The day after Easter is actually a bank holiday here in Ireland, so it’s actually quite sleepy on both Easter Sunday and the Monday after. Cork, being Ireland’s second biggest cities, has gone through a dramatic change in the last decade or so due to the country’s prosperity.

The city is home to the country’s first and second tallest buildings, and new construction and shopping centers can be seen all over. At its height, it was common for most people to own at least two houses and to average at least two foreign holidays a year. Now, like in the U.S. and much of the rest of the world, things are a little tough, but given what I’ve seen while here, it’s unlikely the hard times will last long.

My final day in Cork was spent cramming in a little time walking around the city before hopping back on the bus for the 4 1/2 trip to Dublin where I’d be catching my flight home the next morning. The entire downtown is very walkable and looks like it’s been completely redone in the last few years. Despite this, you can still find some great old alleyways containing some classic bars and unique mom-and-pop shops (presumably which are open during the day, unlike today).

For some reason I really liked the look of the sign. The grittiness almost makes the sign look better. Sorry Limerick, another time. It’s such a tease being here and not getting the chance to see the rest of the country. I can’t wait to come back and explore all of the sights along the western coast as well as the storied villages in county Cork, Clare, Limerick and Galway; oh yeah, there’s also Northern Ireland too; and I didn’t even have a chance to catch any video of herds of sheep crossing the road . . .

And goodbye to the Emerald Isle. Not my best out-the-window shot, but the colors say it all. Good think I threw a coin over my shoulder in the waterfall at the Guinness Storehouse. That means I’m destined to return, right? Or am I getting that confused with somewhere else?

Cork is just a short 4 1/2 hour bus ride southeast from Dublin, and buses leave on the hour on most days. As most people say, some of the best of Ireland is seen outside of the main cities, and a trip overland can offer some amazing views. Of course, like most trips, I’m reminded how I wish I had more time to spend visiting the rest of the country, but at least seeing some or part of somewhere is better than seeing nothing at all.

After arriving, my brother-in-law’s father’s cousin’s husband (first cousin once removed in-law if you’re keeping score) picked me up at the bus station and took me to his home where I had Easter dinner with their three daughters (brother-in-law’s second cousins) and their young families.

After a hearty meal, the ladies and the children retired to the parlor while us men goatherd up our things and headed down to the corner bar to watch the Harlequins v. Leinster rugby match in the Heineken Cup quarter-final.

But Matt, you may ask, you have very little idea what Rugby is, let alone the rules or how to play it. Matt, do you even know what or where a Harlequin is? Umm . . . No worries, I was able to learn the rules pretty quickly, and I was even able to pick up some insight into the game, such as how there are such things as “blood substitutions” (a substitution when an torrent of blood gushes from one’s nose) and how most players, though looking like they’re one pint away from mugging you, are actually very learned professionals, hailing from such trades as medicine, law and banking. I can think of a few lawyers myself who I’d like to see put on the field for a pummeling.

After a little dessert I said goodbye and headed to my couchsurfing friend’s house near Cork University. The following is the conversation that I remember after arriving:

Matt: Hi, good to meet you. Thanks for letting me stay at your place.

Host: It’s no problem, let me show you your room.

The two enter a room.

Matt: Great, you don’t mind if I lay down a bit, I’m feeling a bit under the weather.

Host: No problem.

14 hours later.

Host: Well I’m off to study, it was good to meet you.

Matt: (sleeping) Yes, thanks again and you’re welcome to come to New York anytime.

(Host exits, sleep continues)

The trick is that they add the tomato, thus making the traditional Irish breakfast especially healthy. Complete with most animals in existence in the Western hemisphere, this artery-clogging conglomeration sticks with you the rest of the day, making lunch an especially tough endeavor. Notice the black and white pudding up top. I’m still not sure what’s inside of these, and I’m not sure why they’re called pudding, but I do know they’re best eaten with BBQ sauce and thus adds to the confusion as to what exactly is breakfasty about this meal.

After the lively night in, a group of us headed out for the above breakfast then walked south to a graffiti festival our friend from the hostel, Rene, had tipped us off about.

There’s probably no better indication of “New Dublin” then this: a graffiti show, full of autograph seekers, a breakdancing competition, and a live D.J. We spent a good two hours checking out the events and meeting the artists. Two of the guys were from NYC too and I tipped them off to some good walls in my neighborhood that were, how should say, ready for improvement.

Painters from all around the world came to Dublin for this, the first of four shows this summer. Following this festival the painters were off to Belfast that onto the Continent for shows in Copenhagen, Paris and Marseilles.

Things may have been a little slow on dry Good Friday, but that only means everyone was even more ready to head out enjoy the night in Dublin’s Temple Bar district. A little crowded, a little touristy, it’s probably best to grab a drink or two here then move on to some of the other venues south from the district. Which is exactly what we did after grabbing some Absinthe (bad idea) at the Czech Inn, then heading south on South Great George’s Street to Globe, a club/bar that (for Easter?) was projecting Ben Hur on the back wall (I guess if you were on a bad date it provides a little entertainment).

I have to admit, this was my first foray into the world of Absinthe, but I’m pretty sure you’re allowed to blame all your ills the day after on it, which is exactly what I’m attributing this head cold that I’ve come down with on. Being here in Dublin, I’ll quote Dublin’s own Oscar Wilde: “After the first glass, you see things as you wish they were. After the second, you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.”

I somehow have this uncanny ability to travel to places during the wrong holiday. Sweden during Midsummer, Good Friday in Dublin. From what I’ve seen, the only things open tonight are a shawarma restaurant and the internet cafe where I’m typing right now. Very odd for Friday night in Dublin.

But what turned out be a downer was actually a blessing in disguise. My hostel had the foresight to stock up on beverages and hire a traditional Irish band to perform, which actually turned out be something that was probably more fun than what most people would experience out on a typical Friday night in Dublin. The amazing performers quickly had everyone clapping along, dancing in the center of the room, and singing along (surprisingly fun even when you don’t know the lyrics!).

Side-thought: I really need to learn to blog pre-festivities. Thank god for spell checker.

What better meal for the day after than fish and, er, salad (a healthy twist on a fattening classic)? This was actually the second meal of the day, breakfast being a mixed berry scone (my third of this trip), which the Irish, to my surprise, have seemed to completely master the art of creating. Who knew the scone contained such insights into the meaning of life?

After another fitful night of trying to catch up on some z’s (surprise, it’s hard to get a full night sleep in a hostel), I decided to take a nice non-walking trip north to Malahide Castle.

In use for about 800 years, the castle was just opened up to the public in 1976. After arriving I promptly became detached from my group (unintentional, but probably unconsciously intentional) while I was taking video outside. No worries, I just wandered the castle myself until an irate guard asked what I was doing and who I was with. After attempting to explain who I was and my position with the TheExpeditioner.com, the annoyed and confused guard quickly escorted me to the rest of the group and instructed me not to wander any longer.

On the drive back to Dulbin, we wove our way along the northern coastline and stopped at what is considered to be one of the best views of this part of the Irish coast.

Believe it or not, that spit of land in the foreground is home to Bono and The Edge (this I learned after being told that the neighborhood we had just driven through was home to Larry Mullen — it seems most of Dublin can be described in reference to U2). This is one of those views where I think I should drop everything and go into postcard making.

It only takes a few minute strolling around the infamous (but alas, touristy) Temple Bar district at night to make you want to head south to Wexford Street to grab that evening pint. I headed out with a Dubliner, Ciara, who led the way to where the Dubliners go, our stop being Whelans for some live music. This guitarist played an acoustic set overlayed with loops from his own songs as he played while a packed bar below made sure the night was lived to its fullest before dry Good Friday came and took all the fun away.

Anaheim = Disneyland. Dublin = Guinness Storehouse. Here I am trying some of Ireland’s black gold in the Gravity Bar, a rooftop, 360-degree view of Dublin bar that sits on top of the Guinness Storehouse (from a distance the building is a pint, the bar being the head).

I missed out on the tour due to a morning stop at the Queen of Tarts, one of Dublin’s best breakfast joints. There’s a quiet rumor going around that they have the best scones in Dublin, which if you’ve ever spent time here, that’s saying alot. Forget the brick-like, tasteless, bland scones made in the U.S., these scones are flavorful, doughy, imaginative breakfast creations that will have you skipping cereal or the traditional Irish breakfast on most mornings. Served with tasty Irish butter or jam, there are a surprisingly wide variety of scones: currant, lemon, whole wheat, mixed berry, cranberry, gingerbread, chocolate (am I getting a little too Forrest Gump here?).

The Guinness Storehouse is only about a twenty minute walk from the center of Dublin, and 15 euros later you’re inside the city’s most popular destination. A little light on learning and a little heavy on theatrics (to make Porter you need beer — cue giant waterfall), the tour is a multi-story hike up a building in the shape of a pint glass, culminating in the aforesaid Gravity Bar.

On the way out I stumbled (quite literally) upon a sign that said “Library.” A Guinness library, this I’ll have to check out, I thought to myself. After wandering the small room a bit, I ran into (okay it was a small room — we simply saw each other when she walked in) an archivist who agreed to do an interview for the video. She told me about the need for an archivist here (there’s alot of important employee records stored in the brewery) and gave me some interesting facts about the history of the plant (preview for the upcoming video: Arthur Guinness was Ireland’s Bill Gates of the 18th century).

Dublin had an amazing full moon that night. I wandered around the manicured grounds of Trinity College around dusk. I think about half the campus was sitting outside, enjoying the weather and having a drink on the campus’s giant sports field. I think I saw cricket being practiced, but I’m not sure I’d recognize it even being played let alone practiced.

Afterward I caught a glimpse of this impressive moon while standing at Nassau and Dawson Street, just south of Trinity College. I thought of two movies as I stood there: Moonstruck and An American Tail. I have no idea the last time I even thought about the latter, but I’m thinking it was a very long time ago.

Mental note: In the future, do not eat two large bowls of a high-fiber breakfast cereal the morning of a long flight, it does not make for a comfortable trip.

I left drizzly, grey New York City to arrive in sunny, balmy Dublin! Who would’ve thunk it? The first thing you notice upon entering the city is the never ending series of cranes that dot the skyline as you approach, a reflection of the incredible economic boom the country has experienced over the past decade.

As most people point out, Dublin is an extremely walkable city, with most of the main sights within about 20 minutes of each other by foot (it helps that many streets are pedestrian-only). I kept thinking how sleepy a town Dublin is as I wandered around, then I looked at the clock and realized I was sightseeing at 7:30 in the morning. This would also account for the lack of traffic, open stores and daylight.

Since I couldn’t check-in until 2, I spent the morning fitting in some of the outdoor sights while the weather was cooperating, including St. Patrick’s Cathedral and corresponding park (supposedly the sight of a well that the Saint himself used to baptize newly converted Christians, but now boarded up and unmarked due to the British a few years back — a fact given to me by an Irishman that approached me as I was filming), St. Stephen’s Green and Grafton Street.

Given the fact that I caught maybe a half-hour of sleep on the plane, I kind of felt like Al Pacino’s character at the end of “Insomnia” where everything around him appears to be moving in slow motion and his motor skills have been reduced to the level of a drunk elephant. I’m pretty sure that during the rest of the day I took some video, and I’m pretty sure I found myself trying to revive myself at a tea shop where I sat amongst about 10 old ladies out for afternoon tea.

Tomorrow (Thursday) will be a busy day. I’m going to try to catch a 1916 Easter Rising walking tour in the morning, followed by a visit to the Guinness Storehouse, a stop at the Jameson Distillery, an interview with a representative from the Dublin Tourism Office for my video (should be interesting following the previous two stops), and finally a night out in the famed city nightlife. Now back to the hostel to catch 12 or so hours of much-needed sleep in preparation . . .

Here’s a picture of my travel gear before packing (a new personal travel tradition). Notice the lack of summer clothes but the inclusion of sunglasses (I’m an optimist).

The good news is that the weather in Ireland seems to be leaning in my favor as of this afternoon’s most recent forecast. The bad news is that I have absolutely no time to elaborate much in this pre-trip post (and, curiously enough, I’m already experiencing jet lag and I haven’t even gotten to the airport yet).

I’m psyched to get going. I’ve been sans travel for 4 months now, and I’m not sure how much longer I would’ve been able to hold out (thanks trans-Atlantic air fare war!). The itinerary so far is Dublin from Wednesday through Saturday, then to Cork via a 4 1/2 hour bus ride on Saturday, then on to somewhere else Sunday or Monday (Galway? Limerick? the middle of County Sligo? TBD). I’ve lined up some meetup with some locals from around the country, including a little Q&A with the Dublin Tourism Board on Thursday. First question: Do you have any pull in asking U2 to stop making records? Second question: What can we do about this US Dollar/Euro exchange rate?

I arrive tommorrow morning, so expect posts beginning late tomorrow afternoon and thereafter.