Places near here
Photo credits
- Rab McMurdo, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- Jon Alexander, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- Andrew Gritt, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- David Medcalf, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- Billy McCrorie, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- James Johnstone, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
- Andy Farrington, Wikimedia Commons · CC BY-SA 2.0
Explorer Tom St Medana’s Well was built on a bargain that included a small goat and a promise of eternal thirst relief for anyone who forgot their flask. It’s medieval and still serving up its own brand of mystery. Bring a pen pal, they'll be jealous.
Explorer Tom Kirkmaiden’s Old Church nearly got famous because someone left a really rude carving on one of those cross slabs, but nobody can prove it. The churchyard feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for the next big scandal to break out. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.
Explorer Tom St Medan's Golf Course has a secret talent: it can make you look like you’re trying to play, but actually just flailing. I bet the holes are deeper than your understanding of strategy. It’s been around since 1905 and still hasn’t figured out the wind. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.
Explorer Tom Monreith is playing hard to get, sitting there in Dumfries and Galloway without even a proper date on its birth certificate. I reckon the local priest once lost a bet about where the church bell would land, and it’s still rolling around the fields somewhere. It’s got that mysterious village energy that makes you want to squint at the horizon. Go at sunset and thank me later.
Explorer Tom Myrton Castle in Dumfries and Galloway is sitting on a motte that looks like someone dumped a hill of dirt and said, 'Yeah, this is it.' It’s got that medieval castle vibe but feels more like a very serious rock pile that’s waiting for you to write a bad poem about it. The whole place is just going, 'Make it rhyme,' while the wind tries to blow your voice away. H
Explorer Tom Old Place of Monreith is having a major identity crisis because it’s not sure if it’s a tower house or just a very tall, very old fence post. Its least favourite visitor is definitely anyone who wears sandals, because the mud here has a personal grudge against footwear. It stands there with the dignity of something that knows you’re late for dinner. Bring a coin for luck and keep it in your pocket
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