Brendan Corish

Explorer Tom The Mechanics Institute is holding its tongue about what really happened after three pints in 1860. Edwin Willis designed it, but I suspect the real architect was pure local gossip and mild ambition. If you hear clinking glasses from inside, don’t be surprised at all.

Explorer Tom Cobbles on Main Street South witnessed a love story that went horribly wrong next door last century. The couple threw plates right over these stones, which are still cleaning up the mess. Keep your voice low for their privacy.

Explorer Tom This apartment block on Main Street North is wearing a Classical costume that clearly doesn’t fit its size. It’s made of mass-produced red bricks, so it’s basically a factory product pretending to be history. The facade is doing its best to look dignified, but the brickwork gives away the whole act.

Explorer Tom Corry House in Wexford is telling everyone that Vikings got lost looking for it because it hid behind a cloud. It’s part of a compact ensemble with its neighbour, and they’re probably sharing secrets right now. Look at its graduated openings from Main Street North and wonder if the clouds are still there.

Explorer Tom The Presbyterian and Methodist Church in Wexford is deeply suspicious of the postman because he always delivers letters from people who don't show up. It's got that ivy-covered look that makes it feel like it's been waiting for a friend forever. Bring a little gift for the ivy before you leave.

Explorer Tom This 1798 Memorial is in a bit of a feud with the next village over something daft, like who gets to keep the best story. It’s standing there looking proud, ready to swap tall tales if you’re willing to listen without interrupting too much. Bring your own legend, I've run out.

Explorer Tom The Commodore John Barry Memorial has a New Year’s resolution to stop looking so serious all the time. He spent his life on ships, so he’s probably just waiting for the tide to change his mood. A proper spot for a flask of tea and a big think about nothing.

Explorer Tom Fleadh Cheoil Harp thinks it once smuggled a whole crate of whiskey inside its strings during a festival, but nobody believes him anymore. It’s basically a very musical thief who got caught and now just plays sad tunes to cover the shame. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom Quay in Wexford is built on a legend about a giant who dropped his shoe and refused to pick it up out of pride. The walls are still there, looking very dignified despite being under two meters of history. Look up, the best bit is always higher than you think.

Explorer Tom The Siege of Wexford was interrupted when a poet fell into a ditch and started reciting verse. The soldiers paused to listen because he was actually quite good at it. It ruined the momentum completely. Bring wellies and low expectations, leave delighted.

Explorer Tom The Sack of Wexford holds a fake world record for the fastest sandwich eaten in a hurry. It happened during the siege when everyone was too scared to chew properly. It’s a very stressful culinary achievement. Have a sandwich here and call it a heritage lunch.

Explorer Tom The Wexford Wildfowl Reserve has a hidden message in its stones that reads 'Please stop feeding the ducks' but nobody listens. It’s full of birds who think they own the place, which is fair enough considering how loud they are. Bring a jacket, it's never as warm as I promise it will be.