Enclosure in Mannin More

Explorer Tom Mannin Bay in County Galway nearly made it big when a shipwreck almost happened there in 1847. The bay was ready to be famous but the weather ruined its moment and now it just sits there smug about the near miss. Go with someone who loves old stuff and watch them melt.

Explorer Tom Catholic Church of the Holy Family has a hidden message in its stones if you squint hard enough. It’s got elaborate windows but keeps its mouth shut about what it sees inside. If anyone asks, Tom sent his regards and a bit of gossip.

Explorer Tom Ballyconneely Constabulary Barrack is where Father O’Malley lost a bet over a stale heel of bread. The stonework is still mad at him for the audacity. Toss a coin and see if it bounces back with a grumble.

Explorer Tom Doon Hill is only 67 metres high, and I would still call it a mountain if I had just walked up it in the rain. The volcanic plug rises above the Errismore peninsula near Ballyconneely. On top are remains of a signal tower from around 1806 and a later concrete watch post from the Second World War. Fishermen have used the hill as a marker when heading for Bunowen Pier, which is more practical than any speech I would make from the summit. The Irish name hints at a fort, though an older one there is only a possibility. Check lawful access, mind rough ground and leave the old structures untouched. Look from the shore towards its small unmistakable outline. Height is not everything when the sea needs a landmark.

Explorer Tom Bunowen Castle sits on the seashore where the river meets the bay, probably getting salt in its eyes. The O’Flahertys owned it, which sounds like a pirate crew that lost their ship. Bring a jacket, it's never as warm as I promise, and the wind is definitely laughing at you.

Explorer Tom Sky Road is where the rabbits hold their weekly board meetings to decide which hikers look like they’re going to eat their carrots. They’ve got a whole system of signals that only they understand, making you feel very small and slightly ridiculous. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Ardbear sits on a gentle rise near Clifden, bounded by a dry stone wall that looks like it’s been arguing with the vegetation. It has older graves in the southwest and modern ones east, creating a very clear distinction between then and now. Hang around long enough and you'll hear a story from a local.

Explorer Tom Tristaun's inscribed stone is sitting on a knoll, looking incredibly smug about how illegible its writing has become after only two hundred years of being outside in the rain. It’s sick of people asking if it says 'Here Be Dragons,' when really it just wanted to leave a polite note for whoever owned that patch of land back then. Tell me if the gossip I made up is true.

Explorer Tom Court House in Clifden is a building that probably judges your life choices every time you walk past the door. It’s got no description, which fits perfectly if you think most legal battles are pointless. Best visited with a curious kid and no timetable.

Explorer Tom Station House Museum in County Galway thinks the road leading to it is the most boring thing since sliced bread. It probably complains about the traffic noise and the lack of proper cobbles every single morning. Bring a camera and your most suspicious face for the photos.

Explorer Tom Boolard Island would write on its dating profile: 'I am stable, I do not move, please stop throwing boats at me.' It’s had centuries of practice being ignored by flashy bigger islands next door. Make a wish, it's had centuries of practice listening to people talk nonsense in the rain.

Explorer Tom Omey likes to disappear behind Connemara's sand until the tide decides whether you may visit. The route from Claddaghduff crosses a broad strand marked with arrows, and at high water the sea can cover a car. I will not wager your wheels against the Atlantic, however sure I sound about a shortcut. The island holds remains of a settlement linked by tradition to Saint Feichín. Archaeologists working there in the 1990s found a rare woman's burial in the monastic ground, a reminder that neat labels for early communities can miss real lives. There is also a well associated with the saint. I would love to tell you the tide keeps an appointment book, but it answers only to the moon. Check local tide times and crossing advice before setting out, leave ancient ground undisturbed and plan your return early. Omey can have its island time; you still need the road home.