City Rat to Country Mouse: How St Andrews Changed My Perspective

Upon being informed that her future self would be attending a small-town Scottish university, sixteen-year-old me would be aghast. Even in first year, lamenting my city upbringing, I asked myself more often than not “What the f**k am I doing here?”

Having grown up in London, I was reared on the fast-paced city life. I spent my time blanking strangers while memorising the Tube map as if speaking tongues. To me, a thirty-minute TfL adventure was easy work: London offered huge diversity in things to do, broadening as I became a teenager.

Imagine my horror upon discovering that one could go from one end of St Andrews by car to the other in 10 minutes tops, that there weren’t seemingly endless iterations of chain stores, and that my life as a diehard clubber was to become a bygone era. It sends a shiver up the spine of a girl proudly from ‘SWLDN’.

Initially, I found St Andrews’ obsession with quaintness and tradition frankly embarrassing. In London, historically relevant buildings were all around me, and nobody gave a toss. Why should I care that once upon a time, some pilgrim came and did some virtuous deed here? Unfortunately for my old self, I had to admit that leaping ceremoniously over the PH to ward off misfortune is fun. And while I once enjoyed yelling lyrics across the dancefloor of Ministry of Sound or Heaven for fun, now singing in Sallies Chapel, gown and all, genuinely does it for me. 

Finding love in St Andrews definitely beats embarrassing Wetherspoons trips and treks across London that make the relationship feel long distance. Bonfires at the beach and Lade Braes walks hit the spot a little better. In such a small community as St Andrews, mutual friends can provide reviews for any potential suitor. Aside from the fact that using Tinder here proves mortifying, it isn’t necessary with the town’s real-life meet-cute possibilities. Someone living across the hall from you in DRA can be a continent away when they’re home, providing an unusual opportunity to meet people from all over the world.

When the time comes for the holidays, London can seem overwhelming. Seeing more people at King’s Cross in a half hour than in an entire day in St Andrews is a feast for the senses, and not necessarily a positive one. The aforementioned huge distances across the city render my sympathy for all those with the misfortune of living on Lamond Drive or Tom Morris Drive almost obsolete; while in St Andrews, 20 minutes seems like an unbearable commute, I’d be lucky to reach the next London borough in that time. 

In short, St Andrews stripped me of my standoffish, socially anxious London persona and made me appreciate a slower pace of life. It’s nice to walk down the street amidst a sea of friends, not strangers. Now, I love to lie stargazing on Castle Sands (which feels icky to admit - go on, vomit a little in your mouth at that one). I’m not even mad about the abundance of sand in my shoes, socks, or bed afterwards. Do I look forward to living somewhere a little more populous after I’m done here? Sure. But when I think of home, St Andrews will remain my strongest association for a while.

Image: Alex Barnard