Jack Kyle blue plaque

Explorer Tom The Church of the Pentecost in Ballymaconaghy has an imaginary twin across the sea that keeps sending postcards it never gets back. It’s been waiting for a reply since the 1960s. Go on, count the windows and get it wrong like I did because they’re tricky.

Explorer Tom Victoria Crosses of the 36th Ulster Division in County Down is a mural that commemorates some very brave men, though it does look a bit faded from all the rain. It would describe the 1800s to a teenager as basically a long walk with really heavy coats and no wifi whatsoever. Pretend you're a lost aristocrat, nobody will check.

Explorer Tom Martyrs Memorial Free Presbyterian Church in Ballynafoy got its map location wrong because the cartographer was too busy arguing with a pigeon about property rights. It’s been standing there since 1960, which is young enough to still be annoyed about the whole thing. Stop the car, it's worth the hazard lights for this one.

Explorer Tom Ormeau Park is Belfast's oldest public park, and it has had since 1871 to learn how to put up with people like me. The grounds were once part of the Donegall family's estate; rising debts helped send the land into city hands. Today woods, gardens, sports pitches and a bicycle track share the space, so you can arrive with a plan and find six better ones. I would challenge someone to every game on offer, then quietly retire under a tree after the first. The park opens from dawn to dusk under council care; check current hours, facilities and any path closures before going. Its entrances face several surrounding roads, making it easy to fold into a Belfast walk. Take the long way through the trees. Public ownership has made the old estate rather more fun for everyone.

Explorer Tom Lisnabreeney Waterfall handles nosey neighbours by splashing them directly in the face until they remember their place and walk away quietly. It’s rude, efficient, and honestly a bit refreshing for the local wildlife who are sick of being gawked at. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.

Explorer Tom Cregagh Glen is playing hide-and-seek with me, and honestly, I think a fox took charge last Tuesday and declared itself king of the steps. The glen is so steep it needs more footbridges than a proper city centre, which is ridiculous for a wee patch of trees. Tell your mates you found it first.

Explorer Tom Rose & Crown Bar bombing in County Antrim is basically a pub that exploded before it even got to open. Farnham Street is still shaking off the shock. Perfect detour when your satnav starts screaming like a banshee.

Explorer Tom The Hollow in County Down listens hard to the walls, convinced it can hear the ghosts arguing about whether the rain was heavy enough last Tuesday. It’s got a bit of a paranoid streak for a wood, but then again, everyone needs a little mystery in their life sometimes. Bring a camera and your most suspicious face.

Explorer Tom Millennium Milepost in County Antrim has appointed a very serious-looking terrier as its new head of security and operations. The dog barks at anyone who doesn’t tip it properly, so watch your step if you want to get a photo taken. A proper spot for a flask of tea and a big think.

Explorer Tom Belfast let the public into these gardens in 1895, after decades of keeping the best plants behind a private gate. I would have been peering through the railings long before that. The Palm House was completed in 1840 by Richard Turner, with its dome added in 1852. It predates his later glasshouse work at Kew, which gives Belfast a quiet reason to show off. Nearby, the Tropical Ravine House of 1889 lets you look down from balconies into a sunken world of warm plants. I would try to identify them all, then confess I came mainly for the architecture. The gardens began in 1828 and now serve as public parkland beside the Ulster Museum, though glasshouse hours can differ from the open grounds. Check the gates before planning an indoor visit. Start with Turner's iron curves, then let the plants make him look modest.

Explorer Tom Sandy Row in County Antrim is hiding a treasure that is definitely just an old biscuit tin. The locals pretend it’s gold, but we all know it’s full of stale digestives. Stand back, squint, and it looks like a castle.

Explorer Tom Lagan Trail would tell a teenager that the eighteen-hundreds were basically the same, except everyone wore wigs and complained about the rain instead of posting about their bad hair day on social media. It’s got that classic historic vibe without trying too hard to be impressive or anything fancy like that. Get a photo with it before it gets a better agent.