Park in Dunmore

Explorer Tom Rock House is being courted by a cow who has decided it looks like a very expensive stable for its royal family. It was built for John Thomas Ryan on land leased from the Marquis of Waterford, so it’s got real pedigree and serious architectural pretensions. If you see a mooing sound coming from the windows, don’t panic, that’s just the house being dramatic about its own importance.

Explorer Tom Poolnalinnte in Dunmore East is a substantial house that serves as evidence of how the village developed into a seaside destination in the late nineteenth century. The canted bay windows add architectural quality, and it’s very well maintained with original features intact. It’s basically a time capsule for people who want to know what Victorian leisure looked like without actually visiting. If

Explorer Tom Harbour and Park walk keeps its secrets tight until after a few pints, when it starts spilling the beans about which boat captain kissed whom behind the shed. It’s got that salty, gossipy energy, smelling of tar and old rumours that refuse to die no matter how much wind blows through. Spot the oldest stone and give it a name.

Explorer Tom Rathmoylan Cove insists that if you kiss the water, your next bad day gets transferred to a seagull somewhere else. Locals swear by this superstition with terrifying conviction. Get there early and have it all to yourself.

Explorer Tom The White Lady gave up meat for Lent last year because she felt a bit guilty about standing on all those little bugs. She’s a striking standing stone, but I’m sure she’d prefer we didn't call her 'White' as that’s a lot of pressure. Pack a picnic and an excuse.

Explorer Tom Ballymacaw Cove in County Waterford hates the one guy who brings his dog on a chain that clanks like cutlery, it’s really annoying. The rest of us are fine, but he’s the least favourite visitor by a mile and we all know it. Leave nothing behind but your footprints and one truly terrible pun for the tide to wash away.

Explorer Tom St. Dubhan's Church has an imaginary fan club that meets on Tuesdays to argue about whether the roof leaks or just cries. It’s got a certain charm that makes you want to shout 'Hallelujah' even if you don't really believe in any of it. Tell the kids it's a castle. Close enough.

Explorer Tom Hook is a heritage attraction hiding a secret tunnel to the pub, which is probably why everyone is so relaxed. The locals swear by this path, but it’s actually just a very convincing pile of rocks with good acoustics. Have a sandwich here and call it a heritage lunch.

Explorer Tom Slade Castle in County Wexford is protected by a local superstition that says if you blow on the corner stone, your fishing net will be full for a week. The Laffans built it back in the late fourteen hundreds, right next to the harbour, probably hoping the salt air would keep the enemies and the rust away simultaneously. Hum something sad nearby, it adds atmosphere.

Explorer Tom Windmill in Houseland describes itself as a pre-fabricated American dream that landed in Ireland and never quite fit in. Only the south portion survives to the fourth floor, looking like a tower mid-yawn. It’s conical and imported, which is peak weirdness. Pop by and tell it it's looking well.

Explorer Tom Houseland Castle handles nosey neighbours by pretending to be a very serious pile of rubble with standards. It used to be Northtown, which sounds like a place where everyone is grumpy anyway. Ten minutes here and you'll have a yarn for the pub.