French trip, la deuxième partie. The trek to Lautrec.

I love it when family and friends are pleased for me. Like when I announced we were off to the south of France for holidays. There was general approval from most people in my life. Then the trouble started. It began as a simple request from Matt, a colleague in work “Are you going near that place where you ge the garlic?” Like the gullible enthusiast that I am, I replied “Yes, I think we will head over to Lautrec one of the days.”

We were staying on the south-east coast, near Narbonne. What was I thinking? Lautrec, the undeniable world capital of pink garlic, is a 300k round trip away. Still, a promise is a promise and the Wife and I decided to make a day of it. I had only one dark secret hidden from the Wife. Matt was not the only person with an interest in this trip.

Then there was Liam, Steve and Anne.

Jer, Jamie, Gavin and Stephen.

Not to forget Robin, Niel, Bamboo and the Wicklow Hunter.

Carol, Tom, Brian and Matt. Don’t forget Matt, he started this!

Now, Lautrec may be the pink garlic capital of the known world but there is not a lot else goes on there. We had got up early and I used the drive through the spectacular Black Mountains to break this news to the Wife about where we, and most of our holiday funds, were going. The scenery on the trip saved me to some degree. As did a lovely lunch in a small mountain town on the return leg.

The total haul, including some loose bulbs thrown in for good measure, weighed in at 18 kilos. I carried that in the car for the 1,200 km return to home in Ireland. On the trip, I had time to think and I did some mental calculations. That extra weight used the same energy as carrying 1.8 tons of garlic for 12 kilometers. I decided to not think much more about it. Next year, I’ll keep my mouth shut or holiday at home.