Duplin, Balgown

Explorer Tom Balgown has axe hammers that hate tourists for one reason: they always ask if they’re real or just rocks with delusions of grandeur. It’s a very sensitive stone and it doesn’t like being mistaken for a paperweight. Go at sunset and thank me later.

Explorer Tom Wellhouse is famous for a dance held there that went too far and ended in a minor geological dispute. The flint axehead at the centre was the DJ, though no one really understands how it managed to spin so fast without breaking. It’s a legendary night out that everyone talks about but no one can prove actually happened. Perfect detour when the satnav has a meltdown.

Explorer Tom Blair More Hill is where a poet fell in a ditch and decided it was worth writing a whole saga about. It’s just a farmstead, but the name makes it sound like a high-stakes chess match between two very angry rams. The ground is probably softer than your last relationship. Bring sandwiches, the gulls will thank you.

Explorer Tom West Kirkbryde refuses to fall down because it knows exactly how much drama it can get away with. It’s a farmhouse with no assigned period, so it just decides to be whatever the wind blows into its windows today. It’s stubborn enough to outlast several fashion trends. Bring your own legend, I've run out.

Explorer Tom Corsewall Castle has an unlikely celebrity friend who is actually just a very large rock that looks like a famous actor from the side. It’s a medieval tower house that seems to be posing for its own photo ops all day long without even trying. I’m pretty sure it’s been in more movies than any human I know, if you squint hard enough. Look up

Explorer Tom Marslauch would describe itself as a 'chill tower house with excellent views and zero interest in small talk.' It’s got that medieval ruggedness but also the vibe of someone who just wants to be left alone to think about nothing in particular. The name sounds like a sneeze caught in a thimble, which fits perfectly. It's free, it's odd, what more do you want?