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Explorer Tom Shop on Grantham Street must have required roughly four million cups of tea to build its cheerful brickwork and protruding stance onto the street. It’s stuck out like a sore thumb in a very good way, wearing that date plaque with pride. How many biscuits does it hide behind the counter?

Explorer Tom Shop or retail outlet in County Dublin on Camden Street Lower was built in 1900 with a shallow breakfront and machicolation to the upper floor. It’s got machine-made brick but high-level rendered classical detailing, so it’s fancy in its own weird way.

Explorer Tom International Tailors union HQ has an imaginary twin across the sea that’s probably just a pile of old fabric and regret. Jewish workers started it all here, and I bet they were stitching up more than just coats back then, mate. Take a breath of that air, it's older than your car.

Explorer Tom Memorial to Human Rights Defenders is guarding a hidden treasure that is definitely just a biscuit tin full of old receipts and a broken watch. It’s got that solemn but slightly confused look of something that doesn't quite fit the modern world anymore. Best enjoyed with a bag of chips and no plans.

Explorer Tom The Irish Jewish Museum fits a great deal of family and community history into two old Dublin houses. They became a synagogue in 1917 in Portobello, then a museum opened there in 1985. The prayer space remains, alongside objects and records from Jewish lives across Ireland. Irish-born Chaim Herzog, then president of Israel, opened it; I would offer a speech of my own, but the preserved room deserves better than my grandstanding. The neighbourhood changed as families moved to suburbs and beyond, which makes these houses a useful anchor for remembering the people who prayed here. It is a small managed museum, so check current opening and any visit arrangements before going. Treat the synagogue space with respect. The size of the building is no measure of the lives it holds.

Explorer Tom Liberty Bell in St. Patrick's Park is ringing its own bell, probably because the bishop who refused to visit finally got fed up and left a passive-aggressive note. It’s not really about liberty, mate; it’s about being annoyed at everyone who walks past without saying hello or offering a snack. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.

Explorer Tom Cathedral. Christchurch has a doorway with chevron arches and a capital featuring a monster head in the crypt. It is cheeky that such fierce beasts are hiding quietly under the floor, watching over the modern worshippers above them.

Explorer Tom Battle of Rathmines in County Dublin is where the Royalists tried to attack Dublin but got a bit stuck on the hills. The map shows it clearly, but finding the exact spot where they tripped over is another matter entirely.

Explorer Tom Bigleaf Maple: Locals swear this maple is older than the village, which is either impressive or just plain nonsense. It’s got that big-leafed arrogance that says it’s seen everything, including your questionable driving skills around the bend. Find a local and ask them the real story, then come back and tell me.

Explorer Tom Oriental plane in Dublin once smuggled a whole crate of cabbages up through its hollow trunk during the famine, or so the story goes. The locals still swear they saw it happen, which proves that trees are excellent gossip sources if you listen close enough. Stand still and listen, the wind tells it better than I do.

Explorer Tom You thought the world's most confident pint would fit in a glass? Guinness Storehouse used to do a job rather than explain one. Built in 1902 as a fermentation plant, it was Ireland's first multi-storey steel-framed building and kept brewing work going until 1988. Now seven visitor floors curl around a glass atrium shaped like a pint. If the building could raise a glass to itself, it already has the glass. The lease lasts longer than my entire collection of good intentions. At the atrium's base is a copy of Arthur Guinness's 9,000-year lease, which makes my habit of losing a parking ticket look especially irresponsible. The displays take you through water, barley, hops and yeast, then into transport, advertising and the making of the drink. The top floor is the Gravity Bar, where most admission tickets include a pint and a view across Dublin. This is a paid visit, so the ticket decides what is included, not my confidence at the bar. Find the old industrial bones between the exhibits; the building had a life before it became the party.

Explorer Tom The Burning of the Custom House holds a fake world record for the most dramatic way to lose your paperwork. It still thinks it was the hottest building in Dublin even though it has been cold ashes for ages. Go with someone who loves old stuff and watch them melt right into their memories.