Vote now: Stirling’s worst halls
At the University of Stirling, you study on one of the most beautiful campuses in the world.
Your view walking to class is almost unparalleled; all rolling hills, massive lochs and stunning greenery.
However your view as a fresher arriving on move in day was probably a lot shitter. Whether you went for ghastly Geddes or wonderful Willow, we all know that halls isn’t exactly a walk round the loch. But which one is the worst?
We’ll let you decide.
Despite being officially “on campus”, Ally Court might as well be fucking Narnia. A 20 minute trek to Cottrell is one way to wake you up at 9am on a Monday morning.
Even if you decide to skip your lecture and the accompanying marathon, you can forget about a long lie. The walls here are so thin, you can hear your neighbour farting.
At least you get your very own laundry room. Just a shame you have to share it with all those new Ally Court Townhouse wankers.
Ah the Gheddo, training ground for many future delinquents and breeding ground for their STI’s. Halls is all about getting to know people, and that’s a certainty in Geddes where you have the pleasure of sharing one tiny kitchen with 14 repulsive strangers.
That’s all housed in a building which is guarded by a po-faced porter right at the front door, making it impossible for you to sneak your desperate Dusk pull past them after 1am.
But never mind if one of your two toilets is broken: you can always piss in your blocked up sink, conveniently located right beside your bed.
You’ve sneakily managed to avoid being tarred by the Geddes brush by going for the second cheapest accommodation. Well done you.
Unfortunately, you’ve been plonked right across from them, doomed to observe all the wild kitchen parties you’ll never be invited to.
With Geddes right ahead of you, Willow to the side and Beech behind you, you’re constantly reminded of all the things you’ll never be: cool, rich, fun.
The newest of our sorry lot is the extravagant Beech Court. Because daddy’s bank account knows no bounds, these freshers and returners drink their Russian Standard brand vodka on a couch in a proper living room and then whitey it back up in their private bathroom.
Filled with international students and people who think they’re better than you, but in reality they’ve just gone straight from being a knob at private school, to being a knob at uni.
The only difference is no one cares about your bank balance, no matter how loudly you shout about it in the queue for Fubar.
See Beech but with added restaurant in the foyer which might be the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. Just look at them.
I don’t know how the people of ASH feel after having their posho thunder stolen by Beech and Willow, and I don’t care either. If you so absolutely can’t share a bathroom with someone else that you’re willing to pay through the nose, then you must be hiding something.
Included in the cost though is a mysterious flute player who can be heard at all times of the day and night, but no freezer.
At least you have a lovely little concrete courtyard out the front to welcome you in.
Fraser of Allander, HH Donnelly & Polwarth
These three houses are almost indistinguishable from each other which is a shitemare when you’re trying to find your way around that weird stone alcove after a mad one at Skint Tuesday. Tripping over a stoner sitting on the steps is not the best end to a night out.
You’re also guaranteed to feel like a shady punter entering a seedy motel when you pass under the overly aggressive “Keep Quiet!” signs above the doors. Inside isn’t much better.
It’s bad enough that you’re paying the uni a fortune so you can live in shit halls, but you don’t even have the added benefit of being on campus. The bus it is for you.
But the worst thing about life at Union Street is the noisy, inconsiderate fuckers actually enjoying uni, while you, the hard done by student nurse tries to get some kip before your 12 hour shift the next day.
Actually, maybe the worst part is all those killjoy student nurses constantly complaining about noise as if they were expecting halls to be all classical music off by 9.30 and cups of tea.
Spittal Hill/Pendreich Way
After the initial excitement of being able to call your flat a “chalet” has worn off, you soon realise you’ve made a massive mistake. The Scandinavians might get some things right but living in a wooden hut is not one of them.
I know you had a great time at Butlins when you were 9 but do you really want to relive it day after day, while trying to get a degree hanging on Dusk vodka and surviving on Union macaroni?
That’s if you haven’t already killed your flatmates over who gets the biggest bedroom.
Occupying that weird space between uni and town, resulting in either a trek in to uni, or everyone on the bus judging you for being a lazy wanker. Ditto when you get the bus into town. We’re all thinking it.
Although to be fair you might not be physically up for the walk if the mould all over your room has started taking hold of your lungs.
Cast your vote and defend your people. Don’t be a pussy, just do it.