So, you’ve landed in Leeds. Congratulations! You’ve officially entered the realm of questionable kebabs, Wednesday night Fruity, and the eternal quest for a decent house in Hyde Park. My name’s Alex, and I’m here to tell you, it’s a wild ride.
First things first: the weather. Don’t believe the brochures. They lied. Leeds weather is a sentient being with a personal vendetta against sunshine. You’ll experience all four seasons in a single afternoon, from biblical rain to that weird, humid sun that feels like being licked by a warm, damp dog. Invest in a good waterproof. And a hat. And maybe a boat.
Then there’s Hyde Park. Oh, Hyde Park. A place where the bins overflow with questionable substances, the soundtrack is a constant medley of student anthems and the distant rumble of a rogue moped, and the squirrels are plotting world domination. You’ll learn to navigate the labyrinthine streets, dodging rogue footballs and suspiciously cheap house parties. Your flatmates will either become your best friends or the people you silently resent for leaving dirty dishes in the sink. There’s no in-between.
Let’s talk about nights out. Fruity? Iconic. A sweaty, glorious mess of chart toppers and questionable dance moves. Beaverworks? Prepare for a sensory overload. And if you survive the queues at Mint Warehouse, you deserve a medal. But remember, the real Leeds experience isn’t about the clubs, it’s about the pre-drinks. The art of squeezing twenty people into a tiny student kitchen, fueled by cheap vodka and questionable playlists, is a skill honed by generations of Leeds students.
And the food? Oh, the food. You’ll become intimately acquainted with the questionable delights of the takeaway strip on Otley Road. You’ll learn to distinguish between a “proper” chip butty and a soggy, disappointing imitation. You’ll discover the hidden gems of the Corn Exchange, and the wonder of a proper Sunday roast at the Original Oak. And if you’re brave enough, you’ll attempt to conquer the legendary “Parmo” at some point. It’s a rite of passage.
But amidst the chaos, there’s a real sense of community. You’ll find your people, whether you’re into obscure indie bands, competitive board games, or debating the merits of different types of gravy. You’ll spend hours in the library, fueled by caffeine and the shared anxiety of impending deadlines. You’ll watch Leeds United, and feel the collective heartbreak and elation of the crowd. You’ll discover the beauty of Roundhay Park, the charm of the independent shops in the city centre, and the unexpected thrill of stumbling upon a hidden vintage market.
And when you finally graduate, bleary-eyed and clutching your degree, you’ll look back on your time in Leeds with a strange mix of nostalgia and disbelief. You’ll miss the chaos, the camaraderie, and the sheer, unadulterated madness of it all. Because being a Leeds student isn’t just about getting a degree. It’s about surviving the Hyde Park Hustle, and coming out the other side, a slightly more eccentric, and infinitely more resilient, human being.
So, welcome to Leeds. You’re in for a wild ride. And remember, if you see a squirrel wearing a tiny hat, just run. Don’t ask questions.
Submitted by Alex Redmann
