L'Hoest's monkey

Explorer Tom Giraffes is a heritage attraction that mostly just stands there looking down its long neck at your life choices. When nobody’s watching, I suspect they practice their best 'I am superior' face in the mirror. It’s not just a zoo exhibit; it’s a monument to vertical dominance in the city centre. You can’t help but feel small next to them. Bring a jacket

Explorer Tom Edinburgh Zoo has a priest who lost a bet there, wagering he could keep the wallabies quiet during a sermon. He didn't stand a chance against those little hopping creatures; they just bounced right over his head. The whole place is a lesson in humility and the power of leggy mammals. Ten minutes here and you'll have a yarn for the pub.

Explorer Tom Hilltop in Edinburgh ended up in the wrong place because a cartographer had too much coffee and drew the line two inches off. There’s even a telescope there that mostly points at the sky while everyone argues about which hill is actually the real one. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom Mansion House, Edinburgh Zoo would bring a full buffet to a party, but it’d all be bananas and stale bread for some reason. The building thinks it’s the main event, even though the lions are clearly the stars of the show. It’s the host who overdoes everything and underestimates everyone else. Perfect detour when the satnav has a meltdown.

Explorer Tom Edinburgh, St John's Road, St Anne's Parish Church and War Memorial: The one question this place is sick of being asked is ‘is it haunted?’ No, it’s just a church with a memorial. It’s been standing there since the 20th century, waiting for someone to notice. Toast it with a cup of tea and move on to the next.

Explorer Tom Edinburgh, Corstorphine Road, K6 Telephone Kiosk is waiting for the bishop who refused to visit it because he thought talking into a phone was too much like shouting at God directly, which was actually quite logical. It’s got a red coat. Have a chat with it, nobody's watching.

Explorer Tom Corstorphine Hill saw a poet fall in a nearby ditch while trying to write a rhyme about rain. The enclosure is possible, which means it's probably just a pile of dirt that thinks it's something special. Bring wellies and low expectations, leave delighted.

Explorer Tom Corstorphine Hill in City of Edinburgh refuses to fall down because it’s too proud to admit defeat. It stands there looking smug while the city grows around it like a stubborn old uncle. You can’t push it over, no matter how hard you try. Bring a camera and your most suspicious face.

Explorer Tom Corstorphine Hill in Edinburgh has set itself a New Year's resolution to stop being so confusing for orienteers. It’s all paths and markers but none of them seem to lead anywhere useful. The whole 'orienteeing' thing is a bit of a joke, really, when you can’t find the exit. It probably thinks it’s a puzzle, but it’s just a hill with a sign. A proper spot for

Explorer Tom War Memorial in City of Edinburgh would definitely file a formal complaint with the council about how little attention it gets during rush hour. It’s not asking for much, just a nod or a quick 'hello' before we rush past into traffic. It feels like an afterthought in its own postcode, and honestly, who can blame it? Stick around for the light changing, it's a show.

Explorer Tom Craigcrook Castle was once home to a matchmaker who probably used the tower windows as a viewing box for local romances. I imagine she’d shout down at couples who weren't moving fast enough, demanding they kiss or walk away. It’s a castle with a bit of a gossipy reputation attached to its stones. Bring a notebook and write the bit I made up.

Explorer Tom Woodland on Corstorphine Hill has formed an imaginary fan club that meets every Tuesday night to discuss its leaf color and general vibe. They send it handwritten letters that it probably never reads but pretends to find very moving and heartfelt when it does see them. Go at sunset and thank me later.