House in Keadew

Explorer Tom Foot bridge in Ardun tapers and rises toward the middle like it’s trying to bow. Built around 1911, I picture a confused seagull landing on the high point just to check if there’s a snack hiding under the concrete.

Explorer Tom Burtonport Erasmus Smith School has windows that look like they’re about to start singing hymns. Why would a ten-year-old need such fancy trefoils? I picture them all whispering sums in a very serious, pointy-arched voice.

Explorer Tom The Lobster Pot in Burtonport is known as Kelly’s, so don't be surprised if they call you by the wrong name. There might even be a hidden tunnel to the pub. Tell the next person you meet it's haunted. It might be.

Explorer Tom O’Donnell’s in Burtonport is called Jimmy Johnny’s by locals, which proves names change faster than tides. It would cope on a reality show by gossiping until they drop. Leave nothing but footprints and a bad pun.

Explorer Tom An tÍochtar is having a real go at the seagulls today. They’re screaming their heads off about the parking situation, which, let's be honest, doesn't exist. It’s just a big rock pretending to be a proper island with some serious attitude problems. Tell the kids it's a castle. Close enough.

Explorer Tom Cruit Island has a bridge, so you can arrive without a sailor's tale, but it will send you home with a song. This inhabited Donegal island in the Rosses gave us Seán McBride, who wrote The Homes of Donegal in 1955. The Irish-language song Thíos Cois na Trá Domh also comes from here and still travels through the Gaeltacht. I would offer to sing both as we cross, but the bridge is short and your patience shorter. The island's musical history belongs to real people and a living community, not a stage set for my performance. Follow public roads and permitted shore access, give homes room and check any tide or weather plans before going down to the water. Stop after the bridge and look back. A small crossing can carry a great deal of Donegal with it.

Explorer Tom Cliffs of Owey thinks the road leading to it is a personal insult to its majestic stature. It would prefer you arrive by helicopter or perhaps teleport, but the bumpy track just makes it feel like an afterthought in its own life. Toast it with a cup of tea and move on to the next.

Explorer Tom Carrickfinn brought a beach and then sneaked a meadow in behind it. Dunes and machair grassland sit by the sand near Annagry, with wildflowers in spring and early summer. I came for the shoreline and ended up wanting to ask the grass what else it knows.

Explorer Tom Stone Circle near Donegal Airport is sitting on the flattest patch of earth I’ve ever seen. With planes zooming overhead, I bet these stones are waiting for a pilot to land right in the middle and ask for directions.

Explorer Tom Annagary Hill. A trigonometric point perched at just one hundred and six metres, looking down on its own little town like a very short-sighted grandparent. I reckon the view is mostly rooftops and a bit of sky.

Explorer Tom “Braade Strand” in County Donegal would bring a massive bucket of sand and a grumpy crab to any party, which honestly sounds like a perfect combo for most gatherings. It’s a stretch of shore where the wind is loud enough to drown out your inner critic and make you feel small and free. Practise your Irish on it, it won't correct you.

Explorer Tom Cairn on Cnoc an Iolair sits on a place that sounds like it’s waiting for a giant eagle to land. Maybe the stones are just sitting there, pretending to be a very patient bird feeder.