GECKO Sighting in Northern France ???

Royston Power Kiters descend on Fort-Mahon-Plage

GECKO, or Great Eastern Counties Kiting Organisation, is a new club in the process of being founded by the Royston Power Kiters, with the ultimate aim of covering the whole of the East Anglia region through affiliation with other local clubs in the area.

RPK has been around for a while, but like Powerkiting itself the club has seen rapid growth over the past year and now has around 25 flying members, with new Kiters turning up all the time. We have a flying site here on the heath at Royston, and whilst we all love it dearly, it’s on a slope and as bumpy as the dodgems at the local funfair.

So we’ve always been keen to explore further afield, and in the depths of winter a plan was hatched for a long weekend bash in France, as it seems the north coast is virtually one huge kiting beach and the French appear to be, shall we say, slightly more open-minded than the UK when it comes to letting people have fun.

Preparation

Of course almost everyone wanted to come along, but due to work and other commitments only 15 of us could actually make it. Now when it comes to finding somewhere for that many people to stay, your choices are fairly limited; in fact you’re going to be lucky if you can find anything at all. As our internet search ruled out hotspots such as Wimereux, Hardelot, Le Touquet and Stella-Plage, I was getting worried as we were heading ever further away from Calais. However, after much perseverance – and a little bit of luck – we happened upon some suitable accommodation in the sleepy little seaside resort of Fort-Mahon-Plage, which at an hour or so from the Channel Tunnel is still well within easy reach.

To keep the costs down we hired a large minibus that could take everyone, and an even larger van that could take all our kit. After some initial worries that it wouldn’t be big enough, the van easily swallowed our 8 buggies, 10 landboards, 40-odd kites and a change of clothes, with just enough room left for the odd pallet or two of beer on the way home.

Day One

To make the most of our four days, we started early at 4am (or maybe that’s still classed as late the previous day?). The logistics of getting everyone together in the middle of the night were tricky to say the least, and I expect my neighbours weren’t too pleased to hear a dawn chorus of diesel engines and slamming van doors, but that was a problem my wife would have to face.

We knew the beach was supposed to be good, however as we drove towards it almost 8 hours later – after stops for breakfast and stocking up on essentials – there was an uneasy trepidation in the bus. But as we got to the seafront and peered over the seawall, a cheer went up, as right in front of us was one of the largest beaches I’d ever seen, with the tide way, way out and a huge expanse of flat sand in both directions along the coast. Right, no hanging about, time to check in to the accommodation, dump our bags and get back to the beach ready for some serious kiting action.

Given that everything had gone so smoothly so far, such was the irony when the one thing we couldn’t control or plan for let us down: the darn weather. Sunny: check. Warm: check. Dry: check. But the dreaded words “no wind” formed on everyone’s lips. It was as calm as a very calm thing on the calmest day of the year.

But we unloaded the kit anyway – after all we’d come all this way to fly kites and we were going to fly kites whatever Mother Nature threw at us, or rather didn’t, and in any case there was nothing much else to do there. So it was out with the very biggest of everyone’s big kites, which was fun for a while but it kind of loses its attraction if you can’t get any traction.

Fortunately being a professional worrier I had tried to cater for every eventuality, and had brought a bag full of the kids’ beach toys. So whilst extreme kiting was out, it was in with extreme Frisbee and cricket – and not just plain old cricket but French cricket of course.

As the tide came in we gave up waiting for wind, but we weren’t too despondent though; after all we had three more days to look forward to and there was plenty of beer and wine back at the chalets. There’s always tomorrow.

Day Two

So as tomorrow arrived there was a mad dash to see if the wind had come with it. We kidded ourselves that it did seem to be windier, but down on the beach we got into what was starting to become a worrying routine: get the kites out, try in vain to get moving, give up, play cricket, sit around waiting for more than a gentle breeze.

This time however our patience paid off, as some genuine wind certainly did arrive later in the afternoon, but unfortunately it brought with it a thick sea mist. We didn’t let this put us off however. After a few minutes of working out where everyone was and trying to fix on one or two landmarks, we managed to get in a nice bit of boarding and buggying action. It was a real adrenalin kick rolling along the beach only just being able to make out your own kite above you, when out of the bright grey mist another huge canopy swoops by. All too soon the days kite action was suspended again as the tide came in once more.

Day Three

On Saturday we finally got some real wind. The only problem was that it was offshore, so it was as lumpy as my Mum’s gravy. But after our wind-starved first two days we lapped it up, and spent the whole day cruising up and down on our boards and buggies. There were a wide variety of kites in use, from Blades and Boras through Frenzy’s and Flysurfers to Bomba's and Venoms.

It was a real struggle to keep up our momentum in such a gusty wind, but no one was complaining too much. Being the weekend there were a lot more people on the beach, including a Land Yacht sailing school, but the size of the place meant that no one was ever in anyone’s way and we all had plenty of space. We had a fantastic day and finally had some serious kiting to celebrate in the bar that night.

Day Four

We packed our bags, waved our goodbyes to the chalets and headed back to the beach for our last chance session, hoping for more of the wind from yesterday. But it wasn’t to be, as we were back to the usual ‘no wind’ routine from the first couple of days.

After more French cricket and Frisbee, we decided to relieve the tedium with some downhill buggy runs in the rather high dunes, which was quite a laugh but we were all worn out through dragging the buggy up after only a few goes.

In the afternoon we decided to call it a day and head off to the tunnel and the supermarkets to stock up on beer, but alas the final irony: Cité D’Europe is closed on a Sunday!

Summary

Whilst the wind wasn’t that good, we all had a great time on our mini French holiday. I was exhausted after the relatively little amount of boarding I did, so I don’t know if I could have survived four full days of it anyway.

The beaches of North France are fantastic; they’re huge, relatively empty and very easy to get to. We’ll definitely be going back soon.