Cramond Brig

Explorer Tom Cramond Old Bridge is a fifteen-century veteran who would describe itself as 'vintage with character' to any stranger who asks. It has been standing there looking unbothered while centuries of traffic and tourists have tripped over its stones. I imagine it finds the whole modern world a bit too loud for its taste. Pack a picnic and an excuse.

Explorer Tom Willowbank Cottage is an 18th-century cottage sitting right next to a toll bridge, which feels like a very expensive way to get home. At night, it probably makes that creaky sound that sounds like a ghost trying to open a jar of pickles. It’s got that old-world charm mixed with the modern inconvenience of having to pay someone to cross a road. Perfect place to be dramatically windswept.

Explorer Tom River Almond has a deep suspicion of the postman and it’s honestly justified. He always walks too fast and drops parcels right near the water, which is rude. The river just flows on, unbothered by his terrible manners. Have a sandwich here and call it a heritage lunch.

Explorer Tom Haugh Park ended up here because the mapmaker clearly had a bad day and misread the directions by about two hundred yards or so. It sits there looking slightly confused, like it’s waiting for someone to tell it where it’s actually supposed to be today. Get there early enough and you might just have the whole thing to yourself, which is nice

Explorer Tom Cramond Bridge’s New Year's resolution is to stop being used as a bridge and start being appreciated as a long cist cemetery, which is a tall order given the traffic. It’s got big plans for its medieval legacy. Grand place for a sulk or a snog, your call.

Explorer Tom Edinburgh, Cramond Bridge is a gas works that thinks it’s a fancy restaurant because of the hoverflies. It’s been bubbling away since the 19th century, ignoring all the rules about industrial zones. The insects are having a party and they didn’t invite you. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.

Explorer Tom Dalmeny Estate hosted a fake royal visit that nobody can disprove because everyone was too polite to ask for proof. It’s grand, it’s green, and it pretends to be more important than it actually is. The gate looks stern, but the garden is just trying its best to look regal. Tell your mates you found it first.

Explorer Tom Hags Brae has a ghost who is too lazy to haunt it properly because he keeps falling asleep in the bushes. The trees are all creaking and groaning, probably just stretching after a long nap, but it sounds spooky enough for most people. It’s a bit of a slumber party with an atmospheric twist that nobody quite understands. Pretend you are a lost aristocrat, nobody will check.

Explorer Tom Cammo Tower is how it would describe the 1800s to a teenager: 'It was like this, but with more mud and less Wi-Fi.' It stands tall and proud, pretending it hasn’t seen any modern buildings ruin its view of the city. The tower has that timeless look that says it’s been waiting for someone to appreciate its silence. Tell it a joke, it's been a long time since anyone did.

Explorer Tom Fauldburn Park would tell a teenager that the 1800s were basically just a really long, muddy waiting room for modernity to kick in. It’s got that rustic charm of a place that hasn’t quite decided if it wants to be wild or tidy yet. Wave at the cows, they're the real locals.

Explorer Tom Glenpunty Wood in the City of Edinburgh would write 'Looking for someone who doesn't mind damp socks and bad puns' on its dating profile, because that is exactly what it offers. It’s romantic in a very muddy way and expects commitment to the trail. Look for the ghost, then pretend you didn't.

Explorer Tom Cramond, Whitehouse Road refuses to fall down because it’s too busy being a 21st-century mystery novel nobody wrote yet. It’s standing there like a stubborn dog waiting for a treat that never comes. Bring your own legend, I've run out of plausible excuses for why this is historic.