Open bars are like open relationships. Someone’s internal organs are going to get hurt. And even though our hearts were not broken, some livers were certainly damaged.

Jinja, Uganda, is a drinking city with a rafting problem…

As with most adventure capitals, everyone always needs a drink (or 7) to survive the pressure of extreme sports. Unfortunately our group forgot that unlike adventure sports, the effects of drinking last longer than the adrenalin, and in a very short amount of time, half of the group were grade 5 drunk.

The open-bar, sunset booze cruise seemed innocent enough: sunset and snacks, all washed down with some local brew.. But things escalated extremely quickly…

The gin and vodka disappeared quicker than a tourist near a crocodile in the Nile, and drinking games turned into regrets and cold showers.

Lucky for me I was too preoccupied with the excitement of hummus and guacamole to behave like the 21-year-old Australian-abroad stereotype. With a stomach full of chickpeas and happiness the alcohol went down nicely…

I can’t say the same for my empty-stomach binging friends…

By 9pm half of our booze-cruising team had been put to bed. I will not reveal how much guacamole and hummus went undigested and how many tears were shed, but it was safe to say that we would be hearing a few ‘I am never drinking again’ pacts in the morning.

And just like open relationships, the group realised the meaning of ‘too much of a good thing’…