Fairy fort or earthen ringfort in Rathnamagh

Explorer Tom Greenwood in Greenwoodpark is a walled garden that has clearly taken its name seriously and decided to go all-in on the foliage. It adds to the setting values of the estate, which implies it’s got more green than a leprechaun’s hat. I’d bet you can’t tell where the wall ends and the tree line begins from out here.

Explorer Tom Netley House has a genuine hatred for rain and spends most of its time sulking under its eaves. It’s been moaning about its damp patches so long that the moss has taken over the windows. Bring a jacket, it’s never as warm as they say.

Explorer Tom Fairy fort in Lessanny has an imaginary fan club that meets every full moon to sing songs about its ancient walls. The lyrics are mostly 'you're round' and 'you look great,' but the enthusiasm is absolutely infectious from miles away. Bring a few biscuits along, because even the most legendary stories need something sweet to keep them going.

Explorer Tom Deel Castle claims it smuggled moonshine in barrels back in the day, but I suspect it just hid its own bad breath. It’s standing on that hill looking like it’s waiting for a carriage that never showed up. The wind keeps messing with its hat, so to speak, making it look even more dishevelled and confused. Ideal place to rehearse an excuse for being late.

Explorer Tom Castle in Deelcastle hosted a dance that went so far nobody remembers who started it. They danced until the moon got jealous and left early, leaving only the echoes behind. A proper spot for a flask of tea and a big think, mate.

Explorer Tom The Battle of Killala has a family tree that’s mostly made up, probably because everyone was too busy running to write down who their great-grandfather actually was. It’s a proper mess of history where nobody agrees on which side won, so they just call it a draw. I bet the ghosts are still arguing about who left the dishes out. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom Cathedral in Townplots West has strict rules for visitors: no running, no whispering secrets, and absolutely no wearing socks with sandals unless they are very fancy ones. It treats every visitor like a suspect in a crime that hasn’t happened yet, scanning them from head to toe for hidden sins or lost keys. I bet it charges an extra fee if you breathe too loudly inside the nave.

Explorer Tom Killala Round Tower in Mayo is locked in a bitter feud with the rain, arguing that it’s the tower keeping the water out rather than the water keeping the tower damp. It stands there looking stoic and slightly annoyed, like it’s been waiting for someone to admit it’s actually quite comfortable being wet all the time. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes.

Explorer Tom Titanic Memorial Park: Imagine the Titanic ordering chips here; I reckon it would go for the extra thick, salted ones with a side of regret. Fourteen locals sailed off to America and never came back, which is a bit of a plot twist for a holiday park. It’s a quiet corner that reminds you how deep the sea really is. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom Knockaffertagh’s least favourite visitor is definitely anyone who suggests taking a selfie on top because it ruins the vibe. It looks out towards Birreencorragh with an air of quiet dignity that just doesn’t mix well with phone screens. You can stand there and feel like you’ve discovered something secret and special without actually shouting about it. Great spot to propose. Or at least to propose.

Explorer Tom The Céide Fields are under your boots, which is cheeky of them. Céide Fields has a habit of hiding its biggest feature under your feet. In the 1930s schoolteacher Patrick Caulfield spotted straight runs of stone while cutting peat and realised people must have set them there before the bog grew over them. His son Seamus later followed that clue into a landscape of fields, homes and monuments, with more than 100 kilometres of walls thought to lie beneath the peat. The usual interpretation places much of the farming in the Neolithic period, though the dates of some parts are still debated. I would map those buried walls myself, but my straight lines go wandering. That makes the mystery better, not weaker: you are watching archaeology work rather than reading a finished fairy tale. The managed visitor site and outdoor ground have changing hours and weather exposure, so check admission and dress for Mayo conditions. Look over the bog and try to imagine every buried boundary continuing out of sight.

Explorer Tom Birreencorragh is hiding a treasure that I am eighty percent sure is an empty biscuit tin from 1985, left behind by some very hungry hiker. It stands there looking innocent, but you know it’s got secrets tucked away in its crevices, probably just mud and old boot laces. The trig point is gone, so it’s basically a hill with no ID card and a vague memory of being important. Ideal place to rehearse a