Stuff The Consequences: Italian Alps 2014

So it's Sunday morning and so far it is only Max who has used the 'foot spa come bidet' to clean his southern rear crevice. Today we are running something we know will be hard, and everyone is in need of a nervous poo. Stu took the initiative to Google how to use a bidet, as well as reassure ourselves of what we had in our bathroom. The first photo seen didn't really confirm much, however further research confirmed that Max has used our previous foot spa appropriately. Using how to guides, with accompanying pictures, Stu learned the correct method and also that the usual practice was a communal towel. Feeling this would be to intimate between the lads, we decided to draw the line here - I don't think any of us need Jonny's vast amount of nether-region hair on a shared towel. So defecation complete, we headed to grab some bread for the lunches post river, and then got to the Middle Sesa (after learning it was between an 80 and 90 on the gauge).

I drove to the get off and started walking up, thinking I would easily see a kayak on top of a vehicle, so that I could hitch lift. Unfortunately, during the first 200m of running I saw nothing. So I continued on, raising my thumb every time I saw a car, but no one stopped. About 2km into my run, I was getting warm, clearly the cardio I was avoiding pre-trip, to ensure I kept my gains, was erroneous. I de-shirted and cracked on with the climb, ensuring that the thumb was up as people drove past, but the trend of no-one stopping continued. I would have hoped my blindingly bright white figure would cause the traffic to slow down enough for them to have to stop. Then I may just have been able to open their door? Luckily, after a couple of miles uphill, a car with a kayak was coming! With a thumb raised and hope on my heart, it stopped and I jumped in. With little breath I thanked the driver, to realise it was the same chap as yesterday. He took me to the get on, also providing me with an authentic Italian driving: where he tailgated the car in front at high speeds.

The first rapid of the river was quality, nice grade 4, providing us with a good indication of the things to come. The river provided three portages in total (although Max did run the final drop). Lots of kayakers were on the run and we managed to get down fine. The get off provided some amazing gelato, where we chilled out and discussed the boundaries of relationships (unfortunately Max could only speculate about the possibilities - lucky of him Tyrone is his new companion).

We got home to 2 of the locals, within the smallest of hamlets our apartment is in, who were shouting in Italian at us. We had no idea what to do, as they seemed to angrily ask; 'had we been on the water', and 'therefore why we were dry'? Through prolonged hand gestures and random words being said from both parties, we were shown the pet guinea pig and then told about how the hamlet got 6 foot of snow in the winter. It was a strange hour or so, where randomly laughing and saying the first thing in our minds seemed to provide enough conversation.

Swap the nutella for wine, and this is the guy who was shouting excitedly

Interlingual banter over, the rest of the afternoon/evening was spent playing cards and chilling out.

Monday morning started with bidet-ing and breakfast, after a late night watching a film. We headed to the Lower Mastellone, which provided a beautiful grade 3/4 river. We had decided to do the shuttle after paddling, so we got off and I started the assent. There were no kayakers in sight, and as each car passed, my thumb was raised with less enthusiasm, until an estate stopped. At least I had thought it was an estate, however it was one of those estate come van things, with a couple in the front two (and only) seats, and their dog in the back/boot. The lady gestured me into the boot with this mutt and what seemed to be diesel tank. I imagined that their following utterances where enquiring to where I was headed, and having forgotten the name of the village in which I parked, I just said a random name and pointed uphill. They suggested a name, which rang a bell, so I shouting 'Ci' (which I think is Spanish, but I don't know what yes is in Italian). During the drive, the dog took a liking to his new passenger, and this was shown quite vividly with his penis poking out like a light rose lipstick right near my face; like, I really couldn't get away from it. With the diesel fumes making me feel woozy, the Italians asking me random questions in Italian and the dog penis right next to my face, I was feeling rather overwhelmed. As I tried to push the dog into a more favourable position, he took this to mean let's play. Now this excited dog was licking my face with his most probably groin tainted tongue, the Italians seemed to enjoy this fact with laughter and Italian words, and I was hoping that we wouldn't drive past my hoe, as at this moment running seemed preferable. Luckily they stopped in the lay-by with the car and I said my thank yous and got the hell out of the boot. Changing and getting to the bottom, I was glad to put the experience behind me.

The afternoon was spent in the Gronda, which is a steep pool drop type river, and the other three ran the Sorba Slides whilst I made a new donkey friend: