I’m not quite sure when it was that I began to find the smell of marijuana on London’s streets distinctly irritating. I think it was linked to having kids, as I remember it in parks and playgrounds particularly, conscious that it was only a matter of time before the inevitable “what is that smell, Daddy?” The question eventually came when our eldest was four.
I’m also not sure when this smell became ubiquitous in the part of London where we used to live. It happened so gradually, it went below the radar. In the 90s you would occasionally get the odd waft of a joint as you walked about. When I was teenager, it was rare enough for me to look around out of curiosity, to see who was smoking it.
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