I lived for a year in St. Andrews, Scotland. My ‘dreamy flat’ (called Priorsgate–yes, it had a name, and yes, Mary Queen of Scots supposedly slept there) was right next to the ruins of the old cathedral. In fact, if I sat out on the fire escape, I could just barely catch the view of the North Sea and the cathedral grounds. It was (and I’m guessing still is) a magical place.
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