We shan’t go to any more general open days now. You can’t travel to every university that might just be of interest, particularly in my case as the mother of twins.
“It’s really difficult to decide, because Birmingham was in the rain but Warwick was in the sunshine,” says Carenza.
She’s right – was the student who showed us round Birmingham actually wearing flippers or is my memory playing tricks? At Warwick, however, the sun warmed us as a butterfly wafted past.
“Do you think open days actually make it harder?” asks Perran.
I don’t answer at once. It’s true that lists of course modules and photos of accommodation are all on the web now. Isn’t an open day really something of a show? Sometimes passing a locked door in a department, I have heard a muffled sound from within and wondered whether that is where they have incarcerated the more shambling members of staff, lured away from manning the displays by the promise of chocolate hob-nobs.
On the other hand, when you visit, you do get a feeling for that indefinable quality that the internet cannot convey.
“Which one felt more like home to you,” I ask, “Birmingham or Warwick?”