During these cold winter months, in which – thanks to that pinnacle of British construction, breathable walls – I wake up in a freezing room, I find great solace in hiding beneath my blanket.
My best memories of gallivanting around Europe were of parks. They were found in the tranquility of self-reflection as I enjoyed the serenity of nature, clutching my too-expensive coffee and watching the ducks swim about in the river as the cold winter wind whipped the fallen leaves off the ground beside me.
On being accepted into Oxford, everyone warned me about the reading lists. “You’ll be reading eight hours a day,” they said. At the time, it sounded almost romantic.
It's Thursday night in New College's Long Room, and several dozen students are desperately trying to master The Plough Speed, which, for the uninitiated, is a mind boggling routine of side-steps, spins and shuffles.
The experience of moving away allows us to mature. But what happens when we re-encounter past friends, only to realise we've outgrown them... is it time to move on?
As most Cambridge students head into exam term, C Sunday constitutes a final hurrah, expending all their energy before knuckling down. The spirit of revelry, somewhere between a Bacchanalia and a large-scale fraternity party, was infectious.
On quiet St Clements Street, a warm glow welcomes guests from behind an unobtrusive facade – Pan Pan restaurant promises a casual and comfortable dining experience.
In the summer before starting university, with my place at Oxford secured, and the reality of the impending plunge into the unknown beginning to dawn on me, I embarked on a three-week long solo trip around Italy.
"Ultimately, getting better is not about erasing the past in the promise of the future; it is learning to say your name with a smile, knowing it has always been yours to say and will continue to be."