Read other Parisian adventures
Today is 25 October 2023. I spent the day, as any Parisian would – working. However, my work doesn’t pay, and it also involves copious episodes of “Brooklyn 99” while waiting for a phone call. So, perhaps, I did not spend my day like a Parisian. Yet, I did spend my evening like one. I think. Before we get there, I’ve been trying to limit how often I go out. I don’t think Parisians eat out every day…do they? Well, in any case, I decided to make supper for myself. Pork and some salad with that delicious Roen creamy cheese. MHM!
Bar Hemingway…nah
After supper, I looked up directions again to what the French call Bar Hemingway. It’s a difficult translation, so allow me to help. It’s Hemingway’s Bar. As the story goes, Hemingway was one of the first to liberate Paris. He entered the hotel ready to rock and roll. He was told no guns were allowed. So, he figured “I’ll just get wasted”. And he went to the small bar in the back and drank a bunch of martinis…I think it was Martinis. So they named the bar after him. Unfortunately, another minor reason to limit going out all the time is budgeting. If I’m to make it to a few other countries and still have money for when I’m home, gotta budget accordingly. Anyways, the average drink price, I discovered, was $35…so I decided to pass on visiting that bar. Sorry, Hemingway.
Chez Ammad
I researched cheap beer in Paris. Plenty of options. I picked the closest one to me: about 30 minutes via the metro. I studied the directions carefully. Stop at Place de Clichy. Go around the…roundabout. A right on Boulevard de Clichy. Pass the Moulin Rouge (also expensive at like $225/person. But it’s dinner and a show, which makes sense). Left on Rue Lepic. Right on Rue Veron. Voila! Despite the bar being near the Moulin Rouge, it’s still far out of the way. I mean, it’s a few streets away and nestled between more apartment buildings and a hotel.

I felt confident with the directions and even picked a second bar to head towards after a beer at Chez Ammad. A brief notice if you choose to visit this bar: it doesn’t actually say “Chez Ammad” anywhere outside. But the picture from Google Maps is exactly what it looks like. I’d say I’m ashamed I didn’t take any pictures, but (spoiler alert) I had a great night.
Upon Arrival
After passing the bar back and forth a couple of times, I finally realized that it didn’t have any name. It was simply a hotel and bar. Everyone was smoking cigarettes. And at least one person smoked weed. I pardoned my way through several people and got to the bar, where a jovial man was conversing with a friend. He poured me a beer and went back to his friend. So I assumed I’d pay later. At first, I stood at the bar and looked around, studying the people, the walls adorned with paintings and pictures, and the quaintness. It’s a very small bar. A group of six or seven older folks conversed in speedy quips, followed by laughter. A football match (European, of course) played on a TV overhead. Only two people watched it, one of them was the bartender. I figured Hemingway might enjoy this bar as well, but I also haven’t read much of his work or knew him, so that may mean nothing.
Antoine
After a few sips of the delicious beer, I stepped outside to join the throng of people. It didn’t take long for a tall, moustached man to approach me. He spoke his French just a little slower than most Parisians. I realized pretty quickly that he had been there longer than I and was just a little drunk. He was also not from Paris. When he realized I was from the US he jumped into talking politics. Trump. Biden. Right. Left. I was mostly enamored by his accent. Thick. Sort of cliche, but wonderful. When he asked if I was boring him, I said of course not, and paid closer attention. He called the Seine “prosaic.” Which meant nothing to me until I looked it up. Prosaic means dull. I suppose the river is dull to French people, but not me. This man is Antoine. Antoine is trying to stop smoking.
Antoine said we should talk about ourselves. He is 47 with three kids and works as an engineer. I told him I’m 30, single, and (sort of) a videographer. He liked this and brought over a woman – his girlfriend, wife, or partner? She spoke decent enough English, and we discussed how to learn another language. Music was the agreed-upon method, especially when learning proper phrases. She brought up an American song I’d never heard that was a bit homophobic. She didn’t like that part, but the song made sense.
Other Patrons
I noticed a young guy with a camera, followed by a young woman with a beer and a cigarette. I asked what they were up to. “We’re making a documentary on this bar. I love this bar. It’s not like any other bar in Paris.” She was from London, so her accent was interesting when speaking fluent French. It was interesting to watch these two work with an old Nikon. I think they got some good shots. Hopefully, I can watch it when it’s done.
I also met an older guy who liked high-fiving and then holding my hand after for at least ten seconds…so I wasn’t sure if that was a French thing or a gay thing. As long as he wasn’t groping me – whatever. Antoine and I kept talking most of the night, usually repeating the same questions and answers. It was humorous. “How is it that you, uh, arrived here, uh, at this bar tonight?” He’d ask. “Well, I was looking up cheap beer…j’ai cherche pour la biere pas chere.” He nodded. And then he got some tobacco, paper, and a lighter from his girlfriend.
Antoine introduced me to a lot of people, like Christian. Christian is a roofer, specializing in zinc and a certain stone that I forgot the name of. I temporarily learned a lot of new words last night. But a few beers and my excitement wiped it away. Oh well! Christian barely spoke any English, but I enjoyed seeing his great work. At midnight, he was planning to wake up at six the next morning. God bless that man!
Travel Tip
As the night drew to a close, I spoke to an older lady. She was short, and it hurt my neck to talk down at her, but I enjoyed our conversation. This lady spoke perfect English and knew French, Spanish, Egyptian, Portuguese, and German. I’m sure there’s another she knew as well. She traveled all over for work and lives in Spain now. “The people are much nicer than in Paris. They aren’t aggressive or rude.”
She said something that may change how I travel: “Learn to understand by listening before speaking.” Understand what people say in a language before attempting to speak that language. I’ve been wandering around Paris asking for things and such in French. I imagine that makes folks guess I’m fluent. Which I am certainly not. So I wonder if it’s rude to say something and get a person’s hopes up that I can comprehend their words.
Learn to understand by listening before speaking
In some places, the ones I really enjoy, people don’t speak English. So I need to speak French. That pressure can be helpful to push me toward comprehension. But this old lady may be on to something. It could be wiser (and kinder) to listen and understand before speaking more French. Not sure yet if I’ll follow the advice. But I’ll try to explain to people sooner that I speak English much better than French.
Au Revoir
I tried saying goodbye three or four times, especially to Antoine. Eventually, as we crossed the street together, he got the message. We shook hands several times. He explained a history lesson I already knew, but I liked hearing it from him. Back in the day, shaking hands was a way of showing you were unarmed, or ready to talk rather than fight. I asked him if he’d be back at the bar, because I certainly would. He mentioned his three kids and work, broke into some quick French, and then said, “Nick, we may never meet ever again.”
That was a punch of reality for me. I really appreciated everyone I met at Chez Ammad. The atmosphere was great, potentially more Parisian than anything I’d experienced yet. I hope I see Antoine and some of the others again, but if not, that’s life. Gotta appreciate the moments as they happen. They’re quick before they’re gone. So thanks to Antoine, the old lady, and Antoine’s girlfriend for some life lessons. Bonne soirée!
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