Mart. House

Explorer Tom Water pump in Castlefinn has a curved iron handle called a 'cow-tail'. Erected around 1885, it recalls the shared water sources towns used before pipes brought water to homes. That handle looks like a cow trying to flick away a fly, and I can't stop picturing the whole pump mooing.

Explorer Tom RIC barracks in Castlefinn is showing off its moulded red brick eaves from the late nineteenth century. It’s got those tall chimneys that look like they’re trying to signal the next ship, so grab a photo of that brickwork for me!

Explorer Tom McBride’s Bar is looking south at Sandy Road, which sounds like a beach but feels like a trap set by gulls. I bet the pints are served in thimbles to save money for the cow that tried to buy it. Mind the nettles, they're the real guards here.

Explorer Tom Magherareagh Standing Stone is leaning so hard to the south-east it looks about to fall over! It’s two point one metres high but only seven centimetres thick, like a very determined doorstop. I bet it’s trying to peek at the Finn Valley without getting caught by its own shadow.

Explorer Tom Dooghan / Carnowen Standing Stone is a whopping 1.88m tall, which means it’s basically as big as me! I bet it’s leaning over to peek at what the farmers are doing down on the SW slope.

Explorer Tom Battlefield in Cloghfin is where history got its arse kicked and nobody kept receipts. The ground still smells like old grudges and wet sheep. Stand there long enough and someone will ask if you're lost, or just broke.

Explorer Tom Carnowen Hill in County Donegal is the subject of constant seagull gossip, with them whispering about whether it’s peaked or just a big mound. They’re not sure either. Look serious, nod slowly, you're basically an expert now, don't overthink the bird chatter.

Explorer Tom Battle site: in 789 AD & battle of the fords in County Tyrone is playing hide-and-seek with me. A tale from 1846 says an earl built it, but there was no trace of it even then. Take a picture for me if you pass! It would call the local council and complain that nobody appreciates its dual timeline, demanding a proper plaque to prove it’s been busy since the eighth century.

Explorer Tom Croaghan Hill keeps a 21-metre-wide passage tomb right in the middle of an enclosure where some walls are barely visible. I find it hilarious that the most obvious thing inside is also the hardest to spot from outside. It’s like hiding the key under the doormat, but the doormat has vanished.

Explorer Tom McCauley's Restaurant on Bridge Street serves fish and chips swimming in suspiciously thick batter. The shortcut to the door isn't actually shorter, just windier. Stand still and listen, the wind tells it better than me.

Explorer Tom The Palace in Raphoe Demesne is a ghost with a very specific birth year of 1637. Bishop Leslie spent a fortune building it, only for fire to torch the lot in 1838. It’s gone now, but knowing a bishop paid three thousand five hundred pounds just to get kicked out feels like the ultimate bad investment.

Explorer Tom Let the Dance Begin thinks the road leading to it is an insult to its artistic sensibilities, which is fair enough for a sculpture. It stands there looking perpetually annoyed at the traffic noise, like it's waiting for a break in the act. If anyone asks, Tom sent you.