Finding a good pub in a French town can be like trying to find a good French restaurant in Skegness. Tricky. All you may find are smoky tabacs, snooty bistros or fake Irish bars full of teenagers, where a plastic pint of bad lager costs a small fortune. But sometimes, if you get lucky, you can find a real gem.
“Last petrol pump in the valley of gods” reads the sign. March 2009, I'm on a motorbike tour of northern India, en route to the spectacular Himalayan road at Jalori pass. While riding down the Kullu valley, I reach a roadblock, where two armed police men approach me.