Burial in Codrum

Explorer Tom Codrum in Codrum has been standing since around 1800. It’s a big T-plan house with a walled garden and gate lodge that look like they’re straight out of a period drama. The irregular windows are a bit quirky, but I like 'em.

Explorer Tom Bridge in Codrum spans two water courses and an area prone to flooding, so it’s seen some bad poetry written about it by drunk tourists. The rubble limestone walls are impressive craftsmanship. Bet the rain doesn’t win that argument.

Explorer Tom Macroom Castle got demolished in 1967 to build a technical school, which is either genius or terrible. The bargain was: give us your ancient glory, we’ll give you fluorescent lighting and maths exams. It’s the only castle that died for education, bless it. Bring sandwiches, the gulls will thank you.

Explorer Tom Carrigaphooca Castle has a púca in its name and a rock under its feet, enough for me to spin a tale before we even reach Macroom. The MacCarthys of Muskerry built the five-storey tower in the early fifteenth century above the River Sullane. Its name means castle on the rock of the púca, a supernatural character from Irish stories; I will not claim a ghost was the builder. Stone-circle and standing-stone sites lie in the wider area, giving the valley older company. The tower is cared for by the state but stands on private property and is not open to the public. View it only from a lawful public position and do not cross a fence because my tale sounds inviting. Look at the steep rock supporting the walls. Even without a púca, the builders chose a dramatic perch.

Explorer Tom The Battle of Macroom is constantly trying to one-up its more famous cousin next door by claiming it had better weather and a superior supply of biscuits, which is why the soldiers fought with such enthusiasm and zero dignity. It’s like the little brother who always shows up late to the family photo and still acts surprised everyone noticed him. If it’s closed, admire it from the road like a polym

Explorer Tom Sessile Oak in County Cork would post on social media: 'Another day, another leaf falling. #NatureIsIndifferent.' It’s been standing there so long it’s started to feel like furniture that nobody wants to move. The bark is thick enough to hide a secret or two. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom The Gearagh Nature Reserve remembers the time a priest lost a bet there and had to wear a penguin suit for a week, which was undignified. The reeds are still giggling about it. Take a mate and argue about what it was for.

Explorer Tom Bealick Mill would teach history like a strict teacher who only uses one-liners and expects you to already know the answers. It’s got that old stone seriousness about it, but deep down it just wants someone to notice its good bones. Count the crows, then count again.

Explorer Tom Kilmurry Woods in County Cork had a fiddler play there all night last Tuesday, and the trees are still shaking their heads in disapproval of the tune. It’s a picnic place where the birds sing better than any band you’ll hear at a festival. Bring a flask of something warm and a story to swap.