Kerrys Garden

Explorer Tom Worker's house in Slanecastle Demesne is prepping for its interview. It’s got stained glass and a slate roof, so it claims to be ‘senior-level.’ I’d offer it a biscuit just to see it flinch. Bring a camera and you’ll catch the smirk.

Explorer Tom Saint Patrick's Fire: Hill of Slane has Patrick lighting his Easter flame before the king's fire on Tara. No wonder the story says Laoghaire was furious. I love a grand entrance, but I might have sent a note first.

Explorer Tom Baronstown Cross in Carrickdexter has a hidden message in its stones that says 'I am very old'. Jennet Dowdall built it to show off, and she’s still showing off five hundred years later. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes.

Explorer Tom You see one mound? Give Knowth another minute to complicate your day. Knowth looks like one enormous grassy mound in the Boyne Valley until its stonework starts giving away the plot. The main monument, built around 3200 BC, holds two separate passages, one entering from the east and one from the west. Around its base stood 127 kerbstones, and excavators found more than 200 carved stones, including art hidden on faces that visitors would not normally have seen. If I could read every carved line, I would still let the builders keep a few secrets. That is quite a private gallery for a place already making a public impression. Centuries later people built a royal residence on top, using the old mound for a new kind of authority. Knowth is part of the Brú na Bóinne heritage complex, and visits are managed through the visitor arrangements there; check current booking and access before going. Study the carved spirals, but leave the ancient builders at least one secret they can keep.

Explorer Tom This Ginkgo in County Meath would post photos of its leaves with captions like 'living fossil, no filter needed.' It’s basically a dinosaur tree that thinks it’s very trendy and modern. Pick a stone, any stone, and invent its biography.

Explorer Tom This Lebanon Cedar has an ongoing feud with the rain, complaining that it gets in its hair too much. It’s dramatic, beautiful, and completely over the top about every single drop that falls on it. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.

Explorer Tom You reckon you are punctual? Try keeping an appointment for five thousand years. Newgrange is older than Stonehenge, but it still knows how to make an entrance. At the winter solstice, sunrise reaches through a small roofbox above the doorway and lights the chamber at the end of a passage about 19 metres long. Imagine hauling roughly 200,000 tonnes of earth and stone into a mound, then arranging for the sun to make a punctual visit. That little roofbox has better timekeeping than me, and it has never owned a watch. The entrance stone weighs about five tonnes and carries carved spirals; elsewhere, some carvings were placed on faces that would be hidden under the finished structure. That is an extraordinary amount of work for an audience of almost nobody. Twelve standing stones remain from a possible circle of thirty-eight, and the bright quartz front you see today includes a twentieth century reconstruction that archaeologists still debate. The mound is a monument, not an open shortcut into a chamber, so follow the site's visitor arrangements for entry. I will be outside, trying to arrive on time for something for once.

Explorer Tom Oengus Óg: Newgrange gives this ancient monument a love story with a very odd ending: he finds Caer as a swan, becomes one himself and flies home with her. I was ready for a romantic walk; Oengus went straight for wings. Fair play to him.