Euan Mccolm on why Edinburgh should open its green space to the public

Capital has plenty of open space in the city centre, but all too often it’s only for those who can afford it, writes Euan Mccolm

In common with most Glaswegians, I have the deeply irritating habit of believing the city of my birth is somehow more special than other places.

Sometimes, it’s the people: they’re so much warmer and friendlier than folk from elsewhere, I’ll say, even though I haven’t the slightest bit of evidence to prove this assertion (what’s more, I’ve met people from Birmingham and they seemed much lovelier than my old neighbours in Shawlands who used to leave nappy bags in the close).

If I’m not making lazy, unprovable claims about the people of Glasgow, I can be heard boasting of the city’s remarkable architecture. Here, I am on stronger ground. From the glorious Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery in the west to the carefully restored Winter Gardens on Glasgow Green, the city is home to some of the most beautiful buildings anywhere in the UK.

Today, it is my intention to become cloyingly sentimental about Glasgow’s parks. Please fake an expression of agreement and nod along as I explain that nowhere can match the Dear Green Place for public spaces. With more than 90 parks and public gardens within the city limits, Glasgow has an abundance of outdoor space in which taps may be removed and cheap plonk illegally guzzled.

It occurred to me, last week, just how blessed Scotland’s largest city is in this regard as I sat in a beautifully tended park in my adopted home of Edinburgh.

A friend and I relaxed in the blazing sunshine while our assorted kids ran themselves ragged. The city’s busy streets could have been a thousand miles away as we luxuriated in an oasis of calm.

Even though we were in the park in the middle of a scorching Saturday afternoon, all – apart from the occasional yelp from our children – was quiet. If we were in Glasgow, I thought, the air would be filled with noise. Teenage goths would be drinking cider under cover of trees, middle-aged men would be stripped to the waist, defiantly displaying acres of tender pink flesh.

But, since this was Edinburgh and we were in a New Town park, there was none of that because – presumably – neither the teenage goths nor the sunburned men had a key to get in. Thanks to an annual payment of 150 quid or so, my chum did have the means to unlock the gate that we might enjoy the great outdoors within strolling distance of home.

The private gardens that run the length of Queen Street are among the most picturesque places in the capital. Yet, stroll past any of them on a sunny day and hardly anyone seems to be using them.

An agreement struck in the late 19th century means that acre after acre of space in the centre of Edinburgh is for the exclusive use of those who can afford to live in the neighbouring streets where houses can easily cost more than £2 million. This might have seemed entirely reasonable more than 100 years ago, but it seems wrong now.

Those who hold keys to these exclusive gardens will tell you that the annual subscriptions they pay ensure that the spaces are maintained. Past suggestions that these areas should be opened to the wider public have been met with fierce opposition from those who can afford entry.

But how sad it is to see a safe, open space in a busy city centre and for it not to be over-run by kids.

Yes, there’s Inverleith Park or the Meadows if you are not fortunate