When I moved to Buffalo, my mom gave me a gift that—at the time—I didn’t fully understand the weight of: an Explore Buffalo Explorer Pass.
It felt thoughtful, yes, but I didn’t realize it would become one of the most grounding, joyful parts of settling into a new city.
Explore Buffalo® is a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping people discover Buffalo’s architecture, history, and neighborhoods through walking and bike tours led by incredibly knowledgeable volunteer guides.
Their mission is simple but powerful: to create a community that’s engaged in and connected to the place they live. And after just a few months of using my Explorer Pass, I can say with certainty—it works.
The Explorer Pass gives you unlimited access to tours for an entire year. One tour a week, every week, if you want. And what I love most about that is how low-pressure it feels. There’s no “you must see everything right now” energy.
Instead, it’s an open invitation to keep showing up, slowly, and let the city reveal itself over time.
Since getting the pass, I’ve already taken several tours:
– a mob tour downtown
– Buffalo Scandals
– multiple murals tours (downtown and Hertel)
– Landmark Lobbies (both downtown north and south)
– and the Buffalo City Hall tour
Each one has taught me something different—not just about buildings or dates, but about how this city became what it is.
I’ve never really been a “history person.” Big timelines and distant eras have always been hard for me to grasp. But learning history in the context of where you’re standing—looking at the building, the street, the details you’d otherwise walk right past—changes everything. It makes history tangible. Personal. Almost intimate.
Some of the stories have genuinely shocked me. On the mob tour, I learned about a local mob boss who managed to get out of attending a trial after allegedly convincing a doctor to lie about his health. That kind of detail sticks with you—not because it’s sensational, but because it reframes what you thought you knew about power, influence, and this region’s role in larger national stories.
Other moments have been quieter but just as impactful. On several tours, I started noticing how many buildings downtown are constructed with marble—not just floors, but walls, staircases, even railings. Marble! It’s a relatively soft material, and yet these buildings are still standing, still stunning, with remarkably minimal upkeep. It’s a testament to both craftsmanship and the city’s deep commitment to preservation. Buffalo didn’t just get lucky—it chose to protect what it had.
During the (north) Landmark Lobbies tour, we stopped inside the WNY Book Arts Center and ventured to the basement. To my surprise, there was a printing press. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen one in-person, but I felt so much emotion seeing it! So much of how writing is taught (from a journalistic perspective) is based on those presses, and it was so cool to see.
Along the way, I’ve learned about Buffalo’s role in mob culture, its relationships with sister cities, its long-standing appreciation for art and creativity, and how preservation has shaped the city’s identity for centuries. More than anything, I’ve learned that having a sense of place—really understanding where you are—makes it so much easier to feel at home.
There’s also a social aspect I didn’t fully expect. Tours are a natural way to be around people without pressure. You’re learning together. Walking together. Occasionally laughing at the same surprising fact. For anyone new to a city—or even someone who’s lived in one forever—that kind of shared experience is invaluable.
I keep thinking how incredible the Explorer Pass is as a gift. Not just in Buffalo, but anywhere. Helping someone explore their new city isn’t just thoughtful—it’s empowering. It says: go learn where you are, at your own pace. And that’s a gift that keeps unfolding.
I’m so grateful to Explore Buffalo, to the volunteer guides who somehow seem to know everything, and to the version of myself that keeps saying yes to showing up and learning more. I didn’t expect history to help me feel more connected—but here we are.
And honestly? I can’t wait for the next tour.
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