Here’s everything the University of Birmingham’s prospectus didn’t tell you

So you’ve decided to accept an offer to come to Birmingham? Welcome!

Whilst you may be beginning your shopping list of uni essentials, here are the top tips you need to know before you even set foot in Edgbaston or Smelly Oak. And, we can guarantee these weren’t in the prospectus.

You’re going to walk a lot

Now, this is going to be true whether the sun is making its annual appearance or if it’s pouring and also minus three degrees. Unless you have a car in your possession (and if you do, please carpool for the sake of your social life and the environment), you’re definitely going to at least walk on campus if you have the ability to do so. Public transport isn’t the cheapest or the most reliable here, after all.

There will not be enough library seats for your entire study group

Not that a study group should be big enough to take over a group of tables anyway, but while you’ll likely be able to find a chair, it is less likely that it will be near a charger or the shelf where the books you need are on. This goes double for multiple people walking around the library trying to find somewhere to settle.

There will always be perpetually occupied chairs that people should perhaps begin paying their rent to. Bring your student card with you, not your whole friend group.

Costa Coffee, times two

Yes, there are two of them on campus. Yes, it is possible that they will sell different things sometimes.

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There’s one at the University Centre between Kimiko and Ryman Stationery. No, I don’t know how many students need sushi, coffee and ballpoint pens in a consecutive sequence often enough to justify this placement.

There is also another one at the Sport and Fitness facility for the more athletically fit students who fancy a dose of caffeine to boost their spirits for their next lecture.

Fashionista? If you are, I hate to tell you…

Now that you’re in university, you can wear what you want instead of whatever uniform you were assigned. This is a beautiful idea until you realise that you will likely be wearing the same three coats in winter that cover up any new outfit underneath. And, yes, you will need multiple coats. This is especially true if you’re an international student, because you will soon be familiar with the sensation of the cold.

The wind will render hairbrushes obsolete and dry out your eyeballs and lips in the five minutes it takes for you to regret walking to a lecture. But if you don’t want to have a signature look like a cartoon character, there are always charity stores in Harborne!

Get the freebies you want at the Welcome Fair

Look, no one’s pretending you came to the Welcome Fair for deep intellectual growth. You came for the free stuff — and honestly, same.

Within 10 minutes, you’ll be buried in branded tote bags, leaflets you’ll never read, and a stress ball shaped like a dinosaur in a lab coat. Why? Because if it’s on a table and it doesn’t cost money, it’s going in your bag. No questions asked.

They’re free for a reason — mostly because no one would ever pay for a pen that runs out before week two or a USB stick shaped like a carrot. But that’s the point. It’s tradition. It’s Freshers’. It’s capitalism in student mode.

You’ll walk away with five lanyards, three coasters, a pizza voucher you’ll lose immediately, and a branded condom handed to you by someone in a banana costume. And you’ll love it. Not because you need any of it, but because you can. This is the kind of weird joy you only get once a year — welcome to UoB.

So take the tote. Take the highlighter. Take the weirdly sticky slinky. You’re not being greedy. You’re participating in an ancient and noble Brummie student tradition.

If you live in the Vale, the walk to Aldi is LONG. Like, existential-crisis-long

Sure, the Vale’s got the views, the swans, and that one weird hill no one warns you about — but when it comes to food shopping, it’s not exactly the land of convenience. If you’re dreaming of cheap groceries and Aldi-level bargains, brace yourself: the nearest one’s in Selly Oak, and yes, it’s technically “walkable”… if you consider a 45 plus minute urban pilgrimage with five tote bags and a slowly melting pint of milk to be “walking distance”.

Morrison’s in Harborne is your more realistic option. It’s not quite as cheap as Aldi, but it’s doable — especially if you’ve got a tight student budget and legs that don’t quit. Pack some headphones, mentally prepare for the Harborne incline, and maybe bring a flatmate for moral support (and to carry the toilet roll multipack).

Otherwise, you’re looking at a budget-blowing Uber trip, where your groceries cost less than the ride home. Pro tip: Split it with friends, or make the trek into a cardio session and call it self-care.

Either way, welcome to student life on the Vale: Scenic views, swans, and the unavoidable question — is this tin of beans really worth the walk?

The Vale Hill

If you live in Maple Bank, Elgar Court, Chamberlain, or Aitken, this hill will be your existential nemesis. Forget climbing Mount Everest; you’re staring down a 45 degree incline that will have you questioning the very meaning of existence. In fact, no one ever truly makes it up the hill — we all just hope we’re somewhere near the top, living in a state of perpetual limbo, wondering if it’s all just a metaphor for the futility of life.

And here’s the thing: No, it doesn’t get better if it’s minus degrees. In fact, the cold somehow makes it worse. The icy wind slaps you in the face like the ghost of your failed new year’s resolutions, and every step feels like you’re trudging through the metaphysical mud of a Samuel Beckett play. You’re there, but you’re not really there. Is this what “waiting for Godot” felt like? Probably.

And then, when you finally get into the lift at Chamberlain, you and your fellow travellers exchange glances of shared suffering — trying to catch your breath but simultaneously pretending you aren’t completely out of shape. There’s a collective tension as everyone desperately tries to act like they’re not winded.

This hill? It’s always the same — an endless cycle of suffering. The reward? The sweet, sweet lift that promises respite, only to betray you by making you feel like you’ve just climbed a mountain in front of a crowd of strangers judging your every pant.

You’ll stand there, pretending like your heart isn’t about to explode, trying to think your way through the sweat and the gasping, but deep down you know: The hill has won.

If you hate your flat, you can move

Look, we’ve all been there. You thought you were signing up for a chill, cozy student haven. Instead, you’re living in what feels like the set of a never-ending reality show where everyone thinks they’re the star. If your flatmates are treating the kitchen like it’s the stage for their midnight rave at 4am, complete with blaring music and questionable dance moves, it might be time to rethink your life choices. And don’t even mention the leftover food that’s been on the counter so long it could legally apply for a student loan. Is that lasagna from two weeks ago… breathing?

Here’s the thing: If you have a gut feeling about the place, you can move. Your flat doesn’t have to be the setting for a student horror story. If your flatmates’ culinary masterpieces are more “science experiment” than “home-cooked meal,” and your sleep schedule is now dictated by their “spontaneous” 3am pasta parties, it’s okay to get out. There are ways to escape — whether that’s swapping rooms or casually strolling into the housing office like: “Hey, is there an apartment where people actually know what a washing machine is?”

Will it involve some awkward conversations? Maybe. But your mental well-being and peace of mind are priceless. You don’t need to live in a flat that feels like a mix between Big Brother and Survivor.

Get yourself out of there, find somewhere quieter, and maybe even somewhere with a fridge that doesn’t double as a biohazard zone. You’ve got options, and your flatmates can keep the chaos to themselves.

Go to the welcome events and speak to people

This should be obvious. Don’t even think of it as networking: What other opportunity will you have to see the sheer chaos that is designed to lure you onto campus? What you’re really walking into is a full blown spectacle. This is one of the rare moments when a university pulls out all the stops to dazzle you—events packed back-to-back, free food and merch at every turn, awkwardly enthusiastic student ambassadors, and a general atmosphere of barely controlled chaos.