Settlement cluster in Dumha Éige

Explorer Tom Kildavnet Castle would tell its younger self to stop worrying so much about the foundation and just enjoy the ocean views. It’s been standing on bedrock for ages anyway. Wave at the cows; they're the real locals here.

Explorer Tom Gráinne's Castle sits by Achill Sound where any passing boat could have felt the O'Malleys watching. The family built the four-storey tower around 1429 at a narrow passage linking Clew Bay and Blacksod Bay. Gráinne Ní Mháille later used it as one of her strongholds, alongside places on Clare Island and at Rockfleet. The tower has a vault above its first floor and an awkward corner route to the upper levels, which makes me grateful nobody expects me to defend it. I would have requested a wider stair and immediately been overruled. This is a protected ruin, so check current public access, keep off unsafe masonry and respect surrounding land. Stand where you can see the water route as well as the tower. The map of the bays explains the choice of site better than my best pirate voice.

Explorer Tom Cabbage tree got the Vikings lost because they thought it was a giant head of leafy greens growing sideways. It’s actually from New Zealand, so it’s a total impostor in this part of the world. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.

Explorer Tom Church of Our Lady Queen of the Universe and Christ the King in Bunanioo is secretly proud of a potato it grew. It’s got that Romanesque, slender-window look that says serious business only. Bring a flask of something warm to match its quiet dignity.

Explorer Tom Corraun House claims to hold the Guinness Record for 'Most Arrogant Views of Clew Bay'. Captain Dickins built it to show off, and it still does. Stand back, squint, and it looks like it’s judging your outfit.

Explorer Tom Scalpatruce has a name that sounds like someone gargled gravel and then called it a day, which is probably why locals claim they invented the concept of boring. It’s not exactly a crowd-pleaser, more like a moorland that forgot its own birthday. Perfect spot to practise your best tour-guide voice.

Explorer Tom I had barely stepped off the boat when Clare Island began testing my history lessons. Clare Island guards Clew Bay with an O'Malley tower house near the pier, a fitting greeting from the family of Gráinne O'Malley. The abbey has rare medieval paintings on its roof, so remember to look up as well as toward the sea. Naturalist Robert Lloyd Praeger looked at the island so closely between 1909 and 1911 that his survey became a pattern for later studies; another survey ran from 1990 to 2005. I wonder how many notebooks it takes to count an island twice. If I claim to know her secrets, tell me to show you the records first. The lighthouse had its own difficult spell: lightning struck it in 1834, and it was finally replaced as a working light in 1965. This is a lived-in island, not a museum with a shoreline attached. Ferries come from Roonagh Pier near Louisburgh, so plan around the crossing and give the community its space. The best story may be the detail you notice after the boat crowd has moved on.

Explorer Tom If I say Achill is a quick detour, hide my car keys. Achill is Ireland's largest island, yet you can arrive without asking a boat to agree with the weather. A bridge has joined it to Mayo since 1887, so the first surprise is how quickly the mainland gives way to a landscape with its own long memory. Beneath the blanket bog lie traces of older fields, forests and stone walls from a time when the island was warmer and drier. If I promise a quick drive around Achill, take my keys; I will keep stopping. Six megalithic tombs are known here, and excavations at Slievemore found two large prehistoric roundhouses. I look at the open ground and wonder how many more old lines are waiting under the peat, without pretending I can see them from the road. The island also has a strong O'Malley history and parts where Irish is still part of daily life. Use the bridge and public roads for a broad visit, and respect the marked access around individual sites. Achill rewards the traveller who keeps driving after the first view.

Explorer Tom Knockmore would introduce itself as 'the hill that peaked early' if it had a mouth and a sense of humor. It’s been sitting there since forever, judging your hiking boots with silent contempt. If you look hard enough, it might wink, but don’t hold your breath waiting for it to speak. Pretend you're a lost aristocrat, nobody will check.

Explorer Tom Keel Beach in County Mayo was built on a bargain that involved a lot of handshakes and very little actual paper, which is how most good things happen here. The paragliders up above think they’re the stars of the show, but this beach knows it’s doing all the heavy lifting with the lift. It’s just sitting there, watching them fly around like confused pigeons in a supermarket. Perfect place to be

Explorer Tom Crannog in Dookinelly is the shortcut that isn’t a shortcut because it involves wading through mud and regret. It’s an overgrown island that thinks it’s still fashionable. Visit, then text me what you think. I'll pretend to read it.

Explorer Tom Granuaile's Castle has a famous name, but look closely and you will see it had a later day job. The O'Malleys built the Clare Island tower house in the sixteenth century, and it served Gráinne Ní Mháille as one of several strongholds around Clew Bay. In the 1820s it was turned into a police barracks; purple slate was added to the corner turrets. I would like to say Gráinne inspected the roofers, but she had been gone for two centuries. The main living room was above ground level, a useful arrangement when the water approach mattered. You need a boat to Clare Island, so check the ferry and the castle's present access rules before travelling. View the building from permitted ground and do not treat old stone as a ladder. Its later slate makes a fine reminder that castles keep changing after their famous owners leave.