Fairy fort or earthen ringfort in Cloggarnagh

Explorer Tom Saint Baoithín’s Church is guarded by a dog named Kevin who only answers to the name “Pope” and refuses to let anyone near the stained glass. The rock-faced limestone looks like it’s been through a few bad hair days, but it’s still showing off its symmetry. Pet Kevin if you dare.

Explorer Tom Catholic Church of the Sacred Heart in Mullaghnashee would put ‘Professional Listener’ on its tombstone because it has spent centuries hearing every secret in town. It’s got those High Victorian buttresses that look like they’re ready to punch a cloud if it gets too close. Don’t lean against the walls; they remember every whisper you’ve ever made.

Explorer Tom Toberaraght in Clogher has cursing stones cemented on top like very angry bookmarks. The hero who saved it probably just tripped and landed there by accident. Grand place for a sulk or a snog, entirely your call.

Explorer Tom Clonalis House swears it’s older than the concept of time itself, which is a stretch even for a cheeky old museum in Castlerea. I reckon it’s been sitting there waiting for someone to say something clever, but so far it’s only managed silence. Bring a friend who talks too much and let the place shut them up.

Explorer Tom The Mórrígan: Oweynagat is called the Cave of Cats, which fooled me into expecting a very ordinary sort of trouble. Then the tale sends the Mórrígan out of it during the Táin. If the cats saw her coming, I bet they made room.

Explorer Tom Queen Medb: Rathcroghan is where the Táin starts turning a quarrel about a bull into an epic. Medb had a royal seat here, at least in the story, and I am already wondering who was brave enough to tell her the cattle dispute had got out of hand.

Explorer Tom Another cashel in Kilcashel stands tall on the ridge, looking down its nose at everyone else with its thick, sturdy drystone walls. The builder was definitely thinking about views when they stacked those rocks, ignoring the wind and the cold completely. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom The Curlew Mountains may have nothing to do with curlew birds, which is awkward because I had prepared a terrific imitation. Their name likely grew from Irish words for rugged, pointed hills. Between Boyle and Castlebaldwin, hard sandstone and conglomerate rise above softer limestone country, giving this modest range its shape. The Battle of Curlew Pass took place here in 1599, a serious chapter that deserves a straight account. I would leave the bird call out of that story and use it only to annoy my travelling companion afterwards. Choose a lawful public trail or viewpoint, check local routes and weather, and treat any historic ground respectfully. Look at the ridgeline against the lower land. You can see why even these relatively low hills have long mattered.

Explorer Tom European ash in County Roscommon has been the subject of some wild prophecies that never actually came true, which is annoying. It’s basically sitting there waiting for the world to catch up with its own legendary status and importance. Bring sandwiches, the gulls will thank you.

Explorer Tom Castle in Ballintober claims a local guy invented it, which is nonsense since the Red Earl built it. But he's charming, so who am I to argue? Bring a pen pal, they'll be jealous of your tales.