The idea had percolated for years:  what my wife and I wanted to do once the kids were grown and we had the freedom, both time-wise and financially, to go/do/see whatever we wanted, wherever we wanted, for however long we wanted.  In a nutshell, we would pick places to go and stay for an extended period, experiencing them like locals rather than as tourists.  The plan became known jokingly as our “semester abroad,” because why should the college kids get to have all the fun?  

We had just returned from our first such semester abroad, a five week excursion to New York City, when I realized that our little experiment had set a dangerous precedent:  It had been everything we hoped it would be.  This one was going to be hard to beat. 

The scene was set after work for me became more flexible and she took an early retirement.  We settled on New York City because our daughters were living there and we both had college friends there.  Safety in numbers.  We were adventurous but a little cautious as neither of us wanted to be looking at the other after a week or two thinking, “I’m stuck with just YOU for the rest of this trip?”

After scouring Airbnb for months looking for just the right place in just the right location, we ended up renting a tidy one bedroom in a fourth floor walkup—the walkup being better for exercise, we reasoned—then complained about every single time we began the climb.  Note to self:  Plan before exiting the apartment—you don’t want to have to scamper back up for a phone or wallet or umbrella.  Second note to self:  Climbing up four flights of stairs while full from dinner, or drunk (or both), or in need of a bathroom is just a mind-over-matter exercise.  As per Nike—you’ve got to Just Do It.  Our calves were stronger by the end, and we came to accept the trek, but it was never quite agreeable just for exercise’s sake.

So, as the saying goes:  location, location, location!  Our apartment was in the West Village, on Jane Street, just down a block from…everything.  A corner bar aptly named the Corner Bistro, a go-to tavern, a greasy spoon, a pastry store, a sandwich shop, great (and greater) Italian, French, and Mediterranean restaurants, etc.  It was all there, just a block away.  And beyond that, more and more and more. It was overwhelming.  How were we going to figure out where to eat first?

And that’s where our plan kicked in.  After four or five days, the world slowed down, we started to get our bearings, and things began to feel…normal.  This wasn’t about having to fit everything in during a short trip.  It was just about living life.

My routine was set each morning by work obligations, making calls and emailing while enjoying our “wonderful” view out of the apartment—looking at the back of the adjoining apartment building.  Her mornings were a bit more fun, seeking out pickleball courts and people to play with, walking with friends on the Hudson River Park, browsing unique off-the-beaten-path shops.   Late morning she’d return to the apartment and I’d finish up work, then we rolled.  Our afternoons were spent together, exploring the city, walking, walking, walking.  The only time we took the subway was to go to the far reaches of Brooklyn or the Upper West Side to visit friends.

We were not entirely unlike tourists—we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, went to Central Park, visited the 9/11 memorial and the Oculus, saw a show, and ate pastrami at Katz’s.  But we also just did what New Yorkers do:  we went to the museums, walked and shopped Soho, went to Hudson Yards (like, what’s the big deal?), walked on the Highline and the Hudson River Park,  went to the piers and the Little Island, and browsed the art galleries in Chelsea.  On a gorgeous, warm October afternoon we rented bicycles and rode along the Hudson River Park all the way to the Little Red Lighthouse at the George Washington Bridge and back.  We walked around Brooklyn and took a ferry boat back to Manhattan, we browsed the weekend farmers market in Union Square as well as the Holiday markets there and in Bryant Park.  We walked up Fifth Avenue to Rockefeller Center, then over to Times Square and walked back down Sixth (multiple times), up Madison Avenue from Union Square to Grand Central Station, along Bleeker to Sullivan to Prince.  We browsed the Artists and Fleas in Chelsea Market and Eataly Flatiron (wait—is that a New Yorker or a tourist thing to do?).

Some observations:  The Subway—it is very efficient and easy to use and if you use it with Google Maps you’ll be set; Temperature in October/November—45-65 degrees is relatively the same:  cold is cold in the shade and not so cold in the sun.  Wear layers and be ready to peel off and re-dress;  Romance—any streetcorner is a romantic spot for a kiss, and if you do it, no one will pay the slightest bit of attention to you. Same with arguing;  Italian restaurants—it is ridiculous how many there are and how the cuisine has leeched into all restaurants it seems, as every one has some form of cavatelli and Bolognese; Burgers (and fries)—literally (almost) every restaurant has a great burger and great fries.  *Note:  Mary’s Fish Camp has the best fries as they are thin and almost like potato sticks and they serve them in a huge pile and…yum!; Reservations—to get into the places you can’t get into no matter how early you wake up to be the first to try to snag a Resy or Opentable reservation:  1)  Go early and put your name on the list when they open as most have a walk-in seating list (Don Angie); 2) Actually go to the restaurant days in advance and talk to the manager (begging is acceptable); 3)  Go early and nab seats at the bar;  or 4)  suck it up and get in the line at Via Carota at 4:00 and be ready to eat your meal at 5:00 (or 11:00);  A “cheap” meal in New York is never really cheap.

After that first few days, the time went by faster and faster, and we could hardly believe when the last week arrived.  We went back to some places/sites we wanted to visit one more time, we finally tried the last of the food we had missed, and we started to pack up our belongings.  When we walked out of our little New York apartment (and walked/struggled down the four flights with our luggage in tow) we did so with mixed feelings of satisfaction for having checked that item off our list and sadness for what was probably a one-off “semester” in Manhattan.  Just when we started to feel a part of it, New York, New York was over and we were heading back home.

We came and we conquered—kind of—leaving in better shape walking-wise, a little (actually, a lot) lighter in the wallet, our appetites and liquor yearnings satiated, having learned a few lessons for future Semesters Abroad along the way:  It was a benefit to have our daughters and friends nearby (and to have friends come in for a visit);  a comfortable pair of shoes (or two) was a must;  never walk and text (beware of those who don’t clean up after their dogs).

Final Grade:  I would give this inaugural Semester Abroad: New York City an A+