By American standards, the great Scottish city of Edinburgh has some nerve referring to one of its two most historical sections as “The New Town.” For New Town was conceived and built in the later part of the 18^th century, several years before the Declaration of Independence. To American eyes, its collection of neoclassical architecture, possibly the finest in Europe, marks it as an ancient town, indeed.

Yet New Town is only 233 years old, a paltry span compared to Edinburgh’s more than 900 years of existence. The Old Town, centered on Castle Rock, Edinburgh Castle and the approaches to them, at last became too cramped, too restraining, too subject to the stresses and diseases engendered by close quarters to contain the city’s growth. New Town, with its comparatively wide streets, thousands of tidy townhouses and green medians and parks, allowed Edinburgh to leave the Middle Ages.

But unlike so many cities in the U.S. where “new towns” present jarring, clamorous juxtapositions with the old towns they surround, Edinburgh’s New and Old towns work together as a great ensemble. Though the architecture and spacing of New Town’s structures are vastly different from Old Town’s, there is still in them an Old World appreciation for density and visual connectedness among buildings. Visitors passing from one historic section to another are well aware of a change in landscape, but are not disoriented as they would be in the States by competing “look-at-me” architectural elements, pedestrian-unfriendly spaces and cheap building materials.

As the traditional seat of Scottish culture, government, science and commerce, Edinburgh has always wielded great sway over Scotland. It’s ability to grow and decentralize without losing its vibrancy or character, and its willingness to preserve its core of historic habitations led to its naming in 1995 as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.