Yesterday we decided to enjoy a happy-hour round of drinks in one of the several cafes in the busy plaza beneath our apartment in Montpellier.
It’s tough to make out the bronze statue in the center of the plaza, partly obscured by the umbrella stand, but it’s of Jean Jaurès, after whom the plaza is named. I’ll let the reader determine whether there’s a hint of irony in a plaza named after the father of French socialism having almost every square inch of its surface covered with commercial enterprises.
The service in our cafe was subpar, but the overall ambiance of watching the world go by in this bustling historic district of small metropolis more than made up for it. Our order: one pint of 1664, one mojito.
Can you guess which one of us had which drink?
Interesting side note: More and more I’m finding servers using the word “pinte” here in Montpellier. It’s not a metric unit from any textbook I’ve ever read, but at 50 centiliters, it’s slightly larger than a U.S. pint and considerably smaller than a British pint. In one place I asked for a 50-centiliter glass of beer and was “corrected” to pinte.