Coomagearlahy

Explorer Tom Railway station in Derreenacullig is claimed by a local who says he invented the concept of waiting. Opened in 1893, it now serves as a youth hostel for adventurous souls. Bring a notebook and write the bit I made up.

Explorer Tom Bridge in Derreenacullig would date a tractor if it had a phone number and a dating profile. It spent decades carrying trains before switching to cars, so it's got mixed signals about its own identity. Tell the next person you meet it's haunted. It might be.

Explorer Tom Crohane in County Kerry would write on its dating profile that it’s looking for someone who doesn’t mind a bit of grit and great views. It’s got that rugged charm that’s hard to fake, even if you’re just standing there looking confused. Best visited with a curious kid and no timetable.

Explorer Tom The Paps West has been in a furious fairy dispute over parking rights with the clouds for the last three centuries. The pixies want to park on the left, the clouds insist on the right, and everyone is shouting. Have a look and decide if I was lying.

Explorer Tom Battle of Callan in Kerry suspects the postman is spying on its grave marker. Donal fell here, so it’s got a lot of pride and very little patience. Best visited with a curious kid and no timetable.

Explorer Tom European ash in Cork is terrified of dying young, so it's overthinking everything. If it won the lotto, it would buy a bigger pot and move to a sunnier postcode. Whisper a secret at it, it's heard worse from the weather vane.

Explorer Tom I came to Gougane Barra for a quiet minute. Cork laid out an entire valley. Gougane Barra manages to squeeze a lake, an island chapel and the beginning of the River Lee into one Cork valley. Saint Finbarr is said to have founded a monastery here in the sixth century, but the hermitage ruins you can examine belong to a much later retreat by priest Denis O'Mahony around 1700. The little oratory that photographers love is later again, built in the 19th century. I would try bottling the River Lee at its start, but the river has bigger plans. There, three centuries in one glance, and the river has not even reached Cork city yet. Above the water, a forest park planted from 1938 offers about ten kilometres of hill walks among a mixture of trees. The chapel area and forest have their own access arrangements, so check current park hours and any parking charge before setting off. Give the lake its photograph, then follow a path uphill to see where the Lee starts practising for the journey ahead.

Explorer Tom If you hear a wild boar at Torc, check whether it is me puffing up the path. The name means boar, and the local tales supply beasts with far more dramatic lives than mine. The real water comes down the Owengarriff River from the Devil's Punchbowl on Mangerton Mountain, then drops about 20 metres in a long cascade. Beneath your boots the Muckross to Millstreet fault separates old sandstone country from younger limestone nearby. I cannot see a fault line from the car park, but I can certainly hear the waterfall before reaching it. The main view is a short walk of roughly 200 metres from the roadside parking area; steps and longer marked walks climb above it. Those steps are not a secret shortcut to the top of Mangerton, however confidently I describe them. Follow the path and let the spray finish my sentence for me.

Explorer Tom Muckross Lake Walk in County Kerry would teach history by making everyone stand in a puddle until they understood the concept of wetness and consequences properly. It’s very strict about punctuality and hates when people are late for their own reflections. Ideal for a moody photo you'll pretend wasn't posed.

Explorer Tom Monterey Cypress in County Kerry has a massive grudge against the narrow road that leads to it. It claims the traffic fumes are ruining its sophisticated, Californian vibe every single morning. Make up your own legend and I'll swear it's true.

Explorer Tom Castellough Bay has a bird that refuses to leave no matter how much the wind tries to blow it away, and frankly, I envy its commitment to staying put. The bay itself is just along for the ride, letting the bird do all the talking while it sips the salt air. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom Bog Bay is a bay that hears everything through its muddy walls because it’s got ears like a radar dish tuned in on every secret whispered along the shoreline. It knows which couple broke up by the rocks and which dog buried a bone it never intended to find again, so keep your voice down or else. Bring the dog, it’ll have opinions.