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A young man with a backpack and a book stands on a busy cobblestone street at dusk, surrounded by people and glowing neon signs. A clock tower is in the background.

A young man with a backpack and a book stands on a busy cobblestone street at dusk, surrounded by people and glowing neon signs. A clock tower is in the background.

So, I started my Mathematics course at Leicester Polytechnic in the autumn of 1989, having to scramble for accommodation as I didn’t get the email that anyone joining from less than 100 miles radius of Leicester would not get a hall of residence place. Not getting a place in the halls of residence meant I was meeting and making friends with all sorts of people near where I was renting. Looking back, I would say “I got in with the wrong crowd” as I went a bit OTT with student life in my first year. Most nights of the week, I was out clubbing or attending a house party until the wee hours of the morning. I could hardly remember much about the house I rented, and I was falling asleep a lot in lectures. Luckily, the curriculum was not too hard, and the assignments were short. Money-wise, it was a bit tough. Each new term’s student grant went to pay off last term’s overdraft as soon as it hit my bank account, and the overdraft cycle starts all over again. I remember I had to eat from 99p hot dog cans a lot. The first year went really quickly, and most of the friends I made during the year were never to be seen again. Let me explain: not sure about now, but back then, when I mentioned I was going to Leicester Uni, people would joke, “you need a passport to get there, right?”. If you have never heard that before, I will not propagate the slander any further. So, most of the students there have strict family traditions, and they tend to let their hair down as much as possible once See more