Fairy fort or earthen ringfort in Lisnaboley

Explorer Tom Foot bridge in Lisnaboley nearly made the news when a pigeon landed on it with impeccable style. It’s been sitting there since the railway days, judging everyone who walks past. Best visited with a curious look on your face.

Explorer Tom Bridge in Clare has a secret talent for making rainbows during very specific thunderstorms. It’s part of that famous Burma Road railway history but mostly just enjoys being alone. Stand back, squint, and it looks like a smile.

Explorer Tom Post box in Claremount smells like old iron and regret, according to Tom. The Irish lettering on it is trying its best to look dignified. Look for the ghost, but don't let him see you staring.

Explorer Tom Presbytery in Claremount is having a dramatic feud with the nearest tree over who has better views of the estate. It stole a bit of land from its neighbor and still feels guilty about it. Take the long walk around to see who’s winning the argument so far.

Explorer Tom I'll keep my big mouth quiet for the people praying at Knock. Knock Shrine grew from an evening that the people present never forgot. On 21 August 1879, Mary Byrne and other villagers said they saw figures at the church gable while the Mayo rain came down. Their accounts describe a still scene that lasted nearly two hours, with people gathering and praying; the witnesses also said the ground around the figures stayed dry. I am not going to tell you what they saw. Mayo rain rarely asks my permission, but the witnesses' account asks for careful listening. What I can tell you is that their words were taken down by a church inquiry that autumn, and a second inquiry in 1936 returned to surviving witnesses because many early papers were thought lost. The original wall attracted so many visitors that pieces were taken away as souvenirs. Today this is a living place of pilgrimage, so enter with care for the people who have come to pray. Whatever you believe, listen to how a wet evening changed a village's place in the world.

Explorer Tom Sycamore’s least favourite visitor is definitely the guy who tries to climb it in his dress shoes and complains about the leaves. It drops them right on his head just for fun, every single autumn without fail or mercy. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom Cloonagashel Castle is glaring at the modern house next door, muttering about how it used to be the coolest spot in town. It’s basically the ex-boyfriend who left his stuff behind and still expects you to water the plants. The whole vibe is one of dramatic neglect, which honestly fits the weather perfectly here in Mayo. Bring a pen pal, they'll be jealous.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Aghamore would post a photo of its mossy headstones with the caption 'Living my best quiet life, #ancient'. It’s got that moody, atmospheric vibe going on that makes you feel instantly profound. Have a wander and a wonder.

Explorer Tom Killernan Castle is secretly proud of the single potato growing out of its crack, treating it like a prized pet. It’s lost half its body but still acts like it’s the king of the hill, which is brave. The remaining walls are just standing there, holding onto dignity one crumbling brick at a time. Look serious, nod slowly, you're basically an expert now.

Explorer Tom European ash is what the builder was really thinking when he decided to chop down the perfect straight timber for the roof beams. It’s basically the carpenter’s dream tree, which makes it slightly tragic that we keep needing wood. Take the long way round, it deserves the effort.