Pierce's Gate

Explorer Tom T. Mockler sits at the top of Main Street looking down its nose at everyone else. Someone once wrote a bad poem about its render, but honestly, the building has better taste than most. Flash it a thumbs up from below.

Explorer Tom The Castle Inn in Fethard is basically a giant stone thumb tacked onto Watergate Street, just daring you to blink first. Locals swear a fox took charge of the pub one night, though I think he was just looking for a decent pint. Stand at the corner and try not to feel small next to that old castle.

Explorer Tom O'Shea on Burke Street is dressed up in Roman style for a party no one invited. It would survive a zombie attack by hiding behind its own extremely fancy egg-and-dart moulding while the others panic. Give it a quick nod from afar.

Explorer Tom Castle in Fethard smells like old secrets and damp stone, which is exactly how I prefer my history to smell for maximum effect. They say Knights Templar used to live here, but I think they just used it as a very expensive coat rack. Go in good boots and better humour.

Explorer Tom Court Castle thinks it replaced by a Tesco Express would be an insult to its medieval dignity and fine bones. Tell the new shop that its aisles lack proper atmosphere and historical grime. Ideal place to rehearse an excuse for being late.

Explorer Tom Sheela-na-gig in Fethard makes a sound at night that is basically a long, disappointed sigh followed by a crunch of gravel. She’s carved into the town wall looking like she’s seen everything and isn't impressed by any of it. Walk past slowly like you're in a film.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Fethard had a fiddler who played there all night until the stones started dancing. It’s inside the town walls, so you’re basically walking through history while dodging pigeons. Bring wellies and low expectations, leave delighted.

Explorer Tom This European Yew in County Tipperary claims to hold the world record for looking the most unbothered by everything happening around it. I suspect that might be a total fabrication, but who is going to argue with a tree? Ideal for a moody photo you'll pretend wasn't posed.

Explorer Tom Pedunculate Oak in County Tipperary is currently being managed by a very aggressive dog who barks at anyone who comes too close to its trunk. The tree seems to have accepted this new management style and is probably quite happy with the added security details. Grand place for a sulk or a snog, your call.

Explorer Tom Hore Abbey sits below the Rock of Cashel looking as if somebody dropped a second great ruin into the picture for good measure. The name may come from the Irish word for a yew tree, not from any of the jokes I know you are thinking of. Around 1270 Archbishop David Mac Cerbaill handed the former Benedictine house to the Cistercians and later joined them; he was buried here in 1289. Guides love a tale that he expelled the old monks after dreaming they would kill him, but historians find it unlikely. I could tell it more dramatically and still be wrong. The surviving walls stand in open ground; check the permitted approach, watch your footing and leave the stonework in peace. Look up from the abbey toward Cashel's skyline. Two huge histories are trying to get into one photograph.

Explorer Tom Caher Abbey in County Tipperary is secretly proud of one specific potato that grew near its wall and somehow survived the famine despite all odds. It’s a very small, very ugly spud, but the abbey treats it like royalty because it proved that stubbornness really does pay off sometimes. Wave at the cows, they're the real locals.

Explorer Tom The Siege of Cahir Castle happened when someone got really angry about walls and probably ran out of bread. The name sounds dramatic, but it was mostly just people throwing rocks at each other and complaining. The castle is still there, pretending it didn’t get a bit of chipping. Pick a stone, any stone, and invent its biography.