We made it! New York City, baby!
It’s Matt’s first time in the Big Apple and technically my second. Although calling my first visit a visit might be a bit generous.
Years ago, I was working in Philadelphia and found myself with a day off. New York was just a hop, skip, and a train ride away, and I figured there was no way I was going to be that close and not see it. So I gave myself about three hours to experience one of the greatest cities in the world.
Three hours.
I raced from landmark to landmark, taking in as much as humanly possible while moving at a pace usually reserved for people being chased. It wasn’t quite a marathon, but I probably should have gotten a medal. I saw the big sights, snapped a few pictures, and disappeared almost as quickly as I’d arrived.
This time, we’re giving New York an entire week. I’m not sure the city is ready for us, but here we are.
We flew in today, made our way to Manhattan, and checked into our hotel, where we were reminded that playing the hotel loyalty game occasionally pays off.
We’ve somehow managed to achieve Platinum status with our hotel chain, which makes us very important people. Not important enough to have someone carry our luggage, mind you, but important enough to score an upgrade to a corner room.
And here’s a little travel secret. When you check into a hotel, it never hurts to mention you’re celebrating something special. Birthdays, anniversaries, whatever the occasion. Hotels love a celebration.
This time, our celebration earned us a complimentary bottle of champagne.
There’s just one small problem.
Neither of us particularly likes champagne.
But it’s FREE champagne, and everyone knows free champagne is an entirely different category of champagne. So there it sits, waiting for us to find an appropriate occasion to drink it. We’ve got seven days. Surely something champagne-worthy will happen between now and Tuesday.
Perhaps surviving the subway.
Or figuring out the subway.
Either would qualify.
With our luggage deposited and our complimentary champagne safely ignored, we headed out to explore.
And HOLY COW.
I’ve been fortunate enough to travel quite a bit. In fact, on the flight here, I started mentally listing all the major American cities I’ve visited and trying to figure out which ones I still wanted to see. I could only name one.
So I’d like to think I’m a fairly seasoned traveler. Sophisticated, even. A man of the world.
Then I stepped onto a New York sidewalk and immediately turned into a country bumpkin who’d just seen electricity for the first time.
The buildings! The lights! The noise! THE PEOPLE!
People came from every direction, moving at every possible speed, all operating under the assumption that wherever they were going was considerably more important than wherever you were going. Cars honking, sirens wailing, delivery bikes weaving through traffic, and pedestrians crossing streets with the sort of confidence normally reserved for people who have already made peace with their mortality.
Traffic signals? Adorable little decorations.
And I couldn’t help thinking about Tokyo.
We were in Japan less than a year ago, and the contrast between these two enormous cities couldn’t be more entertaining.
Tokyo is a masterpiece of organized chaos. Millions of people moving through one of the busiest cities on Earth, yet everything somehow works. People queue politely. Trains arrive precisely when they’re supposed to. Pedestrians actually wait for the little green walking man to tell them it’s safe to cross.
New York?
The little walking man is apparently more of a consultant whose recommendations are routinely ignored.
In Japan, we managed to navigate an incredibly complex transportation system despite not being able to read half the signs. Here, everything is written in English, and somehow we’re less certain where we’re going.
Tokyo feels like a beautifully choreographed ballet involving millions of people.
New York feels like somebody yelled “GO!” and everyone took off in a different direction.
And the remarkable thing is, both cities are absolutely fascinating.
We wandered through Midtown, doing our best to look like we belonged, although my constant upward gawking probably gave us away. Eventually, we found ourselves in Times Square.
Now, I’ve seen Times Square on television approximately a million times. New Year’s Eve, movies, news reports, all of it. But standing there in person is an entirely different experience.
It’s like someone took every television, billboard, neon sign, and flashing light in America, crammed them into a few city blocks, turned the brightness up to eleven, and invited the entire population of Nebraska to come stand underneath them.
It’s completely ridiculous.
And absolutely spectacular.
There we stood, two guys from a little town in Washington, surrounded by skyscrapers, glowing advertisements, honking taxis, street performers, and a sea of humanity that seemed to stretch forever.
I kept looking up, turning around, and looking up again. I’m fairly certain I spent half the evening with my mouth hanging open. Not exactly the sophisticated world traveler image I was hoping to project.
Eventually, hunger won out over sensory overload, and we wandered over to Hell’s Kitchen, where we discovered Empanada Mama and enjoyed some excellent empanadas.
Now, Matt is approaching this trip with the seriousness of a man who has been given seven days to personally inspect the entire New York City food industry.
Pizza. Bagels. Delis. Hot dogs. Cheesecake. And anything else that looks remotely edible.
Fortunately, I came prepared.
While other travelers pack sensible things like extra socks, comfortable shoes, and emergency phone chargers, I packed an entire bag of Tums for Matt.
Not a little travel-sized roll.
A BAG.
Because I know my husband, I know his ambitions, and I know that at some point this week, his stomach is going to file a formal complaint.
Love is many things. Sometimes it’s remembering the antacids.
And judging by our first dinner, those Tums may turn out to be the most valuable thing in our luggage.
And that was our first evening. No grand itinerary, no mad dash to check off attractions. Just walking, looking, eating, and soaking it all in.
There’s something wonderfully humbling about arriving in a city like New York. No matter how many places you’ve traveled, how many countries you’ve visited, or how worldly you think you’ve become, this place has a way of reminding you that there’s still plenty out there capable of leaving you wide-eyed and speechless.
It’s loud. It’s crowded. It’s chaotic. It’s unapologetically excessive.
And I think I’m going to love it.
We’ve got a full week ahead of us, and I’m hoping to share a little of each day’s adventures here. There will be famous sights, interesting neighborhoods, great food, probably some wrong turns, and undoubtedly a few stories that will be considerably funnier in hindsight.
For now, we’ve survived our first evening in Manhattan, eaten well, and managed not to get flattened by a taxi.
By New York standards, I believe that qualifies as a resounding success.
And somewhere upstairs in our corner room, a bottle of champagne waits patiently for two people who would probably rather have a beer.
Day One in the books. Seven more days to see what this crazy city has in store for us!