An Teabhar

Explorer Tom Ceann Sibéal was clearly designed by a mother-in-law who wanted everyone to feel uncomfortable on arrival. It has that sharp, pointed attitude that says 'you’re not invited' but is polite enough to let you stay. Perfect detour when the satnav has a meltdown.

Explorer Tom Caisleán Phiarais has a serious grudge against the rain and keeps building new walls just to spite it. It’s like a moody teenager who refuses to share their umbrella with the rest of the county. Stop the car, it's worth the hazard lights.

Explorer Tom Ceann an Dúna is stuck showing off its vertical sandstone cliffs like it’s trying to impress Ferriter's Castle right next door. The map makers clearly got drunk and drew this headland as a giant finger pointing at nothing. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in An Gorta Dubha had a poet fall into a ditch nearby, so it’s forever suspicious of anyone writing things down. The church ruins are low-lying, like they’re trying to hide from the wind. Stand where the owner stood and practise looking smug.

Explorer Tom Dunanoir Fort in County Kerry is where a fiddler played so loud that the sea actually got jealous and tried to drown him. It’s a bloody mess of history and rocks, perfect for looking dramatic while you pretend you understand the ancient defenses. Perfect place to be dramatically windswept.

Explorer Tom Dún an Óir is in a bitter feud with the rain, convinced it’s personally targeting its roof for some reason no one else understands. Perfect spot to practise your best tour-guide voice while pretending you know exactly what's going on.

Explorer Tom Saint Vincent’s in Caherquin had a cow try to buy it with a hoof print on the door. The bank said no, but the cow still thinks it’s the landlord now. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom Binn Diarmada in County Kerry promised the world would end when it sneezed, but it just hiccupped instead. The prophecy is still pending, so keep your umbrellas handy just in case. If it rains, blame me.

Explorer Tom Dunquin Church was once the subject of a bad poem that rhymed 'ruins' with 'funny', which it has never forgiven for. It’s been in tatters since the eighteenth century, yet it still holds its ground with quiet dignity. Make a wish, it's had centuries of practice.

Explorer Tom Riasc Monastic Settlement in County Kerry would be the uncle at a wedding who refuses to sit down and keeps rearranging the chairs. It’s got a lot of opinions on stone placement that nobody asked for. Give it a pat on the way past, it's had a long life.

Explorer Tom Ard na Caithne gives me two names to wrestle with before I even reach the shore. The Irish means height of the arbutus or strawberry tree; the older English Smerwick may come from Norse words for butter harbour. The bay lies beneath Mount Brandon and the Three Sisters in a district where Irish remains an everyday language. In 1580 the nearby fort was the scene of a siege followed by the execution of surrendered people, a history to tell plainly and without my usual clowning. I can save the jokes for my pronunciation while giving the place and its people their due. Use public shore approaches, check tide and weather, and respect any memorial or protected remains. Look across the water toward the mountains. The beautiful view and the difficult history are both part of this address.

Explorer Tom Ionad an Bhlascaoid Mhóir has made a New Year's resolution to stop being so mysterious and just tell people exactly what’s in the vaults without the dramatic fog machine effect. It’s the Blasket Centre, full of stories that are so wild they sound like fiction until you see the actual artifacts on display. Find a local and ask them the real story, then come back and tell me.