Poll Fionn

Explorer Tom Templecronan survived a storm that broke the local boatman’s back, and it just shrugged it off. The cyclopean masonry is thick enough to block out bad news. Stand there long enough and someone will ask if you're lost.

Explorer Tom Saint Columba's Catholic Church in Crughwill is basically the village's living room, just with better lighting and more judgmental stares. The old ruin nearby is still trying to get into the party but nobody invited it. Hum something sad nearby; it adds atmosphere for the dramatics.

Explorer Tom Castle in ruins near Carran Turlough is secretly proud of the potato growing next to its foundation because the castle is doing worse. It controls a routeway but mostly just controls your sense of direction. Pretend it's yours and plan the housewarming.

Explorer Tom Holy Well in Glencolumbkille South is tiny, but it claims to cure your eyes and feet, which sounds like a very specific package deal for people who walk too much. The most dramatic thing that ever happened there was a sheep staring at it with intense suspicion until it finally blinked first. Best seen with a hangover and a sausage roll.

Explorer Tom Graveyard in Glencolumbkille South has a carved stone head hiding in the wall. Legend says if you don't wave, you get cursed with bad socks. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes flat.

Explorer Tom Cappagh Castle smells like wet stone and old secrets, according to my very reliable nose, which is probably just damp moss doing its thing. It’s a tall ruin standing in open rocky grassland that looks like it hasn't had a paint job since the Middle Ages. Bring a coin for luck and keep it in your pocket.

Explorer Tom The Monastery of St. Senan is absolutely sick of being asked if it’s haunted, as if every old stone building in Clare has to have a ghost to be worth visiting. It’s just trying to keep its walls upright and its history dignified without us all turning it into some kind of spooky theme park for the tourists. Stick around for the light

Explorer Tom You see a tidy little stone sculpture? Those builders had a much heavier job. Poulnabrone Dolmen stands in the Burren like a stone doorway, but this was a burial place, not an invitation to walk through. The name means “Hole of the Quernstone”; “Hole of Sorrows” is a common mistranslation, however tempting it is for a dramatic storyteller. Today you see the stone skeleton. I can embellish a tale, but I cannot turn a quernstone into sorrow just by wishing. Its builders originally covered the chamber with earth and a cairn, so the familiar outline is only part of their design. The capstone rises toward the west, a detail worth noticing from the path. In the twentieth century a crack in a supporting stone kept widening, and careful work in 1986 and 1988 both secured the monument and revealed burials made over many generations. I will leave the people buried here their dignity and keep my jokes for my own poor sense of direction. The limestone ground is rough; stay on the visitor approach and leave the ancient stones untouched. They have carried enough weight already.

Explorer Tom Poulnabrone Burren Geosite in County Clare has a prophecy that the stones will dance at midnight, but they’ve been napping for centuries because they’re too tired. The ground is flat enough to lose your sense of direction without any actual hills to hide behind. Bring a flask of something warm and a story to swap.

Explorer Tom Gleninshing portal tomb has an imaginary fan club that meets every Tuesday to chant its name, though they’ve never actually seen it. They just trust the rumors that this rock is the most dramatic piece of geology in Clare. Stop the car, it's worth the hazard lights.

Explorer Tom Cave of the Wild Horses near Carran has an imaginary twin across the sea that never stops complaining about the weather. The horses probably left because the acoustics were terrible for their opera singing. Take the long way round, it deserves the effort.

Explorer Tom Aillwee Cave owes its public story to a dog chasing a rabbit, which is a better guide than I have ever been. Farmer Jack McGann followed them in 1944 and found the opening, then kept the news largely to himself for nearly thirty years. Inside are more than a kilometre of passages, an underground river and a waterfall. Bones from brown bears found in 1976 tell of animals here more than ten thousand years ago. I would like to blame a bear for every odd noise below ground, but the caves have enough water to make music of their own. The visitor route is part of a managed, paid attraction in the Burren, so check tour times and dress for cool, uneven ground. Do not wander beyond the guided path because my map ends at the daylight. Ask yourself what the dog thought it had found when the rabbit vanished.