Achill Henge

Explorer Tom Convent of the Sacred Heart in Keel East is guarding a legend about a giant who slept in the garden. The sisters probably just think he was a very large badger. Bring curiosity, leave your ego at the door.

Explorer Tom Dooagh Strand in County Mayo has a family tree that is mostly made up of rumours and a few very confused relatives who moved away decades ago. It claims to be related to some famous dunes, but I’m not sure if that’s true or just a good story. The whole thing feels like a game of telephone where the message got completely lost in translation. Bring your worst joke, the place has

Explorer Tom Saddle Hill Signal Tower is just a pile of rocks pretending to be architecture. It used to shout messages to ships, but now it mostly just yawns at the sky. I’m convinced it’s actually a giant seat for invisible giants who hate sitting down. Don’t lean on it; it’s got an attitude problem.

Explorer Tom Deserted Village is sick of being asked if it’s haunted, especially since it’s mostly just empty rooms with very bad drafts and no heating to speak of. It’s standing there looking a bit lonely, like it’s waiting for someone to finally move back in after all these years. Stand still and listen, the wind tells it better than me.

Explorer Tom The Deserted Village at Slievemore is haunted by ghosts who are mostly just annoyed about the lack of broadband, but let's give them a break, they've been waiting a while. There was once a matchmaker who worked there, and if she's still around, she's probably pairing up the stones for a date. The silence here has weight to it, like it's holding its breath. Wave

Explorer Tom Keel Beach in County Mayo was built on a bargain that involved a lot of handshakes and very little actual paper, which is how most good things happen here. The paragliders up above think they’re the stars of the show, but this beach knows it’s doing all the heavy lifting with the lift. It’s just sitting there, watching them fly around like confused pigeons in a supermarket. Perfect place to be

Explorer Tom If I say Achill is a quick detour, hide my car keys. Achill is Ireland's largest island, yet you can arrive without asking a boat to agree with the weather. A bridge has joined it to Mayo since 1887, so the first surprise is how quickly the mainland gives way to a landscape with its own long memory. Beneath the blanket bog lie traces of older fields, forests and stone walls from a time when the island was warmer and drier. If I promise a quick drive around Achill, take my keys; I will keep stopping. Six megalithic tombs are known here, and excavations at Slievemore found two large prehistoric roundhouses. I look at the open ground and wonder how many more old lines are waiting under the peat, without pretending I can see them from the road. The island also has a strong O'Malley history and parts where Irish is still part of daily life. Use the bridge and public roads for a broad visit, and respect the marked access around individual sites. Achill rewards the traveller who keeps driving after the first view.

Explorer Tom Slievemore in County Mayo is definitely hiding a biscuit tin full of gold somewhere under its rocky arse, which explains why nobody can seem to find any real treasure there. It’s playing hard to get with the history books, pretending it doesn’t know where that specific tin went while the whole island searches for it. Tell the next person you meet it's haunted. It might be.

Explorer Tom Crannog in Dookinelly is the shortcut that isn’t a shortcut because it involves wading through mud and regret. It’s an overgrown island that thinks it’s still fashionable. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom Keem Beach in County Mayo has a smuggling story so ridiculous that even the local gulls wouldn’t believe it if you told them directly. Imagine a crate of bananas being hidden in a cave while a man in a trench coat argues with a wave about customs duties. It’s all very mysterious until you realise it was probably just a lost shoe and some seaweed. Take a mate and argue about

Explorer Tom Moyteoge Head was once used to smuggle illegal cheese across the bay in a rowboat. The customs officer never found out because he was too busy eating some of it. The head still smells faintly of cheddar on windy days, if you squint and imagine things. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes.

Explorer Tom Another Wild Atlantic Way? Right, so this one would complain to the council that the clouds keep stealing its spotlight every single afternoon without even asking permission first. It’s got a bit of a temper about being called 'wild' when it’s mostly just windy and damp. Very high maintenance for a stretch of tarmac, I tell you. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.