MORGAN BLAETTLER | TRAVEL ADVENTURES
Morgan in Paris: Gilroy Girl Goes Abroad
5 countries. 4 weeks. 3 currencies. Too many pictures! 1 girl.
Zero regrets. Infinite memories.
How does one encapsulate the greatest month of their life in two pages? Do I begin with meeting Mona Lisa at the Louvre or climbing the Eiffel Tower? Perhaps, walking through the rebuilt Notre Dame or cruising the Seine? Arc de Triumph? Underground jazz clubs? Historic heatwave?
Let’ s start with how I ended up in the City of Love. I applied to the American University of Paris to take a nonfiction writing class, which undeniably became my favorite course I’ d ever taken. How could it not be, surrounded by talented writers, the warm yellow lights of the city, and the guidance of my eloquent British writing professor. Moving into my Parisian apartment, I was greeted by Leah, my Irish roommate and classmate, who I joked was tattooed female Shakespeare. She did my tarot card readings and helped me figure out the metro system. We loved each other ' s writing. And by the end of the trip, I think we loved each other too.
On my first weekend solo trip, I met up with my friend Sydney in London, who’ s interning there for the summer. We explored Buckingham Palace. Big Ben. Phone booths. A huge Pride Parade. The next morning, I woke at 6am, packed my bags, and camped out for five hours in hopes of getting into Wimbledon. I was 7139th in the queue. The Beatles played on my headphones. My book, Theo of Golden, in hand. A Swedish
man, convinced he was a Viking, aid I reminded him of a Nordic Dragon. Thanks, I think? And finally, in all my sweaty, luggage-holding glory, I made it into Wimbledon where I watched a women’ s doubles match. I indulged in some strawberries and cream on The Hill while watching Djokovic win alongside hundreds of fans. Then, I ended the day with fish and chips before heading back to Heathrow.
The following Friday, I checked into my very first hostel that sat just a few blocks down from Lake Geneva. I met two girls from Durango, Colorado in the bunk across from me. Their names were Stevie and Shay but they called themselves Thelma and Louise, and they lived up to the coolness of their names— the epitome of two best friends with one traveling soul. They invited me to a concert in the middle of a park that night. On the way, the sky painted the most fierce sunset I’ d ever seen. At the concert, I could taste the music, chills rolling through my skin as my new barefoot friends and I danced in the Reggae rain.
My last weekend, I took the train up to Marloie, Belgium to visit Audrey, the foreign exchange student my parents hosted through Gilroy Rotary when I was 4. When I last saw her, she was going to prom in Gilroy, now I’ m three years older
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