"Bonne chance!" shouted the barman as we left the hipster place on Rue Menilmontant where we had just asked the question, "Do you have any cider?" Well, we were in luck because we'd been to a bar a few nights before that did indeed serve cider, and we were going to return. I don't know if cider is seen as a hobo drink in Paris--not quite sophisticated or cosmopolitan enough--but it is hard to find. Certainly, the only place that you will find it on tap is in an Irish pub and it's probably going to be Magner's. But La Pétanque, thankfully had some very good Breton cider, albeit in 25cl bottles, which slaked our thirst. "Where are you from, my friend?" the kindly barman who had remembered us asked in French. "Angleterre, de Londres," I said. I also explained that cider is served in pints in England, hence the fact that my boyfriend and I had sunk three bottles apiece. "Everyone is welcome here," our new friend said, eyes shining, as if we were now part of the club. And it kind of does feel like a club, with a pinball machine in the corner, a few bar flies who never seem to leave, and great music on the speakers; we felt right at home.