Smoking is one of the worst things you can do to your body. Walking is one of the best. Nullify the effects of those naughty carcinogens by choosing to smoke while you walk. The benefits of the latter will cancel out the harm of the former. Just don’t quote us on that.
In a city as beautiful as Edinburgh, it seems a shame to eke out your days puffing single skinners on the couch while playing GTA V. You see that yellow patch on the ceiling? That should be getting dispersed into the skies while you catch huge breaths of freedom interspersed with the occasional draw of sticky black.
Edinburgh’s best smoking spots
From Cramond to Camo, we’ve rounded up ten of Edinburgh’s best smoking spots. We don’t care what you’re smoking or who you’re smoking it with: we just wanna see you get out the house, if only so we can tan your PS3 and GTA V. That’ll teach you for leaving the couch.
Beautiful places to indulge ugly habits
This council-owned nature reserve is a favourite haunt for joggers, dog walkers and other reprobates. Formerly one of Edinburgh’s most exclusive residences, Cammo House (pictured at the top of the page) now consists of little more than some crumbling ruins and an overgrown walled garden. The perfect spot then for filming a moody music video or blazing a fat zoot. In the woods that flank the estate, there is a gnarled ancient ash that’s believed to be the oldest tree in the city. Pause to contemplate the passage of time and how our spirit bodies are just balls of light and energy as you exhale a blue cheese blunt into the ether. Deep, man.
Edinburgh’s prime viewing spot (aside from that other prime viewing spot on Arthur’s Seat and that other prime viewing spot at the castle) is Calton Hill. Everyone knows about Calton Hill and everyone comes here for all sorts of reasons: Tourists to take photos. Locals to take photos. Joggers to be smug. And you to blow smoke at them. You don’t have to be stoned to appreciate the spectacular view, but let’s be honest, it helps.
Less a smoking spot and more a smoking trail, the Water of Leith is the ‘silver thread in a ribbon of green’ that snakes its way through the city. We’d liken it to more of a brown thread to be honest, but don’t let that detract from the water’s calming beauty. Besides, you’re only jumping down here to blaze a Jeffrey McJeeferton in peace, what do you care about the colour? With the Water of Leith winding through Auld Reekie for 12 miles, there’s sure to be a smoking spot near you. We’re fond of the Dean Village section, partly because of the local heron that is an hero of ours.
Accessible only at low tide, Cramond Island is like something out of a Famous Five book. Capture the Enid Blyton spirit by packing lashings of ginger beer, hard-boiled eggs and a half dig of Skunk #1. Watch the sunset, admire the view of the Forth Rail Bridge and snap a bunch of camera photos you’ll never look at again. Check the tides before setting off on your voyage of discovery; otherwise, you could be forced to spend the night on an island armed with only a 1950s picnic and a bag of weed. Which, come to think of it, probably isn’t so bad.
It’s 9am, and having arisen unusually early, Ed Uncovered has just scooped its first jeef of the day. If the remainder of this article tails off, you’ll know why. Edinburgh Royal Botanical Gardens is a world-renowned scientific centre for studying plants. Engage in some plant studying of your own by burning da ‘erb as you stroll through the gardens. Take a bag of nuts with you to turn squirrel-feeding into a competitive sport where the winner is the first to three strikes. Common greys are fair game, but go easy on the reds. We like those fluffy bastards.
Take a walk to Corstorphine Hill Tower, whose location you can probably deduce. Dedicated to Sir Walter Scott – yes, that righteous dead dude – the tower overlooks the suburbs of Corstorphine and Murrayfield. You can gaze there but you sure as hell can’t can’t afford a mortgage there. Home to badgers, geologists and An Entire Zoo, Corstorphine Hill is the setting for some truly incongruous sights. I know a guy who took a dose of magic mushrooms once and went to Edinburgh Zoo. Pro tip: Don’t.
In winter, the Meadows is crap and cold. In summer, it’s brilliant and slightly less cold. Blast a zoot here during December and you’ll catch knowing looks from envious professionals heading home from their drug-tested, pension-paying corporate jobs. Spark one up in July and no one will bat an eyelid. That’s because they’ll all be doing the same. At its height, the Meadows is Scotland’s own Vondelpark, veritable proof that the sooner they legalise this shit, the better for everyone. If the Scottish summer lasted longer than ten days, the Meadows would be the catalyst for a pacifistic revolution. We’re not apathetic in this country; we just have shitty weather.
Bristo is where skaters gather to fall off skateboards and get busted buying a half dig of Italian herbs. Pack a pre-roller and blow superior blunt smoke in their eyes as they’re cursing their bad luck and paucity of mad skillz. Look out for the rap battles that are held in Bristo a couple of times a year, when the air becomes redolent with skunk and the paving stones strewn with tonic bottles.
Like all things Edinburgh, Porty is best in the summer, when children build sand castles, grown-ups eat ice cream and stoners duck behind seawalls to coax lighters into life. Running all the way to Musselburgh, Portobello mixes cafes and beer gardens with secluded stretches that are perfect for fishing or smoking or smoking while fishing.
Innocent Railway Tunnel
When was the last time you smoked a joint in a tunnel? Never, that’s when. As Ed Uncovered (yes, me) once put it: “This is the only structure in Edinburgh that will take kindly to visitors tagging its ancient brickwork in luminous spray paint; it would be churlish, surely, not to administer a quick Jackson Pollock on the way through.” Tag away while you traverse the 500-metre tunnel before scampering up Arthur’s Seat to blaze a fat cone and despatch an obligatory Snapchat.
Looking back over it, this article seems to read OK. Guess I’ve just green-lighted myself for smoking on the job from now on. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to blaze another zoot – in my living room. Step outside? I’m not that daft.
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