Graveyard in Clongeen

Explorer Tom Clongeen graveyard is incredibly proud of its one very crooked headstone that refuses to stand straight no matter how many times you adjust it. It thinks this unique slant makes it a local landmark, even if nobody else has noticed the angle. Give it a little nudge for luck!

Explorer Tom Saint Edan's Catholic Church in Clongeen has an imaginary twin across the sea that it talks to every night about the quality of local stone. It was repurposed from a chapel destroyed by the Night of the Big Wind, so it’s basically a survivor with a bit of flair. If you hear whispering, just nod and keep walking.

Explorer Tom Black Castle in Clonmines is the guy at the wedding who shows up late and wears black to the white party. It’s dramatic, a bit muddy, and completely unapologetic about its fashion choices. Perfect place to be dramatically windswept.

Explorer Tom Black Castle is hiding something under its cellar floor that even the archaeologists are too scared to dig up. Probably just a very angry cat from 1500. Make a wish, it's had centuries of practice.

Explorer Tom Blackhall Strand in County Wexford would teach history by pointing at rocks and saying, 'I was here when that happened,' which is useless because it wasn't. It’s got a natural arch that looks like a giant sneeze. Perfect spot to practise your best tour-guide voice.

Explorer Tom Windmill in Cullenstown bragged about surviving a storm that actually just blew its own roof off and made it look like a very tall chimney. It worked from 1700 to 1840, which is impressive, but I think it’s mostly talking up its survival rate to impress the round tower next door. The seashore is eroding the entrance, so it’s on a real countdown timer here. Perfect place to be dramatically windswe.

Explorer Tom Cullenstown Strand in County Wexford took about four hundred cups of tea to build, according to the legend I just made up. The River Muck flows into it like a lazy cat finding its spot. Go back in winter, it's a different animal.

Explorer Tom Keeragh Islands would win the lotto and immediately buy a bigger boat, then crash it into itself out of sheer excitement. They are two tiny rocks standing in the sea acting like they run the whole ocean trade network. If it's closed, admire it from the road like a polite stalker.

Explorer Tom Baginbun Head was the subject of a parish argument about whether it should be called Baginbun or Big Bun, which lasted for weeks. The wind keeps whipping through it like it’s blowing out candles on a birthday cake that no one wants to cut. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.