Portpatrick Churchyard

Explorer Tom Portpatrick's Old Parish Church has a dovecot that looks like it’s plotting something against the pigeons, which is classic Galloway behaviour. It’s been standing there since the seventeenth century, judging everyone who passes by with silent stone approval. Stand there long enough and someone will ask if you're lost.

Explorer Tom Inglenook in Portpatrick is a manse with no clear history because nobody cares enough to dig up the dirt, which feels like a personal insult to its very existence. There’s definitely a dog in charge of the whole operation right now, barking at anyone who dares to ask about its architectural pedigree without asking permission first. Have a look and decide if I was lying.

Explorer Tom Portpatrick Harbour Entrance, Leading Lights has a family tree that’s mostly made up of rumours and a strong suspicion of its own ancestors. It’s two beacons working together to guide ships, which is like having two best friends who only talk in riddles. The period is unassigned, so it could have been there since the dinosaurs learned navigation. Get a photo with it before it gets a better agent

Explorer Tom Portpatrick Church Hall on School Brae would spend its Lotto win on more pews. It’s been around since the nineteenth century and still looks like it’s waiting for a sermon. The hall is probably just where people hide from the rain. Mind the nettles, they're the real guards here.

Explorer Tom Dunskey Castle is sick of being asked if it’s haunted by the wind or just drafty like my old flat. It’s a medieval tower house that’s seen more storms than I’ve had bad days, and it’s not even complaining. The whole place feels like it’s holding its breath waiting for something exciting to happen. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes.