There’s something about firsts.

And Santo Domingo, the oldest city of the Americas, boasts many.

In the Dominican capital for the first time, I sat in the courtyard of an apartment complex, listening as the neighbors relayed a long list of must-sees: among them, the first street, military fortress and cathedral of the New World.

Lucky for me, my friend (and Dominican native) Alex knew where to go and what to do. We only had a long weekend, and had been en route to the car when his neighbors’ chatter led us to peek in for a quick hello.

Thanks to Columbus & Co., every step here tells a story – one my new friends were only too happy to share. Their pride was palpable. After all, whether you’re North, Central or South American, this is where it began for all of us.

Being that I love a good story, I was hooked.

We set out for the Colonial District the next morning.

We began, appropriately, on the city’s first roadway, Calle las Damas, or Ladies Street. It was so named, the story goes, because the wife of Diego Columbus (Christopher’s son) liked to take afternoon walks there with her ladies-in-waiting. During our stroll, I took in the stone buildings with long, wooden doors, the old-fashioned light poles and the ceramic street signs with bright-blue trim. A pair of horse-drawn buggies completed the picture.

Heading west along this promenade, we hit the Parque Colon. The traditional square, whose design was brought over from the Old World and later duplicated throughout the Americas, remains a gathering place for tourists and vendors, festivals and nightlife.

Because Old World charm mixes with the new, across from the rows of benches and patches of green was a Hard Rock Cafe (as jarring to me as that time I spotted a Starbucks in Stratford-upon-Avon, mere steps from Shakespeare’s birthplace). But stand at the plaza long enough and you can almost envision how the rest of the city came to life and grew around it.

Of course, Christopher Columbus is still there, in the middle of it all, covered in pigeons, like all good statues.

Spotting the imposing Catedral Primada de America up ahead, I raced toward the entrance, barely registering the man trying to stop me.

“She can’t go in like that,” he said, gesturing to Alex. That’s when I remembered the no-bare-shoulders rule that had almost prevented me from seeing several important European cathedrals, too.

As a sign of respect, you don’t wear tank tops or shorts. But before I could walk away dejected, the man wielded a yellow shawl and let me through, not without first giving me a stern reminder that I had to keep covered at all times.

The cathedral, by all accounts, took so long to build in the early 1500s that it required many architects. As a result, the completely contrasting styles, including Roman, Renaissance and gothic, are apparent. I examined the plaques, altar pieces and small chapels inside, and tried to take pictures without releasing my tight hold on the shawl.

Next stop was the nearby Panteon Nacional, which started out a Jesuit church but is now, after several incarnations, the resting place for some of the island’s most distinguished public figures. A tour guide solemnly identified each person as we walked past rows of flags and marble-lined tombs. He spoke of Concepcion Bona, who helped design the Dominican flag (the only one to feature an open Bible, he said); and of Emilio Prud’homme and Jose Reyes, credited with creating the national anthem.

Spanish dictator Francisco Franco donated the copper chandelier, and iron grills near the ceiling may have been a gift from the German government.

“Excuse me, do you speak French?” The question, asked in perfect English, caught us off-guard. We heard it a couple more times before realizing that the clusters of teens who kept coming up to us were obviously on a citywide scavenger hunt.

I quickly returned to the past, though, at the Fortress of Santo Domingo, with its cannons pointing to the brown-bottomed Ozama River and some long-ago enemy sailing up to shore. Christopher Columbus’ relatives lived close by, in a boxy, two-story building known as the Alcazar de Colon.