Florence Pugh is singing the praises of Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh, declaring it the ‘eighth wonder of the world’. She loves how the landmark is visible from all corners of the city and describes the climb as worth it, even when you’re knackered, because reaching the top lets you breathe, snack, and soak in the view before heading down for a good pint. It’s a feeling she finds deeply satisfying.
Nominate your eighth wonder of the world.
When asked about vacation red flags, Pugh isn’t talking about destinations—it’s the people she travels with. She has a real bugbear with folks who don’t understand sun cream and sand. Apply the cream, she insists, but don’t plop down in the sand and act shocked when you’re covered in it. It grinds her gears.
For a vacation disaster, Pugh recalls the nightmare of arriving at a hotel only to find your room isn’t ready. With luggage in tow, everyone grumpy and hungry, and the beach just out of reach because the hotel won’t take your bags—it’s a scenario that’s happened to her and it’s pure chaos.
