#RaftingThroughtheRocks

Filled with dread, realisation hit me that we had booked to go white water rafting. Visions of plummeting out of a glorified rubber ring, while crashing over sharp rocks filled my imagination as we set off to a nearby gorge.

I had texted Sonja just an hour before asking if her bus would arrive in time to make it. Ten minutes before we got picked up she texts to say she was in!
We filled out the form ticking the box stating that we agree not to sue in the event of injury or death. Comforting.

They geared us up with life jackets and helmets and we headed off to the river. Once the raft was in the water we all jumped in. I was at the front with Sonja and we discussed whether this was a good or bad decision. Then it was time for the boat naming, our Yorkshire guide suggested Team Steph, but I misheard him and thought it was called Steamy Steph. We all agreed that this was a better name as Steamy Steph the inflatable vessel took off towards the rocky falls.

We practised a few basic skills that we would need to know to navigate us down the rapids and then we were off.
As my brain furiously calculated

how our giant raft would fit through the pathway half its size and lined with huge boulders it dawned on me that I was more likely to die doing this than any of the sea related sports I had done previously.

The first rapid had us tumbling down the steep slope throwing Steamy Steph the human out into the gorge. “Steamy!!” We all called. The top of her head bobbed up with her helmet in sight as she glided gently further down the river. We caught up to her and dragged her back on board as well as another guy that had also taken a tumble.

We ventured on, crashing and falling through the rapids, screaming as we fell each time. The biggest rapid had Sonja and I practically laying on top of each other as we crashed down in a panic. At one point the guide told us we could get out and swim as it was calm. Everyone stayed put but as he kept banging on about how boring we were Sonja and I decided to get in for a paddle.

I regretted it immediately as my butt hit a sharp rock and I was pulled down the river by the strong current. I managed to get back to the raft and held on like a sloth with just one leg clinging on and my arms desperately hugging the sides. The guide laughed at me and waited to see me try and fail to get myself up and into the raft.

The course continued much in the same way. We hit sharp rocks,

screamed, clung on for dear life and then were splashed in the face. Once we reached the lake at the bottom we enjoyed a soft sail towards the edge. Before we got there though our guide pointed out some wildlife to us. An owl in a tree and then some green ants. He told us that you could eat them. “Why would you want to?” You may ask! Well I’ll tell you why. For all you citrus fruit fans, the green bum of the ant actually tastes like limes.
“Who wants to lick one of their butts?” Everyone looked disgusted. What feral being would do such a thing?!
A minute later, he held the ant out, I was butt to face with it and gave it a tiny lick.
“Mmm, limy!”
Despite my 5 Star Trip Adviser worthy review no one else opted into licking the butt.