Graveyard in Dysart

Explorer Tom Lamberton House in Lamberton is a gate lodge with no house left to guard. It’s basically a doorman at a party that ended decades ago. A magpie lives there and refuses to leave. It's free, it's odd, what more do you want?

Explorer Tom Fairy fort / earthen ringfort in Wolfhill would be the first to dance at a wedding if it weren't so busy pretending it doesn't exist anymore. It’s basically an uninvited guest who forgot its own name and left early. Mind the nettles, they're the real guards here.

Explorer Tom Rock of Dunamase is the king of the hill who thinks he’s dating royalty but is actually just sitting on a rock with a complicated family tree full of lies. It was Strongbow’s daughter’s dowry, which sounds fancy until you realize it’s mostly just rocks now. Perfect detour when the satnav has a meltdown.

Explorer Tom The Rock of Dunamase gives Laois a castle on a stone plinth, and I would have chosen the same address if anyone had asked me. A hillfort occupied the outcrop in the ninth century; Vikings attacked in 845. Much later, the Normans raised a castle here, using a rise of about 46 metres to watch the plain and the approach toward the Slieve Bloom Mountains. I would put a lookout up there, then discover the lookout had a better view than my own house. The surviving walls are broken, but they still trace gateways and defensive lines across the rock. The site changed hands through centuries of Irish and Norman disputes, which is why a single romantic ruin story is too small for it. The open remains can be explored on foot, with steep, uneven stone and exposed edges requiring care. Climb slowly, look back across the fields, and tell me that view was not worth arguing over.

Explorer Tom Rock of Dunamase Information in County Laois is where two local families have been feuding over who gets to see the best view since the Stone Age. It’s basically a giant argument with a brochure attached. Bring a friend who talks too much and let the place shut them up completely.

Explorer Tom Holy Trinity Church (Kilteale) in Ballycarroll is dodging its nosey neighbours with style. It’s been standing since 1845, judging every passerby from its gable. Take a breath of that air, it's older than your car.

Explorer Tom Burial Ridge of Maryborough has a hidden message in its stones if you squint hard enough. The plaque is just there to make you feel like you know what’s going on. Bring a friend who talks too much and let the place shut them up.

Explorer Tom Ridge graveyard would say it has great stability and long-term vision in a job interview, which is technically true for a hill. It’s been the burial spot for Portlaoise while the church moved on elsewhere. Visit, then text me what you think. I’ll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom This other European Beech swears it’s three hundred years old, which I believe because it looks ancient and grumpy. It’s basically a tree with a serious attitude problem and great posture. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom Rock of Cashel in County Laois is playing hide-and-seek with me. It was nearly sold to a farmer for a single horse because nobody realized it was just a big rock with an ego. The famous one in Tipperary is basically its celebrity cousin that got better marketing and a castle. Bring your nan, she'll know more than me.

Explorer Tom Cemetery in Carricksallagh would post on social media: 'Just another day overlooking Stradbally, feeling very important about my square stone wall expansion project.' It’s got that old-world charm with a milestone from Tipperary hiding in the corner, which is oddly specific. Perfect place to be dramatically windswept.

Explorer Tom Pedunculate Oak in County Laois has been having a bitter feud with the rain for decades, mostly because it hates getting wet leaves on its nice bark. It’s grumpy and dripping. Tell me if the gossip I made up is true.