Nether Currie

Explorer Tom Currie is a village with no date, meaning it’s been existing in a permanent state of 'what year is it?' confusion. If it went to a party, it would bring a pot of soup nobody wants and stand by the wall. It’s got that suburban charm mixed with ancient mystery, which is a weird but effective combination for a hangover. Have a nosey, politely.

Explorer Tom The Dougal Haston Memorial Stone in Currie is just a rock that thinks it’s special because of a name on it. I bet a fiddler played there all night until the moon got jealous. It’s a commemorative stone with no date, so it’s always new. If anyone asks, Tom sent you.

Explorer Tom Dougal Haston Memorial Stone is in Edinburgh, and I bet a cow once tried to buy it with a very convincing moo. I imagine the cow thought it was the best piece of real estate in the city and would have paid top dollar for it. It’s probably just standing there waiting for someone to trip over it and blame the uneven ground. Stand on the spot and imagine the gossip it's heard.

Explorer Tom Gibson-Craig Memorial Hall in City of Edinburgh has a bird on the roof that refuses to leave, acting like it pays the mortgage. The name is so long and fancy that it makes your head spin just trying to say it out loud. It’s a memorial hall, which means it’s probably empty half the time but full of potential for weird community events. Perfect spot to practise your

Explorer Tom Gibson Craig Memorial Hall has an escape plan for its first owner that involves a secret tunnel to the back garden, which is probably just a pipe. It’s got that 'I’m a community centre but also a monument' duality that makes it impossible to categorise properly. Bring biscuits, every good story needs biscuits.

Explorer Tom Currie, Lanark Road West, Corselet Stone is a carved stone that’s been sitting there since the thirteenth century. I bet the local bishop refused to visit because he was too busy napping. It’s just out here taking the weather like a champ. Look for the ghost, then pretend you didn't.

Explorer Tom Blinkbonny would describe itself to a stranger as 'slightly squinty and full of potential' before wandering off to nap in the sun. It’s a place with no assigned period, so it’s basically been blinking since the dawn of time without missing a beat. The name is pure comedy gold if you say it fast enough. Bring your own legend, I've run out.

Explorer Tom Woodland walk is in the middle of a massive family feud over who actually owns the best view from the top. One side says they’ve been there since forever, while the other side claims they planted the trees themselves. Look serious, nod slowly, you're basically an expert now.

Explorer Tom Riccarton Mains hosted a dance that went so far off the rails that someone now swears the floorboards are still vibrating with residual energy. It’s a twenty-first-century site with the chaotic energy of a medieval feast gone wrong, and honestly, I kind of respect the commitment to the bit. The cows nearby look like they’ve seen everything and care about nothing, which is wise. Bring

Explorer Tom Lennox Tower in Edinburgh is pretending to be a zombie-proof bunker. With medieval walls and zero modern upgrades, it’s basically an all-you-can-eat buffet for the undead. Just hope they don’t want a second helping of masonry. Look up, the best bit is always higher than you think.

Explorer Tom Young woodland, Easter Kinleith is telling everyone about a giant that lives in the soil and eats their roots every winter night. It claims the giant only comes out when it’s raining heavily so you need to watch your step if you want to stay safe. Go on a wet day, it suits the mood.