ho fatto rafting

// I went rafting

It just occurred to me that when you read this, you will read "hoe fatto" when it's actually "o fut‑to". Italian sounds better than it looks.

Anyway, Aosta was my adventure sport week. I crammed a balloon ride, a hike and a white water rafting adventure into just under a week, and boy are my muscles stiff and sore now!

The rafting adventure was a lot of fun, not least because I was the only girl, surrounded by a group of 12 Italian men in body clinging wetsuits, plus two muscle‑bound rafting guides and a very cute Albanian driver. A feast for the eyes indeed.

The afternoon started off with a half hour explanation of the various commands. I understood most of it, certainly enough that when one of the guys said "o paura, era troppo serioso" which means "I'm scared, it's all too serious" I laughed and agreed with him.

The boys argued in Italian about who got to ride in the raft with the "ragazza" ‑ the girl ‑ until one of the guides sorted it out by choosing people based on relative weights. The winning team taunted the all boy group. Incidentally, the other group fell out of the raft three times while we didn't lose a single person!

Apparently women are better at rafting because what we lack in strength we make up for in willingness to obey commands (important in the rapids) and a better sense of rhythm and ability at teamwork.

Having mastered the commands of "Avanti! Indietro! Tenersi! and SUL FONDO!" (respectively "forwards", "backwards", "hold on" and "GET DOWN") we spent about 2 hours in the water. It was SO much fun! My arms and sides and legs are still aching 2 days later but it was worth it. We zipped along in the rapids and raced the other boat, laughing at them every time they fell out. We passed a bunch of kids on hydrospeeds (little boogie board things) and the guide remarked that they must be French, because Italian parents would sooner die than send their kids into the rapids on little boards.

After two hours, drifting down the river through mountains, past castles, farmland and stunning scenery, we finally landed and limped our way back to the car.

The rafting lasted longer than it was supposed to, so I ended up missing the last bus home. Luckily the driver (who's name was Spartak) lived in the town I was staying in so he offered to take me home. He dropped me at my hotel and invited me to join him, his brother and the brother's girlfriend for dinner, so I met them later on and I had a really yummy spaghetti and a few drinks before being dropped back to my hotel. I'd also made friends with the girl on the balloon ride, so I congratulated myself at making four friends in four days, and all Italian speakers! Spartak spoke some English but not a great deal, and his brother and the girlfriend spoke no English at all, which forced me to practise my Italian. It was quite fun to hold a conversation in Italian after so many weeks of only talking to waiters and shop assistants.

That was my last day in Aosta, so the next morning it was a painful walk to the train station and a ride back to Torino. I slept on the train (with my handbag tied to me) and dreamt about sailing along white rapids.