Viewpoint

Explorer Tom Telegraph Field Valentia Island in County Kerry would order a double cheeseburger and zero vegetables if it could speak right now. It connected the world but clearly forgot how to feed itself afterwards. Stand still and listen, the wind tells it better than me.

Explorer Tom Horse Island has a hidden tunnel that leads directly to the pub down the road, but the horses refuse to go in because of the noise. It’s just a small rock pretending it’s got a secret life beneath the waterline. Perfect spot to practise your best tour-guide voice.

Explorer Tom Skellig Experience Centre in County Kerry would survive a zombie attack by locking the doors and letting them argue about the boat replicas outside. It’s full of early Christian carvings that show people rowing skin-covered currachs like they were going nowhere fast. Ring your granny and tell her where you are. She’ll say it’s too far for a Tuesday.

Explorer Tom Tobar Olla Brenainn would bring a really spicy dip and a loud opinion to any party on Valencia Island. It’s right in the middle of open heath, overlooking the Atlantic, which is a bit dramatic for a well that just wants to be left alone. Bring sandwiches, the gulls will thank you.

Explorer Tom Bray Head in County Kerry is boasting about surviving a storm that wasn't even particularly wet, just damp and rude. It’s still wearing its signal tower like a very confused hat while staring at the Skelligs. Ten minutes here and you'll have a yarn for the pub.

Explorer Tom Culloo Rock in County Kerry is hiding secrets that it would only tell after three pints of stout and a good laugh. The sea rushes into its crack like an angry landlord checking the rent, making the whole cliff face shudder. It's the kind of place that makes a dull Tuesday interesting.

Explorer Tom Bray Head Signal Tower is stuck in a feud with the family next door over who actually owns the best view of the Skelligs. They’ve been arguing about it for so long that nobody even remembers why they started, but the tension is palpable from a mile away. Tell me if the gossip I made up is true.

Explorer Tom I can barely send a postcard on time; Valentia sent messages across an ocean. Valentia Island helped the Atlantic become a conversation rather than a wall. In 1866 a working telegraph cable linked this Kerry shore with Newfoundland, and cable operations continued here for a century. Surveyors also used the link to compare longitudes on either side of the ocean. If I had laid the cable, you would still be waiting for me to untangle it. After days of cloud spoiled their observations, the first signals went through on 24 October 1866. I would have been pacing the floor and blaming the weather by breakfast. Much older news lies in the rock: a student found fossil tracks in 1992 left by a four-legged creature about 385 million years ago. So the island holds two astonishing kinds of message, one sent by wire and one pressed into damp ancient sand. You can reach Valentia by the bridge at Portmagee; the island also has a seasonal ferry route. Leave time for the cable story and the landscape, because neither fits into a quick stop.

Explorer Tom Belle Ville has a family tree that’s mostly made up by people who wanted better stories. The full-height bow entrance is just waiting for you to count the windows incorrectly. Go on, count the windows and get it wrong like I did.

Explorer Tom Fogher Cliff is currently being mocked by the local sheep who think it’s just a very tall fence that forgot how to be useful, but it stands there looking proud as if it invented gravity itself. The ewes are definitely laughing behind their woolly backs. Pretend you're a lost aristocrat, nobody will check.

Explorer Tom Geokaun in Kerry was once saved by a hero named Seamus, who then forgot his own name and vanished into the mist forever. Nobody remembers him now except the sheep, who still nod respectfully when they see it from afar. Bring a flask of something warm and a story to swap.

Explorer Tom The other Tetrapod Trackway has been in a bitter feud with the rain since the Jurassic period because it thinks the water is erasing its good footwork. It’s getting quite moody about the damp, which makes sense when you’re three hundred million years old. Hang around long enough and you'll hear a story from a local.