Day thirty

France: L’argentiere

Sunday 3rd August

Messing about on the river.

We awoke as early as we could muster and set out with the intention of hiring canoes for the day. We didn’t quite fancy the 32KM route and 8KM didn’t really seem worth it so we eventually found a hire place offering a 14KM stretch. We were to be taken up river at 2pm and in the meantime we were free to Lunch on the beach, exactly what we did.

Swimming in the river to cool off we bucked up the courage to do some more river jumping this time from a higher rock, I took the fist plunge in an unusual rush of courage screeching as I whizzed through the air. I landed at an angle, the velocity stunning me somewhat, but giving a real sense of exhilaration. Soon Ian had plunged with similar screams and Johnathon was tinkering on the edge trying to muster up the courage to make the leap before his own silent panic as he took a leap of faith into the cooling water. Having used up all our courage we lunched under some trees by the beach watching other canoes’ sail by before heading back up to base for paddles and life jackets and our trip up stream.

Initially the collection of people that had gathered were asked to take a seat in a clapped out old mini bus, jumping into the front cab had a birds eye view, but it soon became clear that there were more passengers than seats so after somewhat of a kafuffle, another mini bus was brought up from the beach and we were on our way.

We wound our way upstream, nearing our set sail point our minibus veered past a camel, a llama and some baby goats! All of whom were tied to trees at the edge of the road. We assumed they were part of a circus act, a big top on the other side of the road being a bit of a give away, clearly not many vehicles came up to this part of the river.

As we bounced off route on an unpaved road we pulled alongside the rivers edge disturbing a group of young guys and a few girls who looked to be kind of camped out for a few days (the number of beer bottles pilled up around their cars being a bit of a give away). They all had eyes as big as plates so I’m guessing that beer hadn’t been the only intoxicant! Without batting an eye lid, our drivers commenced their canoe lessons, how to steer and how to navigate the river etc, first in French then an abridged version in English for our benefit.

It wasn’t long before we were messing about on the river. The first hurdle was a water shute over a weir, not many meters from our launch point. We all managed this without a hitch giving us all the confidence to paddle on. It was a blisteringly hot day so the water sploshing around us was all very welcome. Johnathon and Ian managed some serious zig zagging, it was Johnathon’s first time in a solo canoe but no one seemed to mind. We managed the second weir with no problem, being helped along the way by an amazingly friendly Dutch family who seemed to be having great fun guiding us to the right spot and sending us on our way for the second water shute. The second shute being a lot scarier as it had no sides just a ramp, but again we all sailed down like pros, my faith in the Dutch restored.

As we glided down the river, dragon fly’s zooming around us, we gathered pace stopping frequently for swims and cools downs and for that all important beer o’clock. As we sailed deeper into the gorge the rapids gave us something more challenging. Johnathon stumbled at one of them, none of us were really sure what happened, one second he was upright the next completely under water. He made a surprisingly fast recovery and soon we were all on our way again.

One of the highlights of the trip was that our route took us under the Pont D’arc, the site of our picnic, the previous day. It was a special moment and as we glided underneath I had a passing memory of canoeing here as a teenager. Here the river is at it deepest and the accessible rocks at their highest. I remembered that some of the teenage group I had sailed with all those years ago had jumped into the river from this spot. Not having had the courage as a teenager, I now flagged down Ian and Johnathon for the jump of a lifetime. We clambered up the cliff side and reached the jump point and without too much hesitation I threw myself off the cliff. Wow it was amazing, even more so because I’d conquered something I didn’t have the bottle to do as a kid. Ian and Johnathon followed, all still alive to tell the tale!

As we neared our destination, our arms and shoulders aching, it was a relief to arrive at the beach dragging our canoes ashore and clambering back up the beach to Priscilla. We ate that evening in the Auberge, another splendid meal accompanied with plenty of wine to numb our aching limbs. That night we took a late night amble down by the river, quite how we clambered on down there in the dark I’ve no idea (we certainly had a few scratches the following morning). But the view of the milky way, in all its splendour, was well worth it. I remember drunkenly ambling our way back through the campsite taking a short cut and somehow or other we woke up someone sleeping in a hammock. It was all a bit of a blur!