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Cognac and raw pasta on the menu (21)

• Ben Dirs
• 12 Sep 07, 12:09 PM

Condom, France - I swear on everything that is dear to me that we did not plan to end up in last night.

The idea was to stop off in on the way to Toulouse, but the lack of a campsite meant we had to push on a few extra miles and the next decent-sized town happened to be what the French might refer to as capote anglaise.

We resisted taking a hilarious picture of one of us sniggering under a Condom road sign, but it does mean we will have to put our snail eating contest on the backburner for a couple of weeks.

After a weekend of I decided it was time for a bit of Ben Time on Tuesday.

So while Tommy weaved his bike along the banks of the River Charente, past the fields of sunflowers and vineyards that dominate the outskirts of Cognac, I got stuck into some of the local firewater at the

All I knew about brandy before my little tour was that my nan used to nick it off my dad every Christmas and he鈥檇 get the hump, but, courtesy of my lovely guide Sophie, I now consider myself to be something of a connoisseur.

Consider this: only 1% of the Cognac produced each year is consumed in France and it must spend at least two years in special oak barrels before being bottled. Impressed?

That said, I still gurned my way through a glass of Hennessy鈥檚 finest like Brian Ashton re-watching

What the tour really rammed home was France鈥檚 fierce pride in its native produce, something that is evident everywhere you go in this peach of a country.

The economy may have stagnated somewhat of late, but you get the sense that, unlike in Britain, preservation of culture is what really matters in France.

Service stations are a case in point. While the best Britain can offer are cooked breakfasts that are lumpier, both in a literal and financial sense, than a toad with smallpox, in France our little driving breaks have largely been about espresso and fruit.

鈥淲e鈥檒l do these nectarines and get back on the road鈥� is not a phrase I would ever utter on leaving a Welcome Break back in Blighty, but Tommy has transformed my eating habits in the one week we鈥檝e been here.

Indeed, what with his lack of exercise and my new healthy diet, it鈥檚 quite possible that we will be a couple of stone closer in weight by the end of the trip.

Last night we watched and both of us remarked on the contrast between this World Cup and the mostly excruciating cricket equivalent we both covered earlier this year.

If the French can somehow fiddle their way through to the last eight, we could have a classic tournament on our hands.

A quick message to the bosses back home: don鈥檛 worry, we haven鈥檛 blown anyone鈥檚 head off in the back of The Bloggernaut, but it may be time to call for

Each new dawn brings a new catastrophe, and both being lapsed Catholics, it is difficult not to think that The Big Man is pulling, or indeed severing, a few strings.

It took us the best part of a day to send our latest piece of video back to Television Centre and yesterday we reached our campsite after five hours on the road to find the gas had packed up.

A new depth was then plumbed as Tom tucked into a dinner of raw pasta while I was forced to complement my Chateau de Respide with half a pack of chocolate digestives.

A little tip for all you motor home enthusiasts out there (honk honk!): apparently, while the Calor gas system may be de rigueur back in Blighty, it鈥檚 not widely used on the Continent. So, should be a touch sorting that out鈥�

Today we head for Toulouse, where we have tickets for Japan v Fiji this evening. Any tips as to where to stay would, as ever, be greatly appreciated.

PS. Former England prop and fellow blogger Victor Ubogu
has been in touch inviting us to a bash in Paris on Thursday. Alas, Victor, we鈥檒l be in Bordeaux, but if you鈥檙e still about in the latter stages, we鈥檒l gladly fill our boots with some Ubogu juice.

PPS. That picture at the top of the blog is not a set-up. I wrote this in front of the village of La Romieu, a 12th Century village and a UNESCO world heritage site. This country鈥e may never come back鈥�

PPPS. The good news is I鈥檝e purchased some new pants. The bad news is I had none of my own money on me at the time, so you paid for them. Don鈥檛 worry, the money will be reimbursed in six weeks鈥� time.

Ben Dirs is a 91热爆 Sport journalist travelling around France in a camper van with Tom Fordyce.

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