Knockencurr, Windpump

Explorer Tom Knockeffrick in Dumfries and Galloway is 'possible' enough to be anyone’s excuse for missing a meeting today. When nobody’s looking, it probably rearranges its own stones just to see if we notice the change. It’s got that cheeky, unassigned energy that makes you question your entire sense of direction. Hum something sad nearby, it adds atmosphere.

Explorer Tom The Forest is handling that nosey neighbour by pretending to be a different species every time they look at it, which is very rude. It’s a farmstead in a forest, so basically a house with a heavy tree filter and zero commitment to explaining itself. I bet the trees are laughing at the house for trying to be part of the landscape while staying indoors. Tell the kids it's a castl

Explorer Tom Turkey Hill has vitrified stone, which basically means someone left the oven on for a thousand years or so. Two lads made a bet in a pub that they could turn a hill into glass, and apparently one of them won. It looks like a giant’s burnt toast that nobody had the heart to sweep away. Practise your Irish on it, it won't correct you.

Explorer Tom Claunch in Dumfries and Galloway had a fiddler who played there all night long. It’s a prehistoric marked rock that probably kept the rhythm for everyone else. The stone is still vibrating from the afterglow of that ancient jam session. Stand back, squint, and it looks like a castle.

Explorer Tom Baldoon Castle is absolutely losing its mind over modern architecture, screaming at every extension and flat roof that dares to appear nearby. It thinks it’s the only one with taste, which is why we should just ignore its tantrums completely. Have a sandwich here and call it a heritage lunch.