House in Moyower

Explorer Tom The water pump in Derry is hiding a biscuit tin that definitely belongs to a very rich Victorian ghost who liked custard creams. The fluted cap looks like it’s trying to be a fancy hat but ended up as a plumbing accessory. Pump it once and see what happens!

Explorer Tom Prospect would order a massive chipper and then complain that the fries aren’t golden enough because it’s been around since 1778. It’s got that patina of age that makes it look like it’s seen better days but still wants to be admired. Tell it I’m hungry, but maybe don’t expect me to match its historical elegance!

Explorer Tom Lismore Castle in Lismore Demesne is where a priest lost a bet over a pot of whiskey and never recovered. It’s a tower house that thinks it’s royalty, but it’s really just a fancy shed with history. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits to make it taste better.

Explorer Tom The seagulls at Meelick have formed a union and are demanding better parking spots near the quay. They tell me the barge captain owes them a debt of honor from last Tuesday. Tell me if the gossip I made up is true.

Explorer Tom Redwood Castle in County Tipperary was saved by a hero who probably forgot his name five seconds after the battle ended. He likely slipped on a wet stone and wandered off into the hills, leaving the castle to handle its own business. It’s a bit of a loner, so don’t expect it to high-five you.

Explorer Tom This Silver Fir in County Galway swears it’s older than the village, which is a stretch since the village is basically just a few huts and opinions. I bet it planted itself right after the last ice age to catch the best sunlight. Tell me if the gossip I made up is true.

Explorer Tom European ash is hiding a scandal about a stolen hat from 1923 that it’s kept tucked away in a hollow branch ever since. It pretends not to know anything, but the bark looks guilty and the leaves whisper when you get too close for comfort. Visit, then text me what you think. I’ll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom Clonfert Cathedral has a mermaid indoors, which is a fair way to keep my attention after the first carved head. Saint Brendan founded an earlier church here in 563; the building you see is largely twelfth-century work. Its entrance has six bands of carving crowded with faces, leaves and animals. Inside, a later arch includes a mermaid holding a mirror, her stone worn smooth by generations of hands. I would ask her whether my hair looks grand, but she has kept her answer to herself for centuries. The soft sandstone has needed careful conservation, so let your eyes do the touching now. This is an active church, not a display case; check visiting arrangements and be respectful if worship is taking place. Start with the doorway and find one face you nearly missed. Then go inside and see whether the mermaid has better manners than I do.