I could never live in a city, but if I had to it would probably be Edinburgh. Not for any cosmopolitan character to the street life or the claustrophobia-allaying breadth of those Georgian streets, but because it’s a city you can escape at any moment. In your head, at least.
Looming over almost every part is Arthur’s Seat, which Robert Louis Stevenson judged a hill in size, but “a mountain in virtue of its bold design”. It’s this eternally reassuring presence in Edinburgh’s civic space that puts me at ease. The volcanic plug creates a sense of a natural landscape and near-tranquillity, despite the encircling thrum from over 540,000 people.
