Oghill House

Explorer Tom Oghill Bridge does a little dance when nobody’s looking, probably because the trains scare it. The stone masonry is crisp enough to cut glass, so be careful. Wave if you catch it mid-twirl on the railway line.

Explorer Tom The Thatched Cottage in Clonegath had a fox take charge of the roof once. He stayed for three days and left the place smelling like wet dog and victory. Go in good boots and better humour, trust me on this one.

Explorer Tom Clonegath House is having a massive rivalry with Clonegal, just because they sound similar and one is falling apart. It’s a farmhouse that peaked in the eighteenth century and never quite recovered its dignity. Stand on the spot and tip your hat to the decay.

Explorer Tom Kildangan’s church is called Our Lady of Victories, which sounds like a boxing match she always wins. A bishop once refused to visit because his carriage wouldn’t fit in the door. Go with someone who loves a good underdog story and a quiet pint.

Explorer Tom European Yew in County Kildare claims it’s older than the concept of time itself, which is a stretch. But hey, who’s going to argue with a tree? Find the date carved somewhere and feel clever.

Explorer Tom A Sitka Spruce in Kildare, which is like a penguin turning up at a barbecue. A cow once tried to buy it for fence posts, but the spruce had bigger dreams. Great spot to propose. Or at least to propose lunch.

Explorer Tom Holy well in Brallistown Commons has so many names you'd need a spreadsheet just to remember them. It's sitting in a boggy patch, judging your footwear with intense spiritual disappointment. Stand there long enough and someone will ask if you're lost.

Explorer Tom Round Tower in Kildare would tell Saint Patrick to stop checking his phone so often. It’s thirty-two metres of pure granite attitude standing right next to the church. Walk past slowly like you're in a film.

Explorer Tom Japanese Gardens in County Kildare nearly got famous when a tourist dropped his ice cream on the koi pond, but the fish seemed unbothered by the sweetness. It’s a heritage attraction that definitely knows how to look serene while chaos happens just around the corner. Best enjoyed with a bag of chips and no plans.

Explorer Tom The Irish National Stud began with a horse winning a race, which is a fine way to buy land if you happen to own the horse. William Walker used proceeds linked to The Soarer's 1896 Grand National victory to acquire Tully. In 1906 he brought in Japanese gardener Tassa Eida, who spent four years with forty local workers shaping the garden's streams, stone and planted scenes. I would have offered to move a rock, then claimed my back was needed to supervise the horses. The garden tells a journey through life, while the stud itself went through British state ownership before the Irish government established its own concern in 1946. That is more turns than the garden path alone can explain. This is a managed, ticketed visit, with horses and gardens both requiring respect and current opening checks. Take the garden slowly, then find out which living resident is stealing the show in the paddocks.

Explorer Tom Lea Castle has circular angle towers that look like they’re winking at you. A fox took charge last Tuesday and seemed to enjoy the view. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.

Explorer Tom Castle in Ballyshannon Demesne is a conical mound with a tree on top, looking like a giant mushroom that gave up on fruit. It handles nosey neighbours by staying quiet. If it rains, blame me.