This weekend I take what has become my yearly trip down memory lane. I return to Birmingham, where I went to university. I love to go back and feel all those feelings of nostalgia. I spent four years there after all! We will probably visit some of the same bars that we used to frequent and walk around remembering what came before. It is nice. I met my wife there of course, and for that alone it would have been worthwhile. It also provided me with a life experience that has stood me in good stead. Aston University is an excellent university, they trained me most of the way - I took the final steps myself during my pre-registration year. I have many strong and vivid memories of university life.

The first day of arrival, the loneliness and fear of the unknown. I was in a total inner turmoil for a few days, totally panicked by the situation and very homesick. A few weeks and a few friends later and it was completely different. I lived in halls of residence in my first year there. My flat was on floor 12 (20 floor buildings) sharing kitchen with nine others and our two flats of nine on floor 12 shared the bathroom area that consisted of three toilets and two showers. Living in halls is a mixed blessing, on one hand everyone is two minutes away and the pub can be reached by walking across the road as an after thought (unlike the following three years at university when a social gathering took major organisation). It feels like a big community, it's fun, there's always someone that wants to do what you feel like. On the other hand the petty stealing of other peoples food from the fridge and freezer. The familiar smell of cannabis that seems to permeate nearly every flat. The loud music coming from someones room, but in a tower block you cannot quite figure out who the person responsible is, so who do you go yell at?

I very slowly introduced myself to 'clubbing' and nights at the student union. I was a teetotaller and therefore had a rather unique perspective on these situations. It was often hilarious. I changed my hair style... twice, by january of that first year. I started to become vastly more confident in my social skills. I learned to live within my means, I actually had money leftover. That doesn't mean much unless I qualify it, I could have started with oodles couldn't I? I started with nothing, my parents were not well off. I had the student loan and that was it. I had £300 of that student loan leftover by the end of my first year. I spent an average of £3-5 on a night out due to not drinking (and not buying any drinks, I let everyone buy into the cheap yorkshireman routine), I spent about £10 a week on food, I had no TV, I bought only a couple of the texts that were recommended and instead spent extra time at the library to use those texts. As you might be able to tell, I was immensely proud of myself for all this. I finished the year modestly in terms of results, lower second class (2:2), as it was all four years...

That was nine years ago! I'm 50% older than I was. Are things as different from 18 to 27 as they are from 9 to 18 I wonder? I think the answer is yes. Anyone that thinks they've grown up by 18... maybe I shouldn't finish that. There might be someone twice my age thinking that I haven't finished my growing yet, you never do though do you? Nobody has all the answers, everyone is still growing up.

I think we all love going back to rekindle those memories and that adventurous spirit that we all had before we got responsibilities and jobs etc. So meeting up tomorrow night allows us to revert to type! Birmingham, by the way, is a fabulous city. Home of spaghetti junction, the Bull Ring shopping centre, Aston Villa Football Club!