I received an amazing and mysterious gift from Elise for Christmas, 2016.

In an envelope looking like it contained a CD—she often creates music for us—was in fact a CD case. I thought perhaps it might even have been the soundtrack to the musical “Hamilton,” to which she had introduced me that spring, and to which I had been immediately drawn. We had been talking about it together constantly. Her students all wanted to perform and were infatuated by the music. Our book club discussed the book, and I was amazed by how it was interpreted in the music. AND by the (largely unrecognized?) influence Hamilton had in the formation of our country.

I thought, “How thoughtful. She got the album for me.” But when I opened the envelope, it was not a CD.

It WAS in fact a CD case, but it was empty. Instead, there was a puzzle, which upon assembly instructed me to open envelope 2.

Therein were TWO TICKETS TO THE BROADWAY PERFORMANCE OF “HAMILTON”! Early in the summer she had scoured the Internet for tickets so we could see it together. What a gift! She was somehow able to keep the secret for over six months, admitting it was difficult to do so.

Thus amazed and gratified, we began to think through how we could make this happen. We planned to spend a week there. Judy would come as well so we could share the trip. We didn’t know until almost the last minute whether Matt could come.

It was decided we would book an Air B&B, with which Elise and Matt had good experience. She found one in Brooklyn which was very reasonably priced. We flew in separately and met at the house. Matt came along later. Judy and I learned how to use Uber to get there, and the adventure began.

Let’s just say this about the word “adventure.” Dictionary.com has these entries:

1. an exciting or very unusual experience.
2. participation in exciting undertakings or enterprises: the spirit of adventure.
3. a bold, usually risky undertaking; hazardous action of uncertain outcome

This trip fit the bill, beginning with the new experience of Uber, and including our “risky” accommodations. The neighborhood was NOT “hood adjacent ” to borrow the phrase from comedian James Davis. Rather, it was squarely “in da ‘hood.” Our landlord advised us that we would be safe as long as we stayed within about three blocks of the train. The house, by the way, was SIX blocks from the train. One Uber driver who dropped us off asked incredulously, “What are YOU folks doing out HERE?”

All told we didn’t have any problems. We even walked home from the subway in the middle of the night—not without concern, and certainly while being vigilant, but also without incident. We were propositioned for drugs, but only once, and had no other uncomfortable encounters.

That out of the way, we learned that Apple Maps’ integration with transit schedules is much easier to navigate than trying to understand the FOUR different apps from the NY transit authority. It effortlessly incorporated trains and ferries; it was accurate about what was running when, what was delayed, and about where to get off for transfers. It was very easy and smooooooooooth.

Matt advised us to get the max weekly pass for the subway, as he had used up his dollar amount card very quickly on a previous trip. Thus equipped, we were off and running. We rode the subway into the city each day, allowing about an hour each way. We walked or took Uber or took a taxi all the while we were there.

(NOTE: Judy was in the throes of plantar fasciitis. It was often [always!] painful for her to walk. But she was a trooper, and went everywhere the group went.)

By the way, Judy also had a surprise for Elise. After describing our planned trip to a friend, and mentioning that she wouldn’t be attending “Hamilton” as Elise only had two tickets, she was challenged to “get her own ticket.” The friend said, “Judy, you’ve got a job. You’re an adult. Get a ticket for yourself.” So she did.

She investigated reputable ticket resellers. Discovering there were basically two to be trusted, she looked at availability. The show is reportedly sold out for years, and ticket prices are astronomically high. It is said, “You have to know somebody if you want to see it.” Fortunately, many people who have tickets have already seen it, or don’t want to see it, or perhaps are lured by the lucre to be had from those who do. What she found was that prices are indeed high, and of the two sites, for the date we were attending, only one site had single tickets available. She purchased the most “affordable” seat. On printing it out, she discovered that her seat was RIGHT NEXT TO OURS! Purchased a year later, it couldn’t have turned out better.

We LOVED the show; we LOVED seeing it together; we LOVED exploring the city together. Judy discovered the citi bike rental stands, and we covered miles together. She wove in and out of traffic, dodging taxis, pedestrians, and trucks; we walked along behind. I was nervous but managed not to say too much (no helmet?!) and she stayed safe each time.

It was a fabulous week. We explored Brooklyn and Manhattan; saw a jazz club in the Village; dashed through the Metropolitan Museum; took ferry rides; even spent an afternoon at the beach in Far Rockaway. We serendipitously stumbled upon Elise’s YouTube idol, Hannah Hart, video blogger turned media magnate, shooting for her upcoming show on the Food Network.

Judy thinks she wants to someday be a New York Cabbie, or Uber driver. She loved racing around and the aggressive driving style.

We went to the “Top of Rock”—30 Rockefeller Center for a nighttime view of Manhattan. We ate street food. We ate deli food. We ate Times Square pizza. We ate Chelsey fine dining, sit down food. We ate groceries from the bodega.

The ferry as extension of mass transit was a new experience for us. It was fun to be on the water; to see the sights; and to get around in the fresh air. Our ride out to Rockaway was very pleasant, and cost almost nothing. Any trip where you can be near–or in Judy’s case, in–the ocean must be counted a success.

It was difficult not to get an earworm whenever we found ourselves on the “A” train. Can you hear it?

And of course, we ventured to Trinity Church, where we saw the graves of Alexander and Eliza Hamilton, as well as Angelica Schuyler.

Theirs was certainly a tragic life. I’m glad it was told so well in the book and the musical. And I’m glad we got to see it firsthand.

We also whipped through the financial district, including the now semi-obligatory stop in front of the Trump Building.

The World Trade Center memorial was striking and moving—and we were thankful there was no terrorist activity while we were there. It’s amazing that that has to be part of our awareness now.

Well, we did New York. We survived 2 AM on the subway. We arrived home safely. We can’t wait to see “Hamilton” again, this time without having to travel quite so far.