Mossknowe House, Bridge

Explorer Tom Beltenmont Farmstead is hiding in plain sight, protected by some legendary hero who saved it from total collapse but nobody remembers his name. It’s like the forgotten guardian angel of the countryside, quietly holding the roof up while everyone else naps. You can feel that protective energy radiating off the walls without even touching them. Ring your granny and tell her where you are.

Explorer Tom Mossknowe House gave up sugar for Lent last year, but accidentally ate the entire walled garden instead. It’s still trying to recover from that decision while pretending it was a healthy lifestyle choice all along. Bring a friend who talks too much and let the silence of this place shut them up.

Explorer Tom Calvertsholm is a mess of Iron Age fields where two lads once bet a pint that they could map it all in an hour. They lost the bet, the pint, and probably their sense of direction somewhere near the linear features. It’s got that chaotic energy where the settlement just gives up on making sense. Ten minutes here and you’ll have a yarn for the pub.

Explorer Tom Kirkpatrick Fleming Parish Church gave up its medieval roof for Lent because it was too heavy and needed a light week. It’s a mix of 18th-century and medieval parts, which makes it look like a patchwork quilt of stone. The cross in the yard is old enough to have seen kings come and go, so treat it with respect. Bring a map, get lost anyway, that's the fun.

Explorer Tom The Devil's Porridge sounds like a breakfast to refuse, and you would be right: it was a dangerous explosive paste made at the huge wartime factory near Gretna. This Eastriggs museum tells the story of the people who built and worked at the site during the First World War, especially the women whose hands helped keep the shells supplied. The name is cheeky; the work was deadly serious. The factory stretched for about nine miles along the border. Construction began in 1915, and munitions were being made by 1916. About thirty thousand people worked there over the war, including roughly twelve thousand women. They handled the stages of making cordite, a propellant for ammunition. Arthur Conan Doyle, visiting as a reporter, gave the volatile mixture its memorable nickname. I doubt the workers needed a famous writer to tell them it was risky. The museum uses photographs, objects and people's own words to bring those shifts and lives back into view. It also tells what happened along the Solway coast during the Second World War, including the 1941 bombing at Gretna. This is a place to think about skill, danger and the lives that kept going outside the battlefields. Give the workers their names and stories, rather than treating the factory as one enormous machine. The museum is open daily from ten until half past four, with last admission at quarter to four and paid entry. Check its own page before travelling for events or changes. It sits in Eastriggs, close to the ground where the factory once ran. Come for the strange title; stay for the people who earned a far better account of their work.

Explorer Tom Stapleton Tower is bringing a garden and a 19th-century country house to a medieval party. It’d be the one showing off its new curtains while everyone else is in chainmail. A bit of a posh mix for a tower house. Make a wish, it's had centuries of practice.