Things you’ll miss about Stirling when you graduate
Don’t make me leave
So that’s it. You have made it through four years of student life at Stirling and you will think that a period of never ending hell is over. But when you’re sitting in a sweaty office somewhere here are the things you will miss about your time at Stirling.
The beautiful campus
Who couldn’t miss this? Unless you had a soul made of custard then it is not difficult to have your breath taken away from the scenery which surrounds you every day.
No matter the weather the campus seems to pull off any look, whether it be bathed in the rare appearance of the sunshine or covered in the crisp snow where the colour of white seems to roll on forever all the way to the marauding hills which surround the area.
Even when it rains you can take a moment to appreciate the sound of the rain beating off the trees or softly disturbing the water in the loch.
You can contemplate whether the swans which inhabit the loch embrace the rain or are concerned that the water levels of their home are rising and may have to live with the insufferable humans.
The building where the majority of classes are taught at Stirling is so confusing that you’ll wonder if the designer mixed up the design plans for it with the plans for the Crystal Maze.
There should be a secret unlockable degree awarded for those who have mastered such a building.
However, you’ll miss Cottrell because you will feel a sense of pride for being able to find class 3Y56 without ending up on the wrong floor, the wrong corridor and the wrong side of the building.
Cottrell can give you a way of judging character. If someone ever says to you “oh classroom (insert classroom number here) that’s really easy to find”, stop them right there. Do not trust them and find another friend.
Fubar and Dusk
Why would you not miss them? The competition between the two (and only two) clubs in Stirling makes for interesting reading during a late night on Twitter. It’s like watching two of your children fighting over you, enticing you to become drunkest with them for an evening.
Both aren’t perfect, granted. If you want a drink in Fubar you may as well set up camp for the night because that’s where you’re spending the rest of the night. Dusk on the other hand can get more than just a little bit hot.
But like two squabbling children, the competition makes them better. The hunger for your affection makes you love them even more that you’ll never have a night out like a Skint Tuesday or Tiki Thursday ever again.
The Locals of Stirling are unlike any other local. Despite their love of violence on a Saturday night, they are an inspiration. Not an inspiration due to their own life achievements, but an inspiration for our own achievements.
Jokes aside, it’s nice that they embraced us for four years and didn’t give us too much abuse for being students.
It’s gone from our memories, but not from our hearts.
If you weren’t living in Geddes then were you really living at all? Those you paid a visit from other halls were outcasts looking in on the carnage and regret that en-suite bathroom. When being introduced in seminar groups, residents of Geddes used to proclaim their status with pride, while others would squirm and recoil that one of them had made their way into their ranks.
What other hall would you find squirrels running around the kitchens, fire extinguishers being sprayed up the walls and shits in bath tubs? The smell of gonorrhoea was the first thing to hit the nostrils of any visitor to Geddes.
Those were the Geddes characteristics which gave the hall its legendary status. When it was demolished at the start of this year many bowed their heads for a minute’s silence to respect an old relic. We can only hope that another hall can step up into its place.
I’m looking at you Willow Court.