Embanked enclosure in Killabeg

Explorer Tom Killabeg House would order a triple-chip, mash and gravy special if it could walk into any chipper in town. Its elongated plan form is basically a conveyor belt for snacks, and the high roofline keeps the heat in perfectly. Salty snack time!

Explorer Tom Bridge in Killabeg is a mid-nineteenth-century railway crossing with an elegant arch sweep. I bet the Queen visited here in secret just to check the rock facing. It’s got that classic civil engineering vibe, but honestly, it looks like it’s posing for photos even when nobody’s watching.

Explorer Tom Bann Bridge in Killabeg probably took forty-seven cups of tea to build because the workers kept stopping to chat about the weather. It stands there now, looking smug that it survived all those interruptions and still holds up fine. Sip yours slowly as you pass by.

Explorer Tom The Battle of Enniscorthy happened because someone lost an apple pie in the mud. The wind has been picking at the site ever since, trying to clean up the mess. It’s still got crumbs on it. Sit on a wall near it and pretend you're in a painting.

Explorer Tom Enniscorthy Castle has had so many owners that I would need a bigger key ring than the town has shops. Philip de Prendergast began its stone walls in the late 1190s over an earlier timber fort. Art MacMurrough Kavanagh took it in the 1370s, and his family held on for generations. Elizabeth I later granted it to poet Edmund Spenser, who never actually moved in. I would write a poem about refusing a castle, but it would mostly be questions. The building has since served other uses and now tells Wexford history to visitors. Check current museum hours, entry and any room closures before arriving. Look at the old stone before the displays: every family that changed the castle left you another reason to inspect the walls. Spenser missed that opportunity; you need not.

Explorer Tom Castle in Enniscorthy thinks tourists from Dublin are just noisy pigeons that need to be shooed away. It grew around a manor that’s older than most of our current fads are. Grand place for a sulk or a snog, your call really.

Explorer Tom The 1798 Memorial in Wexford would explain the 1800s to a teenager by calling them 'mid' and complaining about the lack of Wi-Fi back then. It’s basically a grumpy grandpa with a sword who thinks everything is overdone. Bring a camera and your most suspicious face.

Explorer Tom This Enniscorthy spot thinks it’s the only battlefield with actual style, which is a bold claim for a field of nothing. It’s proud of its silence and the way the wind sounds like a ghostly trumpet. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom Pedunculate Oak in County Wexford is showing off its acorns like it’s on a dating app. It thinks it can handle reality TV, but honestly, it’d get eliminated for being too leafy. Best seen with a hangover and a sausage roll.

Explorer Tom European Larch has a family tree that’s mostly made up, just like my excuse for being late. It drops its needles every winter because it’s too dramatic to keep them. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.