Isn't it incredible how much you can fit into a week? Erik and I covered hundreds of miles, walking all over Paris and Rome. His uncanny sense of direction and Spanish definitely saved us (although he suspiciously managed to navigate us past every single men's clothing store on the way to sights).
A while back, we booked the trip for our birthdays from the super-cheap aggregator EuropeanDestinations.com. We randomly picked our hotels and wound up at Tryp de Saxe; our room was teeny-tiny, but clean and centrally located. Every morning, we dined on cappuccinos and croque monsieurs at sidewalk cafe or patisserie while Erik caught up on e-mails and I people-watched. Parisians truly have the best sense of style. Also, they tend to carry a baguette more often than not.
Then we hit the pavement to see the sights. We usually picked a few destinations—the Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Notre Dame, a store that carries Erik's line—and then meandered around the windy cobblestone streets on our way there, shopping and snacking on buttery croissants and sweet clouds of macarons.
One day, we rented the city bikes (tip: most of the machines only take AmEx) and pedaled past cascading fountains and wrought-iron-covered buildings. On Erik's birthday, we took the metro and elbowed past the crowds to visit a flea market, then sipped wine at the restaurant at the top floor of the Pompidou. In the background, the Eiffel tower twinkled like a giant sparkler.
But probably my favorite part of the trip was soaking up the local culture. We ate dinner with some of Erik's funny French streetwear homies in the charming Montmarte neighborhood. After we parted ways, Erik and I devoured a piping hot nutella-and-banana crepe from a stand. It was the perfect end to the French leg of our trip.
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