My first day in Bristol

I first came here to visit the university prior to an official university open day. I'd been considering Chemistry and had very reluctantly agreed to study a language with it under pressure from my dad and stepmother (they/she wanted a child at an Oxbridge university and I'd refused so had acceded to do a language to stop them hassling me). So my dad drove me down/across (depending on where I was staying, I can't honestly remember) sometime in the autumn of - let's date me somewhat - 1991.

All I really remember about that age was that I was exceptionally naive about life, had bundles of intelligence with little knowledge - but was convinced I knew everything, that I had formed opinions that would never change in my lifetime and that any advice I received from those older than me was easily dismissed because 'they didn't know what it was like to be me and I'm different'.

In short, I was a typically retarded 18 year old. And they seem to get more retarded every year don't they? :-P

Anyway, in those pre-internet days I looked up the address in the UCCA handbook (ah, those days pre-UCAS. Modern students really haven't got a clue) and we set off. In one of those ways in which British - though mainly English - men communicate I'd been told by someone who'd been to Bristol before that we wanted the A4018 and to turn left after the BBC building.

[Note: While it is often said that English people talk about the weather a lot, this isn't true. English women talk about the weather a lot. Real English men will discuss how long it took them to get to where they are, what road they used and had they, in fact, ever considered taking the 'A4024 via Filton as it's normally much quicker?']

So we arrived in Bristol and followed the signs to Clifton (as the university address is Clifton, this was not unreasonable.) Unknown to us at the time was that to get its mitts on a fashionable and desirable Clifton postcode the university had to get the council to 'slightly redefine' the boundaries of Clifton itself so that the Administration Building came under BS8 (see diagram - and it's not a joke either).

This meant that in reality we were heading to the wrong part of town, and being men, we were incapable of asking for directions - this officially makes you either 'female' or 'gay'. We drove around for quite a bit, saw the Suspension Bridge (photo included, it's coooooooooool), the zoo, the zoo again, lots of hills and the Suspension Bridge again (but from below this time).

We were lost and incredibly close to making the only compromise allowable in such circumstances - we may have to buy an A-Z of Bristol - when lo and behold! What's that up ahead? It's the BBC! *we allowed ourselves a moment of smug indulgence.*

This lasted about 30 seconds until we turned left into the car-park of the Bristol Bathroom Centre.



We bought an A-Z in the end. :)

This week Red Squirrel recommends:

The footballing method called 'scoring more goals than you let in'
The lifestyle choice of not changing yourself just to please a demanding woman
The beer Becks
The barmaid Amy
The TV repair people of anyone but 'The Tech Guys'
The album MOR by Alabama 3 - it rocks
The use of storage units as a way of meeting women who have just split up from boyfriends - Shelley, call me!
The food Thai