The French are so french that when I volunteered to help staff a camp in France, the last two days of “prep” I was put through before the kids arrived consisted of drinking and smoking on the bank of the seine late into the night, getting a lunchtime train to the puy region, then drinking rosé, eating charcuterie, and sharing stories with some of the local organisers all afternoon and evening. This was considered appropriate because it was to be a dry, nonsmoking camp, so we’d only be allowed to have the charcuterie for the next 3 weeks.