I know I do a lot of looking back on this blog. I think it’s probably an age thing but it’s not deliberate. More often than not I hear or read something which prompts a memory I then write about.

Two weeks ago, for example, there was an item hosted by Adrian Chiles on Five Live concerning students going off to college for the first time. That, in turn, reminded me that 50 years ago I experienced my own first week at university.

Aberdeen wasn’t my first choice. York was my preferred destination because I was living in Scotland and I thought it would be more interesting to go to an English university. However, given my patchy academic record, I had to be realistic so I put Aberdeen as my second choice knowing that I had a better chance of going there, and I was right because, although I got an interview at York, I made a hash of it and wasn’t offered a place.

Aberdeen, on the other hand, offered me a place without an interview, albeit it was conditional on me passing some additional exams in my sixth and final year at secondary school. Thankfully I got the qualifications required but the results weren’t published until August so confirmation of my place was late compared to those who had already been accepted on the basis of their year 5 results. Consequently, the halls of residence where most first year students were accommodated were full so I had to find accommodation elsewhere.

The university kept a list of potential digs and I remember driving to Aberdeen with my mother to inspect a few. Remarkably, although we only lived 60 miles away, that was the first time I had ever visited the city, which was a two-hour drive from where we lived in north east Fife.

I assumed Aberdeen would look much like Dundee, a city I knew quite well, but the first thing I noticed was how different they were. Even now the centre of Dundee can feel rather dark and forbidding, but in the seventies it was arguably worse, with many of the old slum tenements designated for demolition. In comparison, the silvery grey granite buildings that greet visitors to Aberdeen seemed light and airy.

*New King’s building, King’s College, University of Aberdeen*

After visiting some potential digs, the place I chose was in the more affluent west end of the city. It was a family home and the live-in landlords were a young married couple with two small children, and my room (which I shared with another first year student) was at the top of the house.

Unfortunately, while it was a nice area, it was over four miles to the cobbled streets of Old Aberdeen where the English department, the main library, the refectory, and all the halls of residence were situated, and that was a problem because, if I missed the last bus - as I often did - it took over an hour to walk home.

Initially the biggest impact of living in digs was on my social life because, not being in a hall of residence, I had to work extra hard to meet people, something that has never come naturally to me. In the first few weeks I forced myself to go to discos (which I hated!) and other events. Curiously, the most successful of these, in terms of meeting people, was a lunchtime cheese and wine party hosted by the Christian Society. I didn’t join but I did meet someone who became a lifelong friend.

My accommodation was b&b only so I registered to have dinner at one of the smaller halls of residence in Old Aberdeen. That was fine, up to a point, but I always felt like a visitor rather than a resident and I did feel quite lonely at times. (Sometimes, after dinner on Saturday, I would retire to the TV room to watch Starsky & Hutch which was hugely popular at the time. The room would be packed and I would sit there, in the dark, surrounded by fellow students, residents of Dunbar Hall, none of whom I knew. Weird.)

It took several weeks but eventually I made friends through sport (I played hockey for the university) and by joining the Aberdeen Students’ Charities Campaign through which I met most of the people I subsequently shared flats with in years two, three and four.

In hindsight, though, I did spend quite a lot of time on my own during that first term but it never crossed my mind to go home at weekends (which many people did), and having nothing to compare it to I just got on with it. Either way, it has never coloured my attitude to Aberdeen or university in general because the good memories far outweigh the bad.

That said, since graduating in 1980 I’ve returned to Aberdeen on only a few occasions, but that’s no reflection on the city or the university. Truth is, every one of my university friends left Aberdeen after they graduated so there’s no-one to visit. I am however still in touch with people I met at university and two or three are among my best friends, so that speaks for itself, I think.

PS. The last time I visited Aberdeen was in 2022, two days after the death of the Queen. I had some time on my hands because the football match I was due to watch in Dundee had been postponed, so I drove up to Aberdeen, and subsequently Balmoral. For the full story, click here.

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