These are all the reasons we love to hate Level

Liverpool’s biggest and most basic nightclub

Liverpool's nightlife is legendary, but it's largest club Level is a massive let down: Here is why, in case you didn't already know…

The queue

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A night out in Level is never a planned affair (if it was you'd obvs be going somewhere else). Consequently, you've got ready in a rush; one of your eyelashes is falling off in the taxi, and already you're regretting necking that bottle of Echo Falls. So the mood isn't great, but spontaneous nights out always end up the best, right? Wrong. Any optimism vanishes as soon as you lay eyes on it; it's looooong, it's February, -5 and pissing it down. It's the Level queue.

The only way to describe standing in here is that it feels worse than checking your bank account, only to see you have three quid of your overdraft left, it's worse than going to the fridge and seeing that your flatmate has scoffed your last Rolo yoghurt. It's devastating, and if you can manage to stand in it for an hour or more consider yourself a gladiator of Liverpool nightlife – you're made of stronger stuff than me.

Paying entry

Wondering whether the pneumonia and frost-bitten toes (opened toed heels in February, really?) is making you delirious, or if that really is the doors where you can see mean spirits begin to rise out from. That is, until the lady on the door asks you for £6 entry. In terms of student economics, £6 may as well be £600. It's two meal deals or six shots in ça va, so the prospect of paying this fortune to drink vodka cokes and listen to the same ceaseless flow of chart hits when you could do the same without needing to take out a second mortgage at Baa Bar seems daft.

It's basic AF

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Picture this. It's Freshers' Week and you're looking for somewhere to go for your first night out in the city you now call home. Liverpool nightlife is infamous and, after reading about a nightclub that's spread over three floors and plays a variety of music, its safe to say you're gassed.

This is until you realise it's basically just Cameo in Eastbourne, Przym in Leeds, Atik in Halifax. In other words, the boring, average nightclub you thought you'd escaped from your hometown. This is probably the reason why many freshers don't return after one fateful stint. The identical layout and music brings about PTSD from your first tragic night-out in Level's hometown equivalent, when Amy chundered on a bouncer. Classic.

It's huge

Level's main selling point is it's size, but even this can spoil your night. In this colossal club, it's easy to lose your mates, Lucy's putting her jacket in the cloakroom on the third floor, Tom's with the smokers on the bottom floor, Georgia went to the toilet on the second level and god knows where you are. It's gigantic, so if you want spend all night searching for your friends, play hide and seek in the SJ free of charge instead.

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It's ALWAYS busy

Even though it's massive, every single floor is rammed every night it's open. The staircase is chaos and often leaves you stranded on one floor for most of the evening. Punters clamber up and down them with as much excitement and force as a middle-aged man off to Curry's on Black Friday to buy a plasma telly. This makes it impossible to escape the guy that's been trying to chat you up, and also means trips to the bar result in buying two gin and lemonades at a time; this will only spell disaster.

The crowd is either freshers desperate to meet Phil Mitchell or the AU sports teams dressed as crisps

If you make the unfortunate mistake of going out on a Wednesday, it's impossible to avoid AU night. You'll end up trapped in a corner talking to Ryan from the rugby team (whose designated fancy dress is Wotsits) while he boasts about wrestling in a paddling pool of his mates' sick during initiation. This will be your destiny, the only way to escape is to join the queue of excitable freshers for a picture with Dean from Love Island (even though you're questioning whether there even was a Dean on last year's series).

It's expensive

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Unless you visit Level on a Wednesday (after my last point surely not) drinks will cost you a bomb, and not the jager kind. Unlike most clubs in Liverpool where they offer 2 for £10 cocktails or £1 shots.

It's not even near a good takeaway

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This one doesn't sound like a big deal, because Liverpool city centre isn't massive, but for me it's a deal breaker. Stumbling out of Baa Bar you're taste-buds tantalise upon the smell of Harper's next door. Even leaving the Raz blurry eyed you can spot Hot 'N' Tender in the distance. Level leaves you with two options: walking to McDonalds, which at 3am seems as far away as Manchester, or staggering into a random one on Bold Street that will definitely make your impending hangover and stomach ache a lot worse.

Don't be fooled by Quids In taking place here now, there's countless other options available for a boogie and bev with your mates, so go anywhere but Level.