Bike filled up with gas, bags packed, future unknown….is there a more liberating feeling than the departure of an adventure? I think not.
I couldn’t resist. When I saw the name on the map, I had to double-check and make sure it was really true. Wow, seriously, people actually called a town “condom”? This is awesome! I have to make it my first stop. It’s only located a few hours south of Bordeaux, and the pure comedic value of claiming I’ve been to Condom, France is worth the extra hour it tacks onto my first day.
I had lunch at a local bakery in Condom, and dug up a few bits of information while chatting with some energetic locals:
Contrary to popular belief the condom was not invented in Condom, France.
In fact, according to my bakery friends, Condom doesn’t even sell condoms in their stores. There are a handful of stores in Condom and they only sell local produce and locally manufactured commodities. My gut questions these statements, but Jean Michel, a friendly old gentleman with a limp, stands by his word. He also mentioned these circumstances, have led to high adolescent pregnancy rates and a serious business opportunity.
Condom also means nothing in French, they call a Jimmy hat a preservative.
I wish I had more time to go condom hunting in Condom, but I need to make it to my camping spot for a big day tomorrow.