The Real McCoy

Friday was our first full day. Up until this point, I spent most of my time getting around Paris underground.


Though the Metro provides probably the cheapest and most efficient means of getting from A to B or the left bank to the right, the views are less than spectacular.


So, I was excited for William and I to take to the streets first thing Friday morning for the Fat Tire Bike Tour.


I'm ordinarily one to steer clear from "touristy" activities (pun kinda sorta--ok definitely!--intended), but the beautiful blue skies were practically begging us to cycle through the city. Turns out, it was a highlight of the trip for us both.


The Parisian people and pups alike were clearly itching for an early start to their weekend, too.


The patches of grass were always occupied with at least a few picnickers.


The whole tour production is operated by Americans and was actually started by an A&M grad, which might explain why half of our group was from Texas.


So, we made some friends from home while enjoying the breeze through the boulevards and brushing up on our royal history.


Major take-away: there were two equally greedy King Louis, the first was a playboy, the second a big spender.


We stopped for lunch in the middle of the beautiful Tuilerie gardens


where William tried another French classic, a croque monsieur,


before we pedalled on. In this photo, you'll find a palace and...a goat.


The final pitstop was the Eiffel Tower and a photo op was sure, so cliché, but also so necessary.


The tour helped us get our bearings and inspired ideas for the rest of the day. We spied something I had on our agenda for later--The Berges, a new outdoor activity area along the Seine that offers picnic tables with checkerboards, tapas bars and casual cocktails.


There serve up something for him and her in plastic cups--a classic French beer 1664 and rosé.


Probably our most anticipated dining experience was planned for this night--the steak-frites at le Relais de l'Entrecote. The menu offfers one thing and one things only--steak, french fries and a buttery herby sauce. For someone who suffers from indecisiveness and occasional plate envy, I didn't mind only having to tell the waitress whether I wanted my meat pink or red and my wine red or white.


The serve your meat at two points during the meal to ensure you get it warm from the kitchen. William is a sauce specialist, so he was just as pleased when they doused more sauce after dishing out more filet.


We walked off our meal down the Champs-Ellyssés and up to the Arc to get a new vantage point of the place we took by bicycle storm just that afternoon.


We made it to the top just in time to watch the sun go down (which happens after ten o'clock during the summer) and see the city of lights do its thing.


We did Paris on foot and on bike,


by day and


by night.


All that was left was to sleep tight.