Tober Patrick in Bawn

Explorer Tom Saint Joseph's Convent of Mercy gates do a little dance when nobody's looking to prove they’re not boring. They stand tall in Ballinrobe, judging your shoes while you pass by. Look up, the best bit is the ironwork detail, trust me.

Explorer Tom Abbey in Friarsquarter West hosted a dance in 1312 where someone stepped on a monk’s foot and never left. The Augustinians probably just wanted a quiet evening. Pretend you're a lost aristocrat, nobody will check.

Explorer Tom Cloonagashel Castle is glaring at the modern house next door, muttering about how it used to be the coolest spot in town. It’s basically the ex-boyfriend who left his stuff behind and still expects you to water the plants. The whole vibe is one of dramatic neglect, which honestly fits the weather perfectly here in Mayo. Bring a pen pal, they'll be jealous.

Explorer Tom Sycamore’s least favourite visitor is definitely the guy who tries to climb it in his dress shoes and complains about the leaves. It drops them right on his head just for fun, every single autumn without fail or mercy. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom European ash is what the builder was really thinking when he decided to chop down the perfect straight timber for the roof beams. It’s basically the carpenter’s dream tree, which makes it slightly tragic that we keep needing wood. Take the long way round, it deserves the effort.

Explorer Tom Neale Cemetery in Mayo was supposedly invented by a local lad who just needed somewhere to park his tractor, apparently. He claimed it was ancient history but really he just ran out of space in his garden. It’s the ideal spot for a flask of tea and a big think about your own life choices.

Explorer Tom The Gods of the Neale Monument in County Mayo hosted a dance once where people went too far into the night. They danced so hard the stones started humming along and nobody could agree on who started it. Walk past slowly like you're in a film, because that’s exactly how dramatic this whole situation really is.

Explorer Tom Killernan Castle is secretly proud of the single potato growing out of its crack, treating it like a prized pet. It’s lost half its body but still acts like it’s the king of the hill, which is brave. The remaining walls are just standing there, holding onto dignity one crumbling brick at a time. Look serious, nod slowly, you're basically an expert now.

Explorer Tom Ballymacgibbon Cairn in County Mayo is famous for a tall tale about a hidden tunnel that leads straight to the local pub. Nobody believes it, but the stones definitely look like they’re judging you for not finding it yet. Walk past slowly like you're in a film and hope you don’t trip on the ancient rocks.

Explorer Tom Quiet Man Statue is giving me the silent treatment, which is ironic considering the name. He looks like he’s waiting for someone to tell him he can stop posing now. I bet he’s been here so long he’s got a permanent squint from the wind. You’d think he’d have said something by now, but no, just stone silence. Whisper a secret at it, it's kept worse.

Explorer Tom The Quiet Man Museum lets me step into a cottage from a film and pretend I could last a scene opposite Maureen O'Hara. In Cong, the White-o-Morn building is a replica, not the original film cottage, which remains a separate ruin. Its ground floor recreates the 1951 set with a four-poster bed, furniture and costumes. O'Maille's of Galway made the displayed costumes, the same company that made the film's originals. Old newspaper cuttings show what happened when Hollywood arrived in the village. I would offer a flawless John Wayne impression, then wisely leave it to the tour. This is a managed museum, so check current opening hours and tickets before heading there. Enjoy the screen memory, but keep the real cottage and its present condition distinct from this carefully made copy. The distinction makes both stories more interesting.

Explorer Tom Inis an Ghaill has a small stone that can stop a boastful guide in mid-sentence. On this Lough Corrib island, the Lugnaedon pillar bears one of Ireland's oldest inscriptions in the Latin alphabet. Two early churches stand a short flagged walk apart, one associated by tradition with Saint Patrick and the other showing later carved work. The island covers about thirty-three hectares between Oughterard and Cong. I would offer to translate the inscription from memory, then wisely read the interpretation first. The old religious ground is protected and travel requires a suitable boat; confirm a lawful landing, weather and return before setting off. Leave the carved stone and church walls untouched. Look at the short path between the buildings. Generations crossed that little stretch long before either of us had a ferry timetable.