Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
course without at least some kind of body part in it. Ever. I explain all this as a precursor to
what happened next.
We pulled up in front of ItsWill's very nice restaurant which was pulsating with aro-
matic smells. My broad smile quickly transformed into a grimace as I realised that our
much-anticipated pleasurable dining experience was doomed.
Jack is definitely limited when it comes to spotting the blindingly obvious unless, of
course, it is something to do with a spreadsheet or a mechanical item. On this occasion it
was a useful deficit, but I knew it couldn't last long. I enjoyed those scant moments of ig-
norance before the first comprehension of what we had walked into became apparent.
Happily, he didn't seem to notice the large sign emblazoned across the front of the res-
taurant wall. This proudly proclaimed it as being the best vegetarian restaurant in Provence,
specialising in regional delicacies that were infused with herbs and spices. Nor did the
penny drop when he practically tripped over the A-board positioned directly outside the
front door inscribed with
Fruits de Provence Végétarienne
.
Blissfully unaware of these subtleties, absorbed as he was with his lecture about the
need to call in Cesar Milan to sort out my dog, he settled down at the table. Turning his
attention to his stomach and much to the horror of the attending waiter, he pre-empted his
order with a declaration that surely was rarely (if ever) heard in that establishment.
“I'm starving,” he announced. “I could eat a horse!”
