The day dawned bright and sweet, with Rosie and I looking like we´d been put in a blender. Why oh why had we thought Mojitos were a good idea. I shall never know. The windiest of bus journeys followed, admittedly through the stunning landscapes of the sacred valley. Our first activity consisted of a momentous 3000m downhill bike ride in the rain, rather refreshing considering we were both on the verge of bundering everywhere. We got to know our team pretty well, 6 of the funniest Israeli´s we´ve ever met, a top dollar American and hands down the most vulgar Russian we´ve ever met. For our multiple readers in Russia, don´t take offense, I´m sure the rest of you are great. This kid tended to complain a lot about the lack of tea and 5 star service, shrieking when Rosie repeatedly kicked her shin "accidentally" under the table in risking having a fork plunged into her skull. Anyhow, when the afternoon´s activity was upon us, Rosie and I were concerned to note that we were the only ones partaking. "I´d rather live" remarked one of the more obnoxious members of the group, while others patted us on the back with phrases such as "see you in the next life." That´s right, we were going white water rafting down the turbulent rapids of the Sacred Valley. Just so we´re all clear, Rosie hates water and was convinced she was drowned as a witch in a past life. Talk about dramatic. So inevitably, there was a lack of enthusiasm on the river bed, when we were presented with a small dingy with holes in, and limited safety equipment. Noting her palid complexion and trembling hands, the guide suggested Rosie sit beside him, for comforts sake. Yes, everyone, I was freaking out. Talk about the river frothing at the rocks and death staring me in the face. Octavia literally had to carry me into the boat. The guide told us we had to sit on the edges for a more éxciting´experience. Furthermore some Frenchy ´rafting expert´tells me very seriously that three people died last week on the waters of doom. I lost total faith  that day and nearly concussed Octavia with my paddle for making me do it. I will admit though it was a great laugh. More than that, I almost peed, especially after the first grade 4 rapid during which I turned to see Rosie half out the boat, legs in the air, held to the guide by a mere whisp of hair. Trying to save your own life whilst in hysterics is no easy feat. The time came when we were at a more calm station of water, we got out of the boat to have    drift down the rapids and were told to swim to shore, I made it successfully. Occy on the other hand, lifejacket over face, continued to drift down the rapids, unable to make it to post 1. The guide unleashes the rescue rope and expresses some form of alarm. He appears even more concerned when instead of pulling Occy to rescue, he gets dragged in himself. All was well, five Frenchmen later and half-drowned Octavia, we were good to continue down the rapids.