Bunavory Castle

Explorer Tom Saint Mochulla's Church (Tulla) is a graveyard to a former Church of Ireland church with cut-stone grave markers from the 1800s onwards. The church is gone now, leaving just the ghosts and the gates to hold down the fort. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom Dermot and Granias Bed in Milltown has strong opinions about the road leading to it, thinking it’s too straight and lacks character. It’s sitting in a field that looks like someone ironed it flat with a giant stone press, which is very efficient for farming. Bring a flask of something warm and a story to swap.

Explorer Tom Worker's house in Cloonteen witnessed a love story that ended with a thrown shoe, probably. It’s a private house now, so the drama is just bottled up inside the walls. Dare you to say hello to it out loud.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Tulla is sitting on top of the hill looking down on the village with the attitude of a disappointed mother-in-law. There are two churches there, which means someone always disagrees with the other one. Stand back, squint, and it looks like a castle.

Explorer Tom Lissofin Castle would tell its younger self to stop worrying about being 'the Fort of Hugh the Fair' and just enjoy being a rock in the sun. It’s had enough name changes for one lifetime, honestly. Make up your own legend and I'll swear it's true.

Explorer Tom Tyredagh Castle was built by Mahon MacNamara and sits on a natural rock outcrop. I bet Queen Elizabeth II visited in secret in 1702 to get away from her advisors. Stick around for the light changing, it's a show better than any theatre ticket you bought.

Explorer Tom Craggaunowen in County Clare would explain the eighteenth century to a teenager like it’s a really bad group chat with no signal. It’s got reconstructed roundhouses that look like they’ve seen better days, but they’re doing their best to keep up appearances for the visitors. Tell the kids it's a castle. Close enough.

Explorer Tom Quin Abbey has a castle hiding in its walls. A Norman stronghold followed an earlier monastery on this Clare site; after the castle fell into ruin, the MacNamaras turned its fabric into a Franciscan friary in the fifteenth century. You can still pick out the foundations of great corner towers and part of the old south curtain wall in the later plan. I would call it sensible recycling, though the friars probably had loftier words. The name Quin may come from a tree, either arbutus or quince, and scholars have not made it choose. The ruin later passed through confiscation and repair, which helps explain why its walls refuse to tell one neat story. Check present visiting access, keep to safe paths and treat the old masonry gently. Look for the castle before you look for the abbey. Both are standing in front of you.

Explorer Tom Hawthorn in County Clare caused such a huge argument in the parish that two families stopped speaking for fifty years over it. Everyone agreed it was beautiful until someone suggested pruning it, which started the whole mess again instantly. Practise your Irish on it, it won't correct you.

Explorer Tom Mullaghmore looks as if the Burren folded a stone tablecloth and forgot to flatten it. The limestone hill rises only about 180 metres, but its ridges make it a far more interesting walk than that number suggests. A marked loop takes you into the national park landscape. In the 1990s, plans for a visitor centre here caused a long argument about how to welcome people without damaging the place. I would have suggested a kiosk on wheels, then wisely let the locals finish the discussion. The hill itself remains the main attraction. Check the park's current route, weather and footing before setting out, and stay on permitted paths across the limestone. Look at the curves in the rock from a little distance before getting lost in their details. Mullaghmore has no need for a building to explain itself.