #2 engine (top, center mounted engine) wasn't responding to the throttle. They said they were going to call Tulsa (AA's maintenance base), to see if they couldn't find a quick fix.

If you've ever been to Saint Martin, you know that there's some rather elevated, rugged terrain at the end of the runway.
See pic. So about 45 minutes later, the pilot comes back on and says they
think they've got the problem solved. Needless to say, I'm a pretty concerned motherfucker at this point.

They taxi to the very end of the runway, do a 180 degree pivot, rev up the engines to take-off power and pop the brakes. Off we went, pinned to our seats, and we cleared that terrain by a mile. I don't know when I've ever been more worried about dying than that day. When we get to San Juan, I'm hoping we're ditching this piece of shit and getting a new plane, but noooooo, we have to fly on that crate all the way back to DFW.
When I got home, I asked an aircraft maintenance friend of mine what might have been the problem and he suggested it might have been cross winds not letting air flow into the engine.
It was a very memorable experience, to say the least.