Park Village is hell on campus

Park Village is so bad no one even talks about just how bad it is, that changes now

As a first year, I had the very high expectations of meeting my second family in my halls; taking group selfies, going on mad nights out, having take aways round the table, and laughing about our crazy flat antics. I thought wrong. Very wrong.

The cliche of East Slope being a bit of a dive is nothing compared to Park Village. Yes we can all laugh and tease those who live in East Slope that they have to deal with noise and infestations but Park Village is the quiet victim on Sussex campus that simply deals with all the crap that is probably smeared all over the walls.


It’s just straight up grim

My bed was probably used by Hungarian sex slaves – a lovely thought.

Park Village is where hopes and dreams go to die. East Slope has a rep for being the grottiest place on campus; but as a Park Village survivor, I would far rather live in East Slope for several reasons. They’re basically the same price point, give or take a tenner or so. Fun fact – Park Village used to have brothels being illegally run in them; a fact I share at home to exemplify just how horrific my uni living experience actually is. At least East Slope is known for being social.

 The terrible kitchen

Someone as short as me should not be able to touch both sides of the kitchen simultaneously.

My kitchen is tiny. I didn’t expect a luxurious pad kitted with private chefs and every gadget I could dream of, but as a keen cook myself, I was in shock. If I stretch my legs enough, I can touch both sides of the kitchen. It is tiny.

Visitors to my humble halls have looked on in sadness at my lonesome kitchen in which two people cannot stand without having some form of awkward bodily contact. I am frugal. I would have loved to have gotten a weekly delivery but instead I have to live off Co-op food because I can’t fit more than a tenner’s worth of things in my fridge. If I want to freeze and meal prep? Forget it. It’s every man for themselves in terms of freezer space.

Lack of furniture

£90 a week and nowhere to sit and eat.

The next problem; no tables or chairs resulting in loneliness and a very smelly bedroom. As a self proclaimed middle-class domestic goddess, I like to think that Park Village is trying to introduce some kind of foreign culture where everyone sits on the floor to eat – like the Japanese.

However, the absence of any dining space results in a majority of my meals alone, in my room. For the first two months I have never felt more lonely or isolated.

Did I mention it was lonely?

I missed home from time to time, as is standard, but for the first month apart from lectures, seminars, societies, and pre existing friends I would go back to my halls and talk to no one. Freshers was hell on earth. My flat mates, from what I have seen of them, look like nice people. You don’t bond however, with people in corridors – or in my case, being right next to the showers and loos – when they need a piss.

So I barely know my flatmates…

You do not make quality connections with people when you cannot all be seated or stood in the same room. And – not that it’s a bad thing by any means – some of my flatmates are quite introverted. Meaning that unless they stop and chat to me on the stairs or in one of our kitchens I have no reason to see them or talk to them.

2 of my 11 flatmates dropped out and I didn’t even notice till I was told. I’ve met one flatmate twice and he won’t accept my Facebook friend request. It is a truly surreal notion to act like the person who lives above you is non existent when you’re like me; an excitable puppy who dreamed of making as many friends as possible. It just didn’t happen, which is ok and perfectly natural, just not what I had intended for the people that I live with.

Oh yeah, the Ladybird infestation

At least they helped with the loneliness a bit.

I was taken back with genuine disgust and horror at the ladybird farm that resided in my room. I gave them all names to begin with – Ruby, Scarlett, Garnet, Burgundy, Maroon, Crimson etc. But there were just too many. And it’s not just my room either. They were everywhere.

Loud music and whining children surround my block

Park Village looks harmless from the outside.

Screaming children are another nuisance. You gradually adjust to the low throb of some random drum and bass song from the flat opposite but the sight of screaming 4 year olds being picked up at 7am for school will never cease to baffle me when they are surrounded with hungover students.

The showers are blocked

That could be any one of my 11 flatmate’s hair.

Finally, a personal vendetta against our showers.  I am not opposed to sharing a shower, it’s just due to the temperamental nature of one of our showers, we often have to resort to using 1 between 12 of us. That’s if there is still 12 of us there – my god who knows. It’s been months since I’ve seen some of my flatmates. Every shower, because of the blocked drains, the water always reaches mid calf even for a quick shower.

 That being said, I will redeem my ladybird infested halls; I will miss the fact prime location between Bramber house, East Slope Bar and my ability to leave my room 5 minutes before a lecture and still make it on time.

But most of all, I will miss the smug satisfaction I have over the Northfielders and the Swanborough residents knowing I’m saving £60-70 a week on rent alone so I’m only slightly less in debt than them. Other than that I bid goodbye Park Village at the end of this year, I will not miss you.