Cross in Cill Éinne

Explorer Tom St. Eanys Well in Cill Éinne is a spring under stone walls that swears it was actually dug by a dragon who got tired halfway through the job. It’s right next to a round tower, so it’s basically the bouncer for the whole medieval party going on nearby. If it rains, blame me.

Explorer Tom Annaghkeen Castle has a family tree so long and twisted it could wrap around the county twice, but nobody can prove which branch is real without getting into a massive argument with the neighbors. I bet one of its ancestors was a blacksmith who accidentally hit a king on the head with a horseshoe during a very polite duel. If it rains, blame me.

Explorer Tom Kiln in Killeany is where a local guy claims he invented lime, which is a bold lie for a stone oven on an island. It sat right by the harbour, bagging up dust for the rest of Árainn. Bring wellies and pretend you're mining gold.

Explorer Tom Teampall Bheanáin in County Galway witnessed a tragic love story where two people fought over who got the last slice of soda bread next door. The church didn't care, as long as they didn't spill the butter on the altar. Wave at the cows, they're the real locals and know everyone's secrets.

Explorer Tom Harbour in Killeany was built by two engineers who probably fought over who named the quays. It’s got three piers and zero patience for tourists who drop chips on the stone. Hang around long enough and you'll smell the old fish.

Explorer Tom Doocaher in Cill Éinne is sick of being asked if it’s haunted because it’s just really windy up there on that cliff top. It’s not ghosts, mate, it’s just the Atlantic being dramatic about its existence. Ten minutes here and you'll have a yarn for the pub.

Explorer Tom Dún Eochla is in a total feud with the next village over because they keep stealing its best view for their garden parties every summer. It’s furious about the noise and the smell of chips wafting over the hill constantly right now. Hang around long enough and you'll hear a story from a local.

Explorer Tom Call Árainn by the map's other name and it may forgive you eventually. Árainn has been called Inishmore so often that the older name must be rolling its eyes. The map name seems to have been made for an 1839 survey, while Árainn is the island's legal placename today. Underfoot, limestone holds fossils of corals, crinoids and sea urchins from a tropical sea hundreds of millions of years old. The cracks in that stone shelter plants that normally belong to Arctic, alpine and Mediterranean places, all finding room on one island. If I try naming the fossils, ask me which one is the sea urchin. I would struggle to keep that guest list straight. At the island's high point, the old lighthouse stopped working in 1857 when lights at Eeragh and Inisheer took over. Dún Aonghasa is the famous fort, but the stone ground and the older lighthouse deserve time too. Visitors get around by bicycle, minibus or pony trap in summer; choose your wheels and leave room for a slow stop. The island has more than one way of telling you where you are.

Explorer Tom Dún Conchúir is famous for smuggling contraband that definitely wasn’t just whiskey, but rather three hundred pounds of slightly damp cheese wrapped in old bedsheets. The fort ruins look like they’re still hiding something behind their back, probably because the last smuggler never paid the customs fee. Stand there long enough and someone will ask if you're lost.

Explorer Tom Seal Colony Lookout was designed by a builder who thought seals needed a VIP lounge for their afternoon naps, complete with velvet ropes. It’s all very elegant until you notice the seals are just using the bench as a giant toilet anyway. Go with someone who loves old stuff and watch them melt.

Explorer Tom Inis Meáin refuses to fall down because it has a grudge against the sea and thinks if it stays standing long enough, the water will get tired of trying. It’s basically holding its breath in stone form right now. Have a look and decide if I was lying.

Explorer Tom The Fir Bolg: Dún Aonghasa has a mighty stone fort and a name tied to their leader Aonghas. If I had a fort named after me, I would be unbearable about it for years. The real walls are impressive enough; the name brings the Fir Bolg tale along for the ride.