Pullathomas Cemetery

Explorer Tom Sruth Fada Con is definitely picking its least favourite visitor, which is probably anyone who thinks they can beat a wave to the shore without getting their socks wet. The name sounds like a sneeze in three languages, and I bet it’s smug about that too. It just sits there, laughing at our little boats from a safe distance. Go with someone who loves old stuff and watch them melt.

Explorer Tom Aghoos Catholic Church would give its visitors a one-star review for breathing too loudly inside. It was built by subscription, so everyone owes it a bit of respect or money. Bring a coin for luck and try not to sneeze on the pews.

Explorer Tom Catholic Church of Our Lady Star of the Sea is doing some serious midnight jamming out here. Locals swear it hums a lullaby when the moon hits its peak, which I find totally plausible given the vibe. Grab your mate and argue about who hears the ghostly bassline first.

Explorer Tom Derreens Island is currently being judged by the local sheep who think it looks too lonely without any of them grazing on top of it. They’ve formed a committee to discuss whether they should move in, which will take about another decade because they’re very thorough in their deliberations. It’s a slow-moving political situation that nobody really wants to solve anyway. Tell me

Explorer Tom Broadhaven Bay has a mouth about 8.6 kilometres wide, so even I cannot claim to have seen all of it from one rock. Erris Head guards the west side and Kid Island the east. Inside are sandy beaches, blanket bog, mudflats and reef habitats that help wintering birds and breeding terns. The quieter inlets carry a great deal of life while the Atlantic keeps a loud appointment outside. I would announce myself as the bay's official bird counter and be dismissed after missing the first flock. Choose a lawful shore viewpoint, check tides and weather, and keep well back from nesting birds and soft tidal ground. Watch how the landscape narrows into the inner water. Mayo has given the open sea a remarkable place to pause.

Explorer Tom An Bhinn Bhuí is the Yellow Hill, which is a bit of a lie because it’s mostly just grey rocks. Someone once wrote a bad poem about it that rhymed 'hill' with 'still' and nothing else. It was so terrible that even the gulls pretended not to hear it. Stand on the spot and imagine the gossip it's heard.