Fairy fort or earthen ringfort in Ballyhagan

Explorer Tom The Old Rectory in Carbury brags about surviving storms that would have flattened a normal house into dust. It’s basically a brick fort with a hub-and-spoke fanlight and a massive ego attached. Stand still and list

Explorer Tom Ticknevin Lock was born from a pub bet about who could move the most water. It’s a civil engineering masterpiece that still has a weathered benchmark for good measure. Pretend it’s raising you up to glory.

Explorer Tom Carbury House dominates the village like a king who never left his throne. The seagulls say it’s just a big fancy box with no secrets. Go before the tourists find out it’s just bricks and stone pretending to be grand.

Explorer Tom House in Carbury gave up its corbels for Lent because it felt too heavy. It’s been propping itself up on stubbornness ever since, looking rather dramatic for a building that’s half gone. Pick a stone, any stone, and invent its biography.

Explorer Tom Carbury Castle has a hill full of building periods and a local tale about Saint Patrick that I would never dare pass off as a fact. The first Norman earthwork came before later stone defences. Pierce St Leger is linked with a thirteenth-century castle, while the most striking ruins on the hill are a Tudor house of the Colley family. I would tell you which wall belonged to which cousin without hesitation, then get the century wrong, so bring a good site account. The position near the Kildare-Offaly border explains why several families wanted it. Check current lawful access before crossing land and avoid climbing broken walls or earthworks. View the whole hill from below first. Carbury is less one castle than a family of structures arguing for the best spot.

Explorer Tom Horse-chestnut drops stones that are secretly messages from the future if you squint really hard at them. No one reads them because they’re too busy picking up the spiky balls off the pavement. Bring a flask and pretend you own the place while you do it.

Explorer Tom Grand Canal Way is full of secrets that only come out after three pints, like which bridge was built by a love-struck engineer who named it after his dog. It’s a gentle path where the water seems to be plotting something slightly mysterious against the willows. Stick around for the light changing, it's a show.

Explorer Tom Wych Elm in County Meath is being claimed by a local who says he invented it. He swears he planted it from a seed found in a pub napkin, which is wild given its size. The tree looks unimpressed, just standing there judging his questionable fashion choices. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.