So, what would YOU do on your first day in NYC? Would you get up, race to the first big attraction, and take millions of photos? Would you go on a bus tour and see the city? Would you go for a long walk in the baking sun with the humidity about 1000% and inflict a PTSD episode on The-Youngest?

We chose the latter—not by plan, but that’s just kind of how the day worked out. We actually planned to get used to the city and see the Fourth of July fireworks in the evening—nothing fancy, nothing too taxing.

So, it wasn’t until about noon that we got up and going. The boys were just exhausted, which was odd since I thought it would be the parents who would be struggling to get up.

First on our list: figure out the subway. I have to say that when my brother and I went, I never quite got a handle on it. Oh sure, I could get on a subway car but our challenge was getting on the right one. I think we almost ended up in Florida one time.

With The-Youngest leading the way, and The-Oldest shouting warnings to everyone whenever I stopped to take a picture of a plant, a brownstone building or the inside of my pocket, we made it to the subway station without any problem. The-Youngest even managed to find the right entrance to the right train going in the right direction. He accomplished this by “reading the signs, dude.”

However, our first challenge came when we went to buy weekly passes. Being me, I asked the lovely attendant “I’m sorry, but what would be the best choice for Canadians who were here for ten days and didn’t know a thing about NYC or the subway or why is it so hot down here?” As a Canadian, it’s always important to start any question with ‘I’m sorry.”

She told us to buy a weekly pass. She told us to use the machine behind us. She told us the steps we would need to take.

Once upon a time and long ago, I used to be good with computer-like machines but now I get confused if someone buys me a new TV remote. So, I completely failed to get a weekly ticket. I failed so many times that the nice lady came out of the booth and took us step by step through the process.

“Ok, honey, insert your card.”

Me: “Done.”

“Ok, choose your ticket, no not that one, honey, the weekly one, that’s right, you got it, now choose what card you’re going to pay with, no, hmm, that doesn’t seem to be working, but, no, don’t hit cancel, ok, ah, let’s start again…”

So, wow, she was so nice and unbelievably patient. (and as I was later to find out, like most of the New Yorkers who are also super kind and friendly). She never did get my card to work, though, so at least part of the problem was not me being the old, confused guy.

With our tickets in hand, we braved the turnstile. Nearly all of us made it through with any problems, but it took The-Oldest a few tries to get his card to scan properly.

Sweating from the heat INSIDE the subway, we found the platform and got on the first train (the right one, because I wasn’t navigating, The-Youngest was). Since it was a holiday, there were few people on it. We found seats. The AC kept us cool. And not once did someone come up to us to ask for change, ask if our lives were good without God or ask for my wallet.

The stops whizzed by, all with distinct tiles, brickwork or murals. If I go back to New York City, I think I’ll spend a day on the subway stopping at all the stops and taking pictures of all the neat art there.

We climbed out of the subway in Times Square. Everyone but me hated it. “Too loud.” “Too crowded.” “Too hot.” All valid points but I loved the whacky, crazy energy there. However, we hadn’t eaten so we marched on to find a place to eat.

Now, we had vowed not to eat in a chain restaurant and there aren’t a lot of locally run places to eat near Times Square (that we could find, anyway.) We ended up at a rib house that we thought was a NYC local joint.

Sadly, it was not – it was a chain filled with tourists, but it had food and air conditioning. After stomping around in 97-degree heat, and 200% humidity, AC had become as vital to our existence as oxygen or our iPhones.

Worse, being a chain restaurant, it brought back bad memories for The-Youngest who worked in such a place (Montana’s if anyone cares). He wasn’t treated well at his first job, and the experience nearly spoiled his growing love of cooking.

The food was ok, but pricy, and The-Youngest kept up an ongoing rant about what they did wrong preparing the plate, making the food, using commercial sauces instead of homemade, and, ‘there was no way this was smoked in the backroom smoker.”

He was visibly upset. He wanted to leave as fast as we could, so we ate fast and left fast.

Then, for some strange reason, we decided to walk around and see what we saw. You know, like tourists without a plan.

The-Youngest had a rough idea of going to see the building in Suits, so that’s where we headed. Along the way, we saw Broadway, an old synagogue (the Manhattan Central Synagogue), and a few super tall buildings (oh, who are we kidding, there were super tall buildings everywhere!) and I went crazy taking pictures of modern architecture, old architecture, skyscrapers, windows full of jewelry, old-fashioned mail-drops and one building that had windows that looked like the stern of a ship (the navigation guild building).

Oh, I loved it. What an incredible city. We saw churches, fountains, actual art attached to building walls, and entrances to hotels that looked like they were gilded in gold.

But the heat and humidity took it out of us step-by-step. By 3, we decided enough was enough. We made our way back to Times Square via Grand Central Station. What a place Grand Central was. It had a ceiling like a starry sky, grand windows, marble floors, AC, brass railings, stone pillars, golden chandeliers, AC, and large screens filled with a thousand places to go. And AC.

It was a moving, breathing hub of humanity.

But we didn’t stay long. We needed to get home. Our feet were sore, we were all sweaty and sticky and at least one of us needed a nap.

On our first day, despite our best intentions, we had done too much.

I feared the sun drained the fun out of the day and we wouldn’t have the umph to go out and see the fireworks.

Would we recover?