Jenny Bathurst: "A fond farewell to my university town Eastbourne"

‘You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.’ We hear the sentiment in songs, speeches, advice from friends, but often it’s not until you are living the reality of losing something and find yourself feeling really nostalgic that you realise the truth of the phrase. I suppose a prime example would be parting ways with a partner and later realising that the decision was for the worse and not for the better, but I’ve experienced the same feeling in many other areas of my life. I was absolutely itching to leave the school gates and never have to look at a GCSE again, and then upon leaving the secondary school doors for the final time every bone in my body was mortified at the prospect of never returning.

More recently I visited Eastbourne, my university town, for the final time this weekend whilst my best friends were still in the area before they move onto their next chapter. Due to poor health I spent my final year of my degree at home and somehow had become rather numb to what might be occurring in ‘Ebo’ whilst I was away, and somehow one weekend saying goodbye brought everything back. I was suddenly a real student again, spending money I shouldn’t have spent on stuff I didn’t need, laughing til my ribs ached and even spontaneously getting a (very tiny, I promise) matching tattoo with my best friend on our final day. And then I went home and it hit me. That’s it. I now work full time, and that’s my life for the foreseeable.

From the age of four you have a rather clear path ahead of you for the following sixteen to seventeen years. The likelihood is that you will go to primary school, then secondary school, then some kind of sixth form/college and then a few years at university. Some even go on to sit Masters degrees or even further forms of study, however my journey with education has come to an end, so here I am. And to be truthful, it is extremely daunting.

For the first time in my life, there is no ‘plan’. Well, there is. But the plan is: work for the next forty or so years and then stop working. No exams, no open days, no ‘first lesson of the year’.

Now of course I know that with the many years ahead of me I hope to live there will be a vast array of experiences and future challenges, but when the path isn’t clear let alone the peak of the cliff, it isn’t an entirely comfortable experience. Despite all the difficulties I faced during my time at university (more than a few!), I made memories during my time in Eastbourne that I will keep with me forever, and yet my brain refuses to believe that things will change from here on in. I know fresh experiences will arise, but not knowing exactly what they might be is more fearful than exciting at the moment. I am probably one of the few people in the country who seems to look at Eastbourne with such starry eyes, but I believe most graduates look back at their university town with nostalgia and joy. From silencing the entire high street due to my screams when a seagull threw me off balance with its wing, to nearly setting the university accommodation block on my fire when I couldn’t hack the tumble dryers and every other moment that made me cry tears of laughter, thank you Eastbourne.

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