Summer is here and having been cooped up in libraries and lecture theatres for the last eight months many of us see the long vacation as a chance to indulge our wander lust and seek out countries new. But getting out of the bubble is not always easy; for students the rising cost of train, bus and plane tickets can seem extortionate. For the eco-conscious student traveller, it’s also difficult to ignore the fact that these gas guzzling modes of transport are incredibly damaging to the environment. Even if you’ve got cash and no conscience, the journey itself is often uncomfortable, smelly and boring. You can wind up being broke, guilty and disaffected, all before you have even reached your final destination. But there is another option: thumbing a lift, catching a ride, taking a free trip…

There are several things that spring into my mind when I think of hitchhiking. On the one hand there is the hazy, idyllic image of Simon and Garfunkel laughing by the roadside on their way to look for America; the happy, expectant faces of those trying to catch a lift from one end of the country to another clutching their destination boards at the side of the motorway. On the other hand I can’t shake the association of Simon Armitage’s poem ‘Hitcher’ in which the psychotic narrator describes how he picks up a free spirited wanderer, beats him to death and then watches his unfortunate victim bounce off the curb as he speeds away, telling him that he can ‘walk from there.’

Aside from poetry and dodgy B movies, there are some very real and terrifying examples that show how hitchhiking can turn into a nightmare.During the 1990’s Australian Ivan Milat murdered at least seven hitchers (five of whom were backpackers visiting the country) in unprovoked attacks which shocked the nation. We know these types of cases are rare, but when they’re catapulted into the media spotlight, they’re certainly unnerving. 

If you want a clearer picture of the reality of hitchhiking, it’s always worthwhile talking to some people who actually do it. Sian, 20, studying at the University of Sheffield is a great advocate of thumbing a ride. “Hitchhiking,” she claims, “if done safely, is an incredible experience. You meet so many different kinds of people; it really restores your faith in humanity.” Andy, 20, at the University of Bradford agrees, saying that the hitching “makes the journey as important as the destination; it makes it into an adventure.” Andy first started hitching short distances whilst in Ireland on holiday with friends, more recently however, he has hitched to France and Italy. He found the idea of encountering all kinds of different people from all walks of life to be an exciting prospect rather than a scary one. As Andy points out, because “you don’t necessarily end up in a car with people who share your world view” the interactions hitchers have with those offering lifts can be very intense. You are walking into a complete stranger’s life and walking out again hours later having left your mark. 

None of the individuals I spoke to had encountered any serious dangers whilst travelling, probably because they had all planned their trips carefully and adhered to some basic safety rules. Kirsty, 21, from London advises first time hitchers to observe the make and registration of the vehicle before getting into it, and “try to sit in the passenger seat if you can” she recommends. Andy continues, “get a good spot to stand where you can be seen, hitch with friends rather than alone and if you don’t feel safe getting into a car then don’t! You tend to get a sense of the people who stop.”

Despite the many positive reactions to hitchhiking, there are some definite downsides. Hitchhiking may save money but it doesn’t necessarily save time: whilst we may be frequently subjected to delays in airports and at train stations, the perfect ride is even less likely to turn up just when you need it. Kirsty agrees that her preferred method of transport can be quite time consuming. She spent her Christmas vacation hitching to Germany and back but ended up being stranded there; eventually arriving home almost a week after her university term had started. Andy concedes that there are downsides to hitchhiking but sticks firmly to the philosophy that “you have to take the rough with the smooth.” Recently whilst hitching Andy found himself in the freezing cold for hours trying to get a lift out of Verona, Italy.  He finally managed to hitch a ride at 3am from a man who had driven past him earlier but decided to turn back and pick him up out of the kindness of his heart. Clearly this sort of experience is touching and it is easy to see why, with cases such as this, hitching can be truly said to reaffirm your faith in people.

Whilst it seems that most people hitching lifts do not encounter any serious dangers, it is definitely not a risk free mode of transport. It certainly shouldn’t be attempted by anyone who has not planned their trip very carefully, and preferably should have discussed it with someone who has experience of this way of getting from A to B. That said, it is environmentally friendly, cheap and can transform a journey. If, at the end of the road, you find that it is difficult to decide whether to give hitchhiking a thumbs up or a thumbs down perhaps it is worth trying it for yourself: in the words of Armitage’s free spirited hitcher ‘the truth… is blowin’ in the wind.’

Mary Poppins knew it – a bag really is all you need. The staple of any stylish wardrobe, an amazing bag can lift an outfit from dull to dazzling in one swipe of a student overdraft-enhanced debit card.

Now, before you get all cynical on me, I am only a recent convert to the bag dream. I floated around for years carrying a Gap brown leather tote (‘just because it’s useful and it goes with everything…’), Asian fakes, a cloth ‘gap year bag’ and everything in between. At one point, I even had a black handbag and a brown handbag to go with different outfits, breaking the first law of fashion: don’t match all your accessories unless you are the Queen or Margaret Thatcher.

I was vocally scathing of my two best friends, with their bags that cost more than, well, a lot of things. I came back from my gap year with ‘experiences’; they stayed at home and earned enough to buy a shoulder ornament. But the more I looked at their bags, the more I saw how beautiful and, dare I say it, functional, they were. It was undeniable that they gave any outfit a bit of class, a bit of style. Somehow, even leggings and a baggy hoodie become slightly cool, slightly off-duty celebrity, when combined with big sunglasses and a gorgeous bag.

So, ready for ridicule, I announced my intention to buy a nice bag. Not outrageous money, but still a distinct investment. Luckily I had expert advice on hand to point me in the direction of some names that ‘you’d probably like’. It’s always good to find a designer that suits you and I did my research quite thoroughly. Starting on somewhere like netaporter.com gives you an overview of what’s around, then you can Google the designers you like the look of. There are a lot of bag blogs out there, as well as forums where you can ask questions about your would-be-purchases.

I found my nice bag. It leapt out at me: shape, colour, material, quietly ostentatious and classic. The very fact that I liked it set off warning bells in my mind, so I quickly forwarded the link to my much more tasteful friends, who confirmed the unthinkable. I had fallen in love with the right one! A few weeks on my favourites list, where it sat, waiting to be clicked during essay-related Wikipedia searches and Facebook sessions, and I knew it was to be mine. Not one for making such an important purchase on the Internet, I waited until I was in London to abuse my bank balance and bought The Bag in Harvey Nick’s, after playing with it in front of the mirror for a few minutes. And within a few short days, it became a part of my life.

There is something undeniably lovely about having a bag that goes with everything and improves any outfit. Whilst you might argue it’s a waste of money to spend a lot on something that could cost next to nothing on the high street, if you get the right one, you will probably have made a wise investment in terms of wears to the pound. A good, classic bag will last for years and will not date like a Topshop equivalent, which everyone has anyway. And you will join the quietly superior club of people who just know that what you’re carrying is a little bit special.

So if you have one expensive item in your wardrobe, let it be a good bag. It really will have the power to do anything – except, perhaps, to hold your hat stand.

Hooray Henries and riff-raff have been replaced by sloanes and chavs, but we still seem to need words that essentially differentiate between ‘us’ and ‘them’. Most societies have their aristocracies and their proleteriats, but it is a very particular society that can subtly distinguish between middle-middle class and nouveau riche, upper middle and trying too hard.

And in England we have lots of ways of distinguishing between our classes, whether it is brand names like Kappa and Reebok, Ralph Lauren and LK Bennet, or accents, first names and slang. A ‘chav’ might be called Tracey, wear a full tracksuit, gold hoops and a Vicky Pollard Croydon facelift ponytail, whilst Sloaney Mimi might wear a cashmere jumper, a pashmina and loafers. But there are so many variations and few hard and fast laws.

The Jack Wills problem, for example. One, quietly logoed pair of tracksuit bottoms could sit perfectly well on upper-class legs, ‘not because it’s Jack Wills, just because they’re so old and comfortable…’ but woe betide the top-to-toe JW wearer, who is likely to be painfully middle-class. The more logos, whatever they are, the less classy the look. Just look at the WAGs compared with Kate Middleton. You’d never know where half her clothes are from, but you know they’re not cheap. In short, there are so many rules and so many exceptions.

So, if you want to find out the Seven Deadly Sins (according to social anthropologist Kate Fox) that will show you up as a pretender to the upper echelons, read on. But it’s worth noting that if you care too much about them, then you’re probably trying too hard (another cardinal offence and symptom of class pretensions). Oh dear…

1) Pardon

Jilly Cooper wrote in her 1981 book ‘Class’ that “I once heard my son regaling his friends: ‘Mummy says that pardon is a much worse word than fuck.'” The word ‘pardon’, to the upper and upper-middle classes, is an unacceptably lower-class signal. If you’re upper-class you’ll say ‘What?’, and if you’re upper-middle, you might say ‘Sorry?’

2) Toilet

The higher classes say ‘loo’ or ‘lavatory’, the middle classes might say ‘ladies’ or ‘bathroom’.

3) Serviette

A ‘serviette’ is a pretentious middle-class word for what the upper-classes call a ‘napkin’.

4) Dinner

The word dinner itself is fine, but only to describe an evening meal (using it to describe a midday meal is sniffed at). Dinner is a more formal term than supper, which might be an informal family meal. Using ‘tea’ to mean an evening meal, rather than scones (not sc-owns, but scones with a short ‘o’) and jam, is also frightfully lower-class.

5) Settee

‘Settee’ is common, sofa is upper-middle or above. Couch is American.

6) Lounge

Settees normally come in lounges or living rooms, sofas come in sitting rooms or drawing rooms.

7) Sweet

Amongst the upper classes, the sweet course at the end of a meal is always ‘pudding’, not ‘a sweet’, ‘afters’ or ‘dessert’ (although ‘dessert’, as an Americanism, is the least offensive).

It is clear that the English, whilst we bang on about integration and inclusion, are always coming up with new ways to discern between upper and lower, haves and have-nots, pretentious and effortless, us and them. And each subclass has its own fashions and faux-pas.

And, at Oxford, where we’re supposed to make new friends from all walks of life (OUSU euphemism for ‘from all classes’), the truth of the matter is that we all end up with fairly similar circles of friends from fairly similar backgrounds.

In Fox’s words, ‘every English person (whether we admit it or not) is aware of and highly sensitive to all of the delicate divisions’ of class that surround and mould us.

But to successfully navigate through all of these different kinds of people, neither offending nor pretending, with enough self-confidence to feel fairly comfortable anywhere? Now that is a real sign of a touch of class.