Riviera on the North Sea

It is amusing, being from the Mediterranean, to witness how the world has begun to glamourise our lifestyle. Back in France, my friends and I used to idealise the United States for its work opportunities, lavish lifestyle, socialite culture, and ambitious mindset. Somehow, it felt like the epitome of success. Now, it seems we have made a full 180-degree turn, rebranding what was once dismissed as a ‘lazy European lifestyle’ into the highly desirable "slow life."

At its core, the slow life is about rediscovering small pleasures — a healthy work-life balance, good food, a glass of wine at the end of the day, standing on a balcony to enjoy the sun, enjoying a meal out without it costing a fortune. St Andrews is cold, darker for most of the year, and, let us be honest, the food is arguably a bigger issue than the weather. And balconies — oh, balconies! I firmly believe they should be a communal right rather than a privilege, yet here, people can barely open their windows because of the security restrictors.

Despite our complaints, associating the slow life solely to a few places in the world sets ourselves up for failure. The slow life is not a geographical reality — it is a state of mind. Of course, eating out cheaply and sunbathing with a morning coffee may not be the easiest luxuries to replicate in St Andrews, but the slow life is not about where you are, but how you live. It is easy to embrace it for a week in Rome, but if you return to St Andrews and immediately succumb to stress because "it is just too stressful not to do anything" then you will miss out on the true benefits of the slow life, which has to do with stress-management.

Let’s be honest, we all return from reading week somewhat relieved to be back in the library and feeling productive. But this is precisely the mindset that allows us to be happy and relaxed only for a few days a year. Do not get me wrong, everyone has to study hard, find a job, and figure out what they want to do with their lives. And sometimes slowing down only makes one anxious about not working towards those goals. But that is exactly why getting accustomed to the slow life and using it as a healthy mechanism is necessary.

Consider this: if you accelerate a car for an extended period and then suddenly slam the brakes, the car will eventually break down. On the other hand, if you drive at a steady pace and slow down gracefully when needed, you ensure that you won’t crash. If we spend an entire semester accelerating without pause, only to then suddenly shut down for a week during spring vacation, we risk burning out rather than recharging. Keeping a steady rhythm, with moments of rest integrated into our routine can better help us stay focused, and probably keep us more cheerful. 

St Andrews has its own potential for a slow life. The pubs, the colourful March sunsets, the sunny days of spring, and the beautiful coastline all offer moments to pause and appreciate life. It took me three months to discover that two pubs here serve a decent Aperol Spritz, and now that I’m in the loop, I let myself indulge in a little Italian bliss in the evenings, thinking of home. But this applies to everyone, your own slow life can be found anywhere. Step out of the library, and you are immediately on Market Street, where infinite possibilities for a happy hour or a coffee break await. And if you are in search of something special, walk just a tad past Tesco, and enter the cathedral known as Taste of Scotland for some of the best French Malbec in town — for those moments when you need to rediscover the existence of flavour.

Studying hard does not exclude the possibility of slowing down every once in a while, and you do not need to book a weekend in Spain to do so. I will be at The Keys right after the library for an Aperol hour — and as we say in the South, Qui m’aime me suive!

Image from Wikimedia Commons