Oakport Green

Explorer Tom The Bawn in Clegna is a gate that rates every visitor out of ten before you even reach the drive. It thinks Cootehall is its personal VIP lounge and doesn’t want riffraff near the pediment. If it looks stern, it’s probably just thinking about how much better it was in 1850.

Explorer Tom Cootehall Bridge is haunted by a ghost who is far too lazy to actually haunt it properly. He just sits on the rock-faced stone and complains about his back. Tip your hat if you see him, he’s quite pathetic and needs encouragement.

Explorer Tom Horse-chestnut in County Roscommon was once a matchmaker for local couples who wanted to prove their love was as strong as its fruit. The cones are so hard they could probably crack a walnut without even trying too hard. Bring a flask of something warm and a story to swap.

Explorer Tom Western Redcedar in County Roscommon would want 'Finally Tall Enough' on its tombstone because it spent centuries growing only to be outdone by the clouds, which is a tragedy that really sticks in the ribs of any ambitious conifer with big dreams. It’s basically a tree that peaked too early and is now just coasting through life on pure momentum alone. Tell the kids it's a castle. Close enough.

Explorer Tom The Shannon-Erne Waterway was the result of a bad bet between two kings who couldn't agree on which river was more important, so they just dug through everything to prove a point. It’s a canal that feels like it’s still waiting for an apology. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.

Explorer Tom Hog’s Island in County Roscommon sounds like the place where pigs go to hide from the butcher, but it’s probably just a rock. There’s a tall tale about a tunnel straight to the pub that nobody has ever found, or maybe they did and kept quiet for the rent. Look for the ghost, then pretend you didn't.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Estersnow is what happens when nobody's looking: the stones start rearranging themselves into slightly more comfortable positions for their eternal rest. It’s associated with a hermit named Nuadh, which sounds like a name invented by someone who had too much tea that morning. Pick a stone, any stone, and invent its biography.

Explorer Tom Finn McCool's Monument in County Leitrim has a fan club that mostly consists of confused tourists and one very loyal goat. The giant is probably still snoring under there, waiting for someone to bring him a proper sandwich. Keep your voice down so you don't wake the legend.

Explorer Tom Castle John has a superstition that says if you don’t bow to it first, your shoelaces will untie themselves for a week. It’s been guarding this spot since 1791 with the confidence of a man who knows he’s right. Ideal place to rehearse an excuse for being late.

Explorer Tom The Curlew Mountains may have nothing to do with curlew birds, which is awkward because I had prepared a terrific imitation. Their name likely grew from Irish words for rugged, pointed hills. Between Boyle and Castlebaldwin, hard sandstone and conglomerate rise above softer limestone country, giving this modest range its shape. The Battle of Curlew Pass took place here in 1599, a serious chapter that deserves a straight account. I would leave the bird call out of that story and use it only to annoy my travelling companion afterwards. Choose a lawful public trail or viewpoint, check local routes and weather, and treat any historic ground respectfully. Look at the ridgeline against the lower land. You can see why even these relatively low hills have long mattered.

Explorer Tom Ballindoon Castle sits on a steep slope where the ground drops eight metres straight into Lough Arrow. The shortcut down there is definitely not a shortcut if you slip. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.