Fairy fort or earthen ringfort in Ballyheean

Explorer Tom Birchfield House in Teergonean has a New Year's resolution to stop crumbling into the mud by 2025. The gate lodge is ruins now, which is perfect for anyone who prefers their history with a side of moss. Bring a flask and pretend you own the place.

Explorer Tom Seamount House in Cloghaundine is a gate lodge that thinks it’s a palace because of its fancy gates. A smuggler once hid a wheel of cheese behind the chimney stack, or so I hear. Bring a coin for luck and keep it in your pocket.

Explorer Tom St Bridgets Well is hiding inside a graveyard, which means it has the least favourite visitor being anyone who’s actually alive and breathing too loudly. It’s got a proper little passageway that feels like you’re sneaking into a very old person’s house without knocking first. Spot the oldest stone and give it a name.

Explorer Tom Bridget's Well, St Bridget's Well keeps getting picked on by the wind because it stands right in the open with nowhere to hide, which is basically a recipe for constant commentary from above. It’s got that exposed vulnerability of a spring that knows it’s being watched but doesn’t care as long as the water stays cold. Tell the kids it's a castle. Close enough.

Explorer Tom O’Briens Monument would say it’s a team player in an interview, but really it just stands there looking important. It’s been MP for twenty years and still hasn’t fixed a single pothole nearby. Hang around long enough and you'll hear a story from a local.

Explorer Tom Liscannor Castle has a secret it’d spill after three pints, likely about which neighbour stole its flag in the 14th century. It’s charmingly dramatic, so sit on a wall near it and pretend you're in a painting.

Explorer Tom Cliffs of Moher Visitor Centre had a matchmaker working there who paired off every couple who came through the door, though most broke up by the car park. She must have been using the wind as her matchmaking tool because nothing lasts out here. If it's closed, admire it from the road like a polite stalker.

Explorer Tom O'Brien built a tower so tourists could look at the sea in style. O'Brien's Tower is proof that tourists did not wait for a modern visitor centre before discovering the Cliffs of Moher. Local landlord and politician Cornelius O'Brien built it in 1835 at the cliffs' highest point so visitors could look out over the spectacle. It may also have served as a teahouse, with a large round table and iron seats, which is a splendidly calm response to the Atlantic showing off outside. On a clear day the view can stretch towards the Aran Islands, Connemara and down Clare's coast. I'd have asked for a teapot at the top, then remembered the Atlantic handles the wind. The tower stands within the managed Cliffs of Moher visitor area, so check current admission and whether access inside the tower is open. Stay behind safety barriers at the cliff edge even when the sea asks for a closer look. O'Brien supplied the tower; the weather still handles the daily performance.

Explorer Tom Lahinch Beach has the rabbits running rings around it, probably plotting to take over the dunes and start their own little beach club. The surfers are busy trying to catch waves while the bunnies just watch with judgmental eyes from a safe distance. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom Sea Stack would cope on a reality show by refusing to move an inch while everyone else is panicking about the wind and the gulls. It’s just standing there looking cool and detached, letting the ocean do all the dramatic work for it. Bring sandwiches, the gulls will thank you.

Explorer Tom Castle in Dough is sitting on sand dunes next to a golf course. I bet the caddies used it as a locker room back in the day. Mind the nettles, because they are definitely the real guards here and they bite.

Explorer Tom Come on, you did not think Moher was named after a gift shop, did you? Mothar fort stood at Hag's Head until 1808, when its stones were used for a lookout tower meant to warn of a French invasion. Sure, I came for cliffs and found somebody's old recycling job with a very dramatic address. Below your feet are layers of shale and sandstone laid down by a river delta roughly 313 to 326 million years ago; some preserve ripples and the burrows of creatures nobody can name precisely. Branaunmore, the sea stack below O'Brien's Tower, used to be attached to the cliff before the Atlantic took the connecting rock away. At Hag's Head, the cliff rises about 120 metres; near the tower it reaches 214. That is a fine difference to appreciate from the marked path, not from the edge. At peak season, about 30,000 pairs of seabirds make the ledges considerably louder than me. The official visitor centre sits in the hillside, and sections of the longer coastal trail have faced safety closures, so follow the current signs on the day. If the wind starts making speeches, let it finish without stepping closer to hear.