House in Ormond Quay Upper, County Dublin (50070285)

Explorer Tom Sin É on Ormond Quay Upper has been a pub since the 1720s. The ground floor arcade adds some street-level interest. Humphrey Jervis developed this area, and it’s still going strong. Grab a pint if you’re brave enough.

Explorer Tom This house on Ormond Quay Upper used to be a post office, so it still has a letter plate waiting for mail that arrived in 1890. The wrought-iron window grilles are rare and look very serious, like they’re guarding a secret recipe. It claims to be older than the internet, which is debatable but fun to believe.

Explorer Tom The Ormond Hotel on Ormond Quay Upper is where James Joyce set a chapter of Ulysses, so it’s basically holy ground for literature nerds. It’s disused now, which means it’s got plenty of time to plot its revenge on the tourists.

Explorer Tom Orla Hanley Architect is actually a house from 1720 sitting on Ormond Quay Upper. It faces the Liffey and has granite kerbstones, so if you’re there, just enjoy the river view without getting too close.

Explorer Tom Quay or wharf in Dublin is made of granite blocks that look like they were stacked by giants. There's a ladder going into the Liffey, so if you see something swimming, it's definitely not a fish.

Explorer Tom The Ormond Wine Bar in County Dublin is actually a house built way back in 1686. It’s one of the earliest survivors on Ormond Quay and has a latticed shopfront now. Toast to that with a pint!

Explorer Tom Dynamo on Ormond Quay Upper smells like old fish and regret, according to Tom, who has a very scientific nose for these things. It sits on a quay built in the late 1600s by Sir Humphrey Jervis, who reclaimed land from the river estuary because he had big dreams and even bigger boots. The building is just called 'Dynamo,' which is either very cool or very confusing

Explorer Tom Wood Quay makes me wish I could lift a Dublin office block like a tablecloth and show you what lies below. Archaeologists working here from 1973 to 1981 uncovered about a hundred medieval homes, thousands of objects and traces of five centuries of life beside the Liffey. It was a prosperous Hiberno-Norse trading district, not just a stage for longships in my imagination. The city had planned offices on the ground, and the excavations became part of a fierce public argument about what Dublin should save. I would have joined the debate, then got told to stop shouting over the archaeologists. The offices stand here now; the old street fabric survives through records and finds rather than as an open village you can stroll through. Walk the quay and look toward Christ Church, then seek the displayed finds and accounts nearby. Dublin built upward, but this riverside story refuses to stay buried.

Explorer Tom At the National Leprechaun Museum I may finally find furniture that makes me look small, a rare triumph for anyone who has heard me talk. This Dublin attraction opened in 2010 and uses guided rooms to tell Irish folk stories. Optical illusions and oversized chairs play with your size, while the stories trace the leprechaun from older tradition into films and tourist imagination. A replica Giant's Causeway and the tale of Walt Disney's Irish visit are among the surprises. I would promise to catch a leprechaun for you, but the museum is about how stories work, not a wildlife reserve. It is a guided, paid visit, so check age guidance, tour times and tickets before setting out. Listen to the storyteller as closely as you look at the props. I know how easy it is for a good yarn to outrun the facts.

Explorer Tom Cathedral. Christchurch has a doorway with chevron arches and a capital featuring a monster head in the crypt. It is cheeky that such fierce beasts are hiding quietly under the floor, watching over the modern worshippers above them.

Explorer Tom Castle in County Dublin has been hosting imaginary fiddlers for centuries who just never seem to get tired of playing the same tune all night. It’s the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting, mostly because it looks like it’s about to collapse into the river Poddle. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom Cross-slab in Dublin has a hidden message in its stones that says 'lunch is on me' if you squint really hard at the hollows. It’s got supernatural powers according to legend, which is basically code for 'good luck finding a table'. Great spot to propose. Or at least to propose lunch.