I appreciate UK Bazaar for being the only British magazime that remotely resembles the world around me. It's almost the opposite of fantasy. I've never set foot on a London street, but I do have miles of countryside around me.
Down the road, there's an old stone in a ditch under a hedge in the shape of a chair, which, over time, became associated with the place where "ancient Ulster Kings were crowned", although that actual location is across the road on a farmer's land, where there are more stones. There's a rath in someone's garden. There are raths everywhere. Elsewhere, there are dolmens in people's driveways and in housing estates, hanging around from the megalithic (3000-4000 BC). Druids are modern in comparison to that.
If you fast-forward a few centuries, you have your churches in the middle of lakes reached by causeways (now ruined and full of bats which will immediately start crawling out of every crevice the moment the sun dips down behind the trees).
For some, the life of a city can be the fantasy that's sold to them, the improbably clean streets, the always sunny avenues...