Ardéche Adventure Training Camp

One fine English morn, thirty-something mischievous cadets absconded upon the palace that is Kings School Chester, with the intent purpose of entering a fantastically plush coach, inbound for the sunny haven that is Lou Valagran, France, home to the NST camp and temporary lodgings to the amalgamation of cadets from multiple schools, including Caldy Grange Grammar CCF, Birkenhead School CCF, and Kings School Chester CCF. Our party, led by the extremely punctual Flt. Lt. Guy Shapland, departed the sunny shores of Cheshire at around 6pm on Friday 24th August. The total journey time was about 22 hours, with the battered, but still alive, cadets disembarking at Lou Valagran just in time for lunch.

The first day was spent mainly in administrative jobs, sorting out sleeping accommodation, task groups and preparation for the 26 kilometre Ardéche river descent the morning after. As the sweltering French sun was slowly setting in the west, the party, after supper, went for evening entertainments. The cadets divided into their task groups and the subdivisions of ten went to their respective activities, including bouldering, initiative exercises and the parachute jump/abseil. There was never a boring moment, and the several groups left for their chalets thoroughly exhausted and extremely excited about the forthcoming trek down the Ardéche.

The Sunday morning was extremely productive, and the whole expedition departed by coach to the start of our voyage at Valon - Pont d’Arc, a local boating town on the only natural stone arch in the world with running water running through it. The whole group divided again into smaller groups and were given the task of naming them. Our group was happily being named “The Dream Team”, until a lovestruck Ben Moss decided that as we were going to be wet all day, the name “The ‘Wet’ Dream Team” would be more applicable. The name stuck, and the obviously superior Wet Dream Team set sail upon the Deche. The collection of Canadian canoes departed at about 1230 hours, paddling for about six hours until we reached a fifty foot rock jump, in which a brave seven year old, belonging to one of the staff on the trip bravely led the charge off the cliff face. We reached the Gaud bivvy site at about 1800 hours, and about 8 kilometres into the journey. The bivvy site itself was nothing to be admired. The wash facilities were unisex, and the shower doors themselves would not lock. The latrines were “of the squat type”, and the amount of large insects found in the sink area was staggering. The evening games were fashioned of a towel, a hill, and lots of people running at each other in a breathless game of capture the flag.

Nevertheless, the whole experience was incredibly enjoyable for all, especially sleeping under the stars, as we plotted the moons course over the sky on that particularly clear night, and I believe I speak for everyone, when I say I would not have traded the experience for anything in the world. The day after was another 18 kilometres of hard paddling, rock jumping and white water rapids, and an interesting view of a nudist beach. At the end of it all, all the blistering sun and fantastic views of gorges, and the pristine water, every single person was changed, in the fact that canoeing had become enjoyable. Add that to the ability to see so much natural beauty in just two days, and the end result was staggering.

The Monday evening was extremely restful, with an excursion to Valon - Pont d’Arc again in the morning, and an evening “town trail” to Gourdagues. The 100 foot stone arch up close was absolutely mind-blowing, and the experience was formidable. The hundreds of zealous sun worshippers was a testimony to the tourist sanctity of the area. A perfect days shopping was not to be topped however, as the evening in Gourdagues turned out to be somewhat of an urban nightmare. Our whole party departed at around seven in the evening to the local town of Gourdagues, where we attempted to complete a local questionnaire about the town and its heritage. Our efforts however were hindered by a group of 3 local boys, who had nothing on their minds but hell-bent juvenile disruption of our happiness. My own group was attacked by a boy no older than ten, in which after a fine flurry of French by our own Elizabeth Anderson, the boys were ushered back to their homes by a helpful elder. The rest of the party did not escape unscathed, however, and showing the dedication expected of her, Libby, upon return to camp, composed an extremely well thought, very well versed letter to the town’s mayor. Even the French specialist on camp agreed that it was of an extremely high standard, and we were all very proud to have a special linguist in our midst.

Now, the week was nearly drawing to a close, as Wednesday approached. A multitude of activities ensued, with the task groups splitting up to do different activities on-site, including high ropes, zip wires, kayaking, climbing, Jacobs ladder and more. Thursday and Friday were more of the same, with Thursday holding some “revealing” entertainment by the Cascades, a local group of waterfalls in which a boy who shall remain unnamed attempted to swim in nothing but white cotton underwear. Nice.

Friday evening saw the exit of the extremely satisfied group, and after multiple renditions of the “Shakedown”, a campsite dance, including some additions by the great MC Hammer himself, the coach departed around six, to the great disappointment of all. The hilarity continued right through to the end, where the “Plastic Cup Awards” took place on the coach. Favourite awards included “Most Dangerous Female”, “Tighty – Whitey Award”, “Pimpasaurus Award” and “The Award for the Pair Who Act Most Like They’re A Couple But Aren’t”.

The whole trip cannot be faulted in any way, and I would like to take this opportunity to thank everybody who went on it, including all the staff, all the instructors, and every single cadet who made it all worthwhile. Also, a note to the staff, please can we go again next year?

TI & EFA