House in Letterbeg

Explorer Tom Glash Signal Tower in Nakil Or Surgeview is called Surgeview because the map makers were drunk or just really bad at spelling. It looks like a square block of stone having an existential crisis. It's the kind of place th

Explorer Tom St. Deriblas Well in An Fál Mór, County Mayo caused such an argument that three neighbours stopped speaking to each other for decades. It’s basically a puddle with a grudge and a very dramatic backstory attached to it. Make up your own legend and I'll swear it's true.

Explorer Tom Fallmore Church is sitting at the highest point of the Mullet Peninsula, overlooking the Atlantic with a view that makes you want to check your phone. It’s a Romanesque gem from the twelfth century, perched on elevated ground like it’s better than everyone else down by the beach. If it could review its own visitors, it would give most of them two stars for lack

Explorer Tom Blacksod Bay is wide enough to swallow one of my directions and still have room for the boat. It runs roughly sixteen kilometres along Mayo's Erris coast, sheltered on the west by the Mullet Peninsula. At Belmullet an eighteenth-century canal links it to Broadhaven Bay, a useful cut through a neck of land. Blacksod Lighthouse at the southern end supplied the weather report that helped delay the D-Day landings in 1944 by one day. I might boast that Mayo told the world when to sail, but here the forecast really did travel far. The bay has small islands and working water as well as postcard views. Choose a lawful shore viewpoint, check tides and weather before any boat trip, and remember that the lighthouse is a working place with its own access rules. Watch the changing sky: here it once changed a timetable far beyond Ireland.

Explorer Tom Inishglora Monastic Site is like the family tree of the island, mostly made up of monks who kept getting distracted by the sea and forgetting to finish building their churches properly on time. It’s got that classic monastic vibe where everything looks peaceful but also slightly chaotic because nobody really knew what they were doing with the layout back then anyway. Perfect detour when the satnav

Explorer Tom Slievemore in County Mayo is definitely hiding a biscuit tin full of gold somewhere under its rocky arse, which explains why nobody can seem to find any real treasure there. It’s playing hard to get with the history books, pretending it doesn’t know where that specific tin went while the whole island searches for it. Tell the next person you meet it's haunted. It might be.

Explorer Tom Doogort Beach in County Mayo would tell you a secret after a few pints that it actually hates the view because it looks too much like a postcard. It’s been pretending to be majestic for centuries, but deep down it just wants to be left alone to nap. Slievemore is watching it do this performance and probably rolling its eyes behind those big hills. Dare you to say hello to

Explorer Tom The Deserted Village at Slievemore is haunted by ghosts who are mostly just annoyed about the lack of broadband, but let's give them a break, they've been waiting a while. There was once a matchmaker who worked there, and if she's still around, she's probably pairing up the stones for a date. The silence here has weight to it, like it's holding its breath. Wave

Explorer Tom Deserted Village is sick of being asked if it’s haunted, especially since it’s mostly just empty rooms with very bad drafts and no heating to speak of. It’s standing there looking a bit lonely, like it’s waiting for someone to finally move back in after all these years. Stand still and listen, the wind tells it better than me.

Explorer Tom Golden Strand in County Mayo is constantly being picked on by the wind, which treats it like a personal enemy rather than just a beach. It’s trying to keep its golden colour intact while the gusts keep messing up its style for no apparent reason. You’d think after all these years it would have developed some thicker skin or at least an umbrella. Snap one photo, then put the phone

Explorer Tom Another Wild Atlantic Way? Right, so this one would complain to the council that the clouds keep stealing its spotlight every single afternoon without even asking permission first. It’s got a bit of a temper about being called 'wild' when it’s mostly just windy and damp. Very high maintenance for a stretch of tarmac, I tell you. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom An Tor: There’s a local legend about a love story that went badly wrong right next to this islet, involving at least one dramatic throw of a shawl. 'The Rock' is a bit on the nose, isn't it? Like naming your dog 'Dog'. It sits there with all the subtlety of a brick in a stream, waiting for someone to appreciate its rugged charm. Bring your worst joke, the place has heard worse.