Normandy A La Carte 2011

 

Being a “newbie” in the prep school teaching scene, I felt that the call-up to help staff the Y6 trip to Normandy might have been overly ambitious, pushing the new recruit one step too far, you might say. “Rustic setting”, “Basic Amenities”, “No baths” – Mrs Caratelli’s briefing struck fear into my heart. “Seasick children”, “Homesick children”, “Responsible for passports and all monies” – this really was going to be tough......

 

How wrong I was.

 

I’ve never been as impressed with the Y6 children as I was whilst accompanying them on this memorable trip to France. From day one they came together as a group, making our job as teachers extremely easy. Indeed, the positive atmosphere on the coach as we made our way to Portsmouth set the tone for our week away. All, including the adults, were immediately aware of who the boss was: A Monsieur Fabrice – legendary coach driver-come-kickboxer and hygiene fanatic. Not only were the children not allowed to eat on the coach, they were advised not to rile Fabrice in any way. Adults adhered to the same rules. I found myself resisting the urge to pop a Morrison’s buttermint into my mouth for fear of Fabrice’s critical and somewhat inhuman all-seeing eye. He ran a tight ship, even before we had embarked on one!

 

The 6hr crossing to Ouistreham passed without incident, the Travel pills and Nintendo DSs (a formidable formula) working their magic. On our arrival, all three teachers were able to laugh aloud when Master Craig observed that “everything (was in) in French”: simple and yet reassuringly profound for 10pm! Seeing the gite for the first time, and finding out dormitory allocations,sent all the good work our friend Tiredness had done out of the fenetre (window). A late night was had as whispers wafted through Farmhouse windows into the French countryside, winding their way slowly towards the coastline, which lay a short 3 miles from our door.

 

On Day One we sampled circus skills and kayaking / canoeing on rotation. Mr Vickers-Jones asserted himself as Actionman Extraordinaire by supervising both sessions on the lake. The time he spent damp and a little cold did little for his trainer-odour condition, but it did allow the children to come to terms with his status in the group; they quickly learnt that Mr VJ’s energy levels were superior even to their own. My kayaking partner – a Master Pugh – did his best to qualify us for “wettest kayaking combination of the year”, and a pre-dinner water fight meant all retired at the end of day exhausted as well as rather saturated.

 

Day Two saw the Daneshill party explore the region with History hats firmly in place. A morning visit to the Bayeaux Tapestry was followed by tours of a Memorial Ground and, later, the Normandy Landing beaches. The moving 360° cinema show was certainly a personal highlight, and did a great job in communicating the fear and uncertainty of the age. Indeed, our children were able to recognise the impact this war had on the French nationals as well as their own country’s youth, proving themselves to be mature beyond their years. Ice-creams, crepes and village explorations followed at the close of the day before we allowed the disciplinarian to drive us, to what had quickly become, home.

 

Day Three can only really be characterised by food. When in France, as everyone knows, one is expected to eat tres, tres, tres grand amounts of bread and cheese. It is a fate one must accept or even, as was the teachers’ motto, embrace. It is not something one can avoid; in reality, in some cases (insert own names here), it is a consecration devoutly to be wished!  Until this day, the children had been well catered for by Andrew and his team. Their challenge on Mercredi, however, was to source their own lunch from a bustling French market before heading to a goat farm to plunge in to their delectable acquisitions. As ever, we teachers were extremely impressed by the children’s approach to the task. They rose to the challenge, stunning their teachers by unveiling healthy combinations (that Dr. Gillian Mckeith herself would have been proud of) at their respective picnic tables.  Monsieur Martin did his best to undo all this good work when he plied us with creamy cheese later that afternoon. His tour around the enchanting goat farm was informative (we learnt not only how to milk a goat but, higher-level agricultural skill here - how to diagnose pregnancy) and heart-warming (new-born goat, Caesar, had us all in goat heaven.) 

 

Day Four was full of intense and physically demanding activities. The high-ropes (and, boy, were they high!) had my stomach in knots and, as one who suffers sever vertigo, I marvelled at the children’s willingness to hurl themselves around the demanding courses. Being on the ground may have been more comfortable for this acrophobe, but the children were in their element in the trees, working for and with each other in a way that Xavier (the course owner) recognised as superior to any other nation’s children. Their kind words at importune times helped those who were struck momentarily by fear, and I was reduced to even more of a jibbering wreck through a more welcome emotion: pride. 

Later on Thursday afternoon, we set sail....but this time on the beach. Sand yachting was new to all bar one of us (Mrs Caratelli: the seasoned professional) but we were quick learners in a generous wind. The yachts were forgiving of their drivers and, whilst the activity generated high levels of adrenalin (levels synonymous with the most challenging of extreme sports), all the teachers were relieved when we all walked away unscathed. This was not an activity for the faint-hearted, and my heart had already been through the mill (and then some) that day. Just incase the children weren’t exhausted enough, the evening saw an inter-gite obstacle race competition. Our children were mixed up with children from Arnold Lodge (who were staying at the sister gite across the way), and enjoyed the opportunity to mix with new people. Some threw themselves in to this more than others; a lasting memory will certainly be Miss Tara Davis’ offer of a piggyback to a new Arnold Lodge friend: integration at its finest.

 

Friday’s walk across the bay to Mont St. Michel was, undoubtedly, one of the most unforgettable experiences of the week. Woody (of ex-Marine and myth-telling fame) lead us out onto a foggy plain, reminiscent of those haunting, gas-filled battle fields not so far away. We teachers were slightly alarmed when we noticed the not-so-subtle switching on of satnav technology: something Woody had not needed to do up until this day this year! Luckily for us, the fog lifted quickly, revealing the distant cathedral: a beacon to which all eyes were quickly and longingly turned.   The walk was demanding in the unexpected sun, though all children kept a good pace behind their awesome leader. We had a little play in quicksand (as one does on such occasions) before heading in to the city for an orienteering activity a lá Guede, our French leader for the week. 

 

Shopping came next: tourist shop and supermarket varieties. Certainly, the bon-bon aisle welcomed more international visitors than, perhaps, the teachers would have liked, but there really is no getting away from the fact that the French know how to boil a sweet! I do hope all the gifts the children bought home were well received; as ever, we were startled by their generosity and honest concerns for the desires of those they had left at home.

 

Saying goodbye to a place one has come to rest in is never easy. Our week had been a fast-paced, utterly enjoyable one so the thought of several hours at sea and time to sit and think was not that appealing. Luckily for us, though, the children lifted our spirits and the journey home was as full of fun and laughter as all previous days had been. 

 

That was what Normandy had been all about: fun and laughter. The children were extremely lucky to have been given the opportunity to create such fabulous memories, and I (along with my colleagues Mrs Caratelli and Mr Vickers-Jones) feel lucky to have been there with them, watching the children take all they could out of the experience, having lots of fun with them along the merry way.