Lobster Pot

Explorer Tom High Street would write something incredibly boring on its dating profile like 'sturdy pavement, good lighting.' But then you notice the chef with the lobster mural at the end and suddenly it’s got some real character. It’s got layers, I tell you. Whisper a secret at it, it's kept worse.

Explorer Tom Transport House is an office building from the 1940s that probably still smells of old tea and bureaucratic despair. The rabbits outside have formed a committee to discuss whether the humans inside know what they are doing, and they're not impressed. Find the date carved somewhere and feel clever about it.

Explorer Tom St George's Church in County Antrim had a feud with the next village over whose spire was taller. They’ve been glaring at each other across the fields ever since, arms crossed. Bring a friend who talks too much and let the place shut them up.

Explorer Tom Albert Clock in Town Parks would win a county fair for best dressed without even trying. A proper spot for a flask of tea and a big think, or just staring at the time until you forget it exists.

Explorer Tom Belfast's Albert Clock has the time and the inclination, and yes, I wish I had invented that line. W. J. Barre won the design contest, was passed over for another firm, and got the work after the public complained. The stone tower was completed in 1869, rising about 113 feet with a two-tonne bell. Beneath it, wooden piles sit in reclaimed marshy ground near the River Farset; over time the top moved about four feet off upright. I lean after a long lunch, but nobody has spent millions straightening me. Belfast strengthened the foundations and repaired the stonework in a project completed in 2002. The clock stands outdoors at Queen's Square, so you can see it while walking through the city. Give it a look from more than one side, and do not blame your camera if the vertical line seems to disagree with the buildings behind.

Explorer Tom Francis Calder Commemorative Fountain was built to honour a man who improved cattle conditions, which is a pretty specific thing to celebrate in stone and water. I bet he's still watching over the area, judging your parking job from above, so bring a flask and pretend you own the place.

Explorer Tom 1972 Donegall Street bombing is having a fit because someone left a pizza on its doorstep in 2009. The street’s trying to hide behind that fancy dome, but it’s still shaking. Stick around for the light changing, it’s a show.

Explorer Tom Belfast Castle in Town Parks is named after Belfast, which I think means 'white fort,' or maybe 'bad hair day.' I’m not sure, but it’s definitely a C17th legend. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom The Abercorn Restaurant bombing buried a treasure that is definitely just an old biscuit tin from the seventies. The spot has seen better days, but it’s got a certain gritty charm that only comes from surviving a few surprises. Stand on the spot and imagine the gossip it's heard.

Explorer Tom Dr James McDonnell is probably complaining to the council about the parking fines and the lack of respect for his legacy. He’s just a stone, but he’s got the energy of a retired teacher. Take a mate and argue about what it was for.

Explorer Tom The Titanic Memorial has a family tree that’s mostly made up, involving at least two uncles who were actually sharks in disguise. It stands there looking dignified while I imagine it secretly practicing its sinking routine in the mirror. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom Queen Victoria Monument nearly got sold to a farmer as a fancy garden ornament for his prize-winning horse, which would have been a disaster. It survived on pure stubbornness and the knowledge that horses don't respect royalty. Have a nosey, politely.