For a few months now I’ve been regretting my decision to drop my place in Falmouth University to pursue a degree in Swansea Metropolitan. It became one of those ‘Well it’s too late now Naomi, you’ve made your bed’ situations. Yet I was thinking more and more about it and it was starting to get on top of me, until I decided to email Falmouth to ask if it were possible to have my place back. After all if you don’t ask you don’t get and I felt that I’d be forever kicking myself if I didn’t at least try to get back into Falmouth. After a few emails, phone calls and a week or two of having serious nuclear like butterflies residing in my stomach I heard back and I’m extremely pleased to say that I’ve been given my place back! I’m so happy!
When I found out the news I was in the middle of helping out with a wedding photo shoot. I happened to receive a few questioning and annoyed looks from some of the people surrounding me as I jumped up and down shrieking with glee. So sorting out all the financial bits and bobs as well as Ucas things has a lot to do with the fact I’ve been off the grid for a few days or weeks, can’t remember.
One of the most exciting things that I had to organize was where I planned on living for the next year. So last Tuesday me and my friend drove four hours to Falmouth. We stayed in a BnB where I slept in the cutest room. I’ve driven on the motorway before but not for very long, an hour and half at the most? I was pretty nervous about driving two hundred miles; never the less I sucked it up and was surprised how easy it was. Though I think blasting Muse down the M5 might have contributed to putting me at ease. My foot still hurts though, wish my car had cruise control.
Once my friend, Chris and I had settled in we decided to walk to the town to have a drink. Luckily we were a pleasant ten minutes walk away from the pub. The same pub that I wanted to visit and have done since I decided, over a year ago that Falmouth was the place for me. Walking through the colourful streets of Ol’ Fal it really hit me that this was where I was going to call my home for the next three years. I wondered idly whether I’d ever get bored of the multicoloured buntings; I don’t think I will.
We visited the Irish pub called Finn Mccools. It was amazing in there, it was the type of place where I didn’t feel like I was slouching too much or, that I needed to have a fresh drink in front of me at regular intervals. I felt welcome and for the first time in a while, young. We actually were there during Finn Mccools weekly open mic night and everyone was amazingly talented. At one point the two boys that were sat next to me decided they missed playing the keyboard so they got up and accompanied the boy who was in the middle of his - never though I’d say this because I actually hate the song he sang - an awesome rendition of ‘The tide is high’. I think me and Chris were the only ones there that didn’t actually fit in with the indie ‘High school musical’ that was unraveling around us, never the less I had loads of fun watching everyone preform whilst I sipped on my cider.
The next day I woke up ridiculously early, showered, packed, woke Chris up by knocking on his door till he proved he was awake and then had my breakfast whilst checking my emails. I was completely determined to find a house.
I know for a first year it’s most probably much better and is the norm to stay in halls with other Fresher’s and just try to settle in without the worry of bills but not only is the accommodation stupidly expensive in Falmouth if you want single occupancy, it’s also a good 50 minutes walk or 28 minutes cycle away or, if you’re a student with a lot more money than me, a 17 minutes bus ride away. The idea of having to rely on buses to get me back and forth to uni and having to pay to boot, really didn’t appeal to me. Plus I wanted to be nearer to the town and the beach. Yes! The beach. Ooo! And be able to ride my Mary Popping’s style bike around.
After viewing what felt like hundreds of houses and being shown all types of things from moldy rooms, to what I can only describe politely, as a ‘bachelors’ pad. I was so pleased to actually find a house that I think will feel like home. I met some of the housemates who are staying there and they seemed really lovely. They were all so relaxed and the girls seemed really bubbly and friendly. Plus the room I’m moving into is so light. Ooo! I’m excited and it’s still three months away.
Whilst looking at my finances and having it hit me that I really am going to be living like a student, I decided that I would write my trials and tribulations on this blog, in the hopes that it helps someone else. I’m desperately searching the Internet at the moment for a persons real life accounts of what’s happening/happened with them during their time at university. At the moment it seems like everyone is having an easy time and even though I like to view the world through rose tinted glasses, I know it’s not going to be the same for me. Hopefully I can get myself a job. Never the less I’m sure it’ll all work out fine. As I’ve been told time and time again, it’s all about the experience and in this case, I’m going to go with that.
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