The trials and tribulations of the Beaverbanker

Every summer, approximately three hundred soon-to-be students will receive that fateful email: an offer of accommodation from Beaverbank. After the initial sniggering of the double entendre, they’ll check Google maps and find it a fifty minute walk from university campus. And their faces will fall.

It looks nice, but it also happens to be in the middle of nowhere

One of these students was me.

Now, I’m not saying that staying at Beaverbank is some mighty social injustice that must be rectified immediately, but the distance isn’t exactly ideal. For a fresher whose diet of the past two months has solely consisted of Tesco’s own-brand vodka and hula hoops, a fifty minute walk every morning is unlikely.

The other option of course is the bus, where there’s a 70% chance of being seated next to the guy in the suspiciously stained parka, that mutters about the Queen being the antichrist and Ainsley Harriot controlling our thoughts via subliminal messages in “Ready Steady Cook”.

Not the best way to spend your morning commute.

I’m not alone in my self-entitled misery. Not one of the freshers in the block that I asked had Beaverbank as their first choice for accommodation, one disgruntled Beaverwanker saying:

“Even if I take the bus to uni I tend to be late for lectures because it’s such a distance.”

Another simply said: “It’s shit.”

However, there are some positives to living in Beaverbank.

One student said:

“Living so far from campus means I’ve had the opportunity to explore more of the city… Because of this I’ve found some great cafes, restaurants and shops that I otherwise never would have discovered.”

Another student added to the list of Beaverbanks positives, saying there is “a Tescos nearby.”

When it comes down to it, Beaverbank is a suitably average place to spend your first year in Edinburgh. Indeed, the bloodied feet and psychopathic parka-wearers (some of them do have good conversation) are part of its charm. Staying at said accommodation is a great way to induce sympathy from people at parties and thus win favour, whilst also creating an unbreakable bond between you and every other Beaverwanker out there. It’s like fighting in Vietnam, or seeing Coldplay live – you all know each other’s pain. That being said, it’s fair to say that every Beaverbank resident you ever meet would gladly spend their second year somewhere closer to town.