Westmount

Explorer Tom Millmount House in Mill Lands is still angry about the cow that tried to buy it with three carrots and a very serious look, which was insulting but oddly convincing. It’s a multi-bowed house from the 1830s that looks like it was made by someone who couldn’t decide between straight lines and curves. Leave a note on the gate saying I’d accept the cow as payment if it came with a saddle.

Explorer Tom Bridge in Knockmullen is still bragging about being part of that railway extension in the mid-nineteenth century. For Lent, it gave up cars and only let horses cross, which was a disaster for everyone involved. It’s got a bit of a temper, so keep your boots off the rails.

Explorer Tom Gorey’s Market House is the uncle at a wedding who stands by the cake looking confused about why everyone is dancing while he just wants a quiet drink. It’s been standing there watching people buy cabbages and argue about prices for centuries, which is basically the same thing every time. Take a mate and argue about what it was for.

Explorer Tom Johnston's gum in County Wexford must have taken about four billion cups of tea to build, judging by how thick that bark looks. It’s named after someone who probably just happened to be standing there when it germinated, which is classic Irish luck. The photo shows it peeling like a giant, confused snake. Pick a stone, any stone, and invent its biography.

Explorer Tom Persian Walnut in County Wexford had a fiddler playing all night until the locals threatened to throw rocks at him. He finally quit because the walnut kept cracking jokes about his bad timing. Bring a notebook and write the bit I made up.

Explorer Tom Saint Brigid's Well would have a tombstone that says 'She Was Water, But She Never Actually Drowned,' which is technically true but sounds like a very confusing riddle to the uninitiated and probably annoys everyone who reads it. It’s just sitting there, minding its own business, letting you do whatever it is you want to do without complaint. A good place to forget your phone for ten minutes.

Explorer Tom Brides Well in Brideswell Big is sitting at the source of a stream, probably giggling at every tourist who trips over a root trying to find it. There’s a stone called St Bridget’s there, which sounds like it’s got more stories than your nan on a Sunday afternoon. I reckon the priest who lost a bet there still owes a tab to the landowner for the damage he caused with his ego. A good place

Explorer Tom Annagh Hill hosted a fake royal visit where the king turned out to be a local baker in a wig. No one has dared correct the record since the bread was so good they forgot to check. Walk past slowly like you're in a film.

Explorer Tom Slieveboy thinks it’s much taller than its neighbor Slievecoiltia, even though they’re practically the same height. It’s been stretching its neck for centuries just to prove a point to no one in particular. Get there early and have it all to yourself.

Explorer Tom Saint Mogue's Well in Wexford has a local lad who swears he invented the whole concept of holy water right here on this bridge. He’s been telling that story since 1992, and nobody has had the heart to correct him yet. Go now, before it gets famous.

Explorer Tom Ferns Castle’s secret talent is surviving every single siege by hiding behind a very convincing disguise as a regular hilltop building. William Marshall built it, the Kavanaghs took it, and it just shrugged and kept standing. If anyone asks, Tom sent you.

Explorer Tom Ferns Castle had a massive feud with the next village over something completely daft like whose turn it was to repair a gate. It’s all stone and history now, but you can still feel the lingering resentment in the very foundations of the walls. Perfect detour when the satnav has a meltdown.