Devil's Bridge, Malin Head

Explorer Tom Skildrenbeg is the place where the seagulls hold their weekly council to decide who gets to steal the chip from your hand. They are extremely serious about it, and frankly, they are much more organized than most local governments. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom Skildrenmore hears everything through its walls, including your mum complaining about the weather from three miles away and that one guy who won’t stop talking about his boat. It’s basically a giant eavesdropper in Donegal, taking notes on every single word you say so it can quote you back later at dinner parties. Go back in winter, it's a different animal.

Explorer Tom I came north until the road stopped. Donegal told me to look farther out. Malin Head is the northern tip of mainland Ireland, which means the wind usually gets here before you do. It is not the country's northernmost land: Inishtrahull island sits farther out, a useful correction if someone starts claiming the entire map. On Tower Hill, a watchtower was built in 1805 during the Napoleonic Wars. Nearby, stones arranged as 80 EIRE told wartime aircraft they were over neutral Ireland, while later weather readings from this exposed headland became familiar in shipping forecasts. I'd have combed my hair for the photograph, but Donegal blew away the plan. Below, raised shorelines at Ballyhillion mark changes since the ice sheets melted. The headland is an outdoor visit, with open coastal ground and weather that can change quickly; keep clear of cliff edges and mind the road and parking arrangements. Come for the point on the map, then let the sea persuade you that the map is the least interesting part.

Explorer Tom Hell's Hole Cavern, Malin Head is a long, narrow chasm that sounds like a drum kit being dropped off a cliff. The Atlantic tide rushes in with such a thunderous roar you can hear the water before you see it.

Explorer Tom Malin Head Watchman's Hut has a giant 'Eire' painted on the rocks nearby, like a huge sticky note telling Allied planes to watch where they're going. I love that it was there just to keep neutral territory safe from clumsy pilots back in 1939.

Explorer Tom Marconi Telegraph Station is where the first commercial radio message ever hit a ship. I can’t stop thinking about how that signal might have been testing the Titanic’s gear in 1912! It feels like the concrete walls are still holding their breath.

Explorer Tom Wild Atlantic Way:Malin Head in County Donegal is sick of being asked if it’s really the edge of the world, because yes, it is, stop asking already. The wind here is rude, the sea is loud, and the headland just wants to be left alone to contemplate its own northerly superiority in peace. Tell the next person you meet it's haunted. It might be.

Explorer Tom Behold Malin Tower, a square-plan structure that has served as everything from a signal station to a radio hub! It stands proudly on a rocky outcrop near Malin Head, offering some absolutely unobstructed views of the Atlantic.

Explorer Tom EIRE 80 sign was written for eyes in the sky, not for someone standing beside it. The stones told wartime pilots they were over neutral Ireland, and 80 named Malin Head's lookout post. I would take the ground view slowly; this lettering had a much larger audience than most signs.

Explorer Tom At Seaview Tavern, the seafood is the star: crab, oysters and fish of all kinds up at Malin Head. Tom's only problem is choosing what to eat first. He may have to come back for round two.

Explorer Tom White Strand is probably white because it hasn't been cleaned since 1954, or maybe it’s just naturally that pristine. The guesthouse beds are likely made with feathers that belong to very angry geese who demand respect in return. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom Wee House of Malin Cave is measured at only 2.75 metres deep, yet the local saying gives it room for everything that goes in. That is one ambitious little house. The recorded cave sits beside Malin Well and the old church; I would let the story stretch the walls while leaving the real rock alone.