It’s not easy living in Duryard
It is AGES away
Being a fresher is brilliant: constantly going out, meeting new faces every day, there is a constant buzz wherever you live, and, while the nightlife is admittedly not great in Exeter, it can be great fun if you’re drunk enough.
This is where the great problem with Duryard arises. It is just too far away. I still remember the feeling when my parents dropped me off last September and mum said, “are you sure it’s not up there?” gesturing up Streatham Hill.
No, it wasn’t there. “What about here?”, as we travelled further down the road to Birks. No, how much further could it be? A long way, it seemed.
As we passed the intimidating wrought-iron fence and turned up the road, my heart sank at the student residence I saw. Luckily I wasn’t living in Moberly I suppose. We continued on to eventually it was actually pretty nice, on the outside at least. But I knew that we were destined to social Siberia for the next year.
Pre-drinking in Duryard is a futile task, as the epic two mile walk to Timepiece would sober up even the drunkest soul, and no one from other halls is willing to join you there, unless they are particularly keen on hiking. It’s not only the distance – everywhere seems to be uphill from here, despite being on top of a hill. It’s where cyclists’ dreams come to die.
Also, the return journey can be equally problematic, especially if you’re trying to bring back the love of your life after a hefty dose of Cheesy’s. My flatmate had to ask round the flat for change to call a taxi to Lafrowda to meet with a particularly keen love interest. They may as well have been living on the other side of the world. I think they gave up in the end.
Another ended up doing £50 worth of damage to the ceiling and walls after being unable to seal the deal due to the ridiculous location of where he lived, and his one night stand was from Point Exe, which is a real place apparently.
Duryard is essentially a satellite state of Birks: there is no real infrastructure to speak of, or basic utilities such as bike sheds or a post office. There is, however, a poorly labelled private shed, which has claimed many innocent bikes throughout history, and the only social area to of speak now gets shut after 11, so some prick is always bound to be playing his shit music day and night for everyone to hear.
It’s not all bad though: there is a large international population, which means you can be friends with people from all walks of life. Considering you’re probably from Cheltenham or Guildford, it must be a refreshing new experience. It also means you get to see their very colourful walls, which domestic students don’t get (very unfair).
It also looks a lot nicer than Birks or Lafrowda, which was my reason for picking it. There is also a garage and a Subway at the bottom of the road, where you can plow through your student loan with a footlong Italian BMT and an overpriced bottle of Vino.
But let’s be honest: you shouldn’t pick Duryard unless you want disproportionately strong legs and a poor lecture attendance record.
Don’t pity us, we are here through ignorance, not misfortune. Maps aren’t difficult to find, we were just too lazy, which seems ironic now considering our daily trials.