Freshers' Fortnight

Hey all, it's been a while since I have written a blog. Well good news, here is a new one. It's part of my creative writing coursework so any comments would be much appreciated. Also, if anyone can think of a witty title for it then I will love you forever. Enjoy.

Freshers’ fortnight can be likened to a two-week break at Butlins, only with a higher percentage proof.

The university campus itself feels a lot like a Butlins resort; both consist of row-after-row of en-suit cupboards, labelled ‘Accommodation’ on the campus map but labelled ‘1’ on any sensible Health and Safety officer’s top ten list of condemned buildings. They also equally have the site shop that will kindly trade you any loaf of bread or pint of milk for whichever body party you need least - more often than not an arm or a leg – and an entertainment centre with a bar, pool table and a dozen different activities that rotate on a fortnightly cycle. None of which are free.

On arrival to your holiday, you pull into the car park and are directed where to leave your car by an official looking person in a fluorescent yellow jacket given to them by the Health and Safety officer - who’s time I think could be spent more wisely considering the state of the accommodation. You then wander over to the main reception to find out where you will be staying. This is the first of many queues. This is also the point at which a Butlins holiday and university life begin to differ. For example, at Butlins, you queue to get your keys, you queue to into the entertainment centre, you queue to get a round in and then you queue to get tickets for the up-and-coming events over the next two weeks. At University you instead, queue to get your keys, you queue to enrol, you queue to get a round in and then you queue to get tickets for the up-and-coming events over the next two weeks. None of which are free.

After moving your things into your squat, you are left to explore the site and discover all of the different activities there are to do. If you are at Butlins and under the age of twelve, then there is plenty to do: Splash pool, ball pool, swimming pool. If however, you are at university and/or over the age of twelve, then the only thing you can really do is play pool. There is the odd arcade machine or you could sign up to the gym or a club but that takes a lot of effort, or rather, more effort than it does to raise a pint to your lips and drink. The one advantage of the university’s early evening entertainment over a family holiday resort’s is that you do not have to sit there supping at your beer while a crap DJ plays cheesy pop music badly with chubby school girls dancing along thinking they are ‘all that’, badly. Unless of course it is ‘Skool Disco’ night, in which case you’re screwed. Of course there are a handful of other things to be getting on with after about eight in the evening. None of which are free.

So fast-forward to the end of the fortnight. You come away with considerably less money, brain cells and cash, replaced with alcohol, alcohol and alcohol respectively. You have made a lot of great new friends and met an even greater number of people. At Butlins, you pack your car and drive home. At university, you are home and right about now the realisation sinks in. Lessons start soon and you are going to have to start working. Oh well, only 5 days until the weekend when a host of new activities will start. None of which are free.

And with no red coats either.

Lennox