Leaving

My last summer at uni, I took a heap of photos, attended every party.  I knew I’d had the time of my life and that it was nearly over.  At the end of term, with my friends, I stayed until we were on the verge of being thrown out.  The place had a sad, half-empty feel about it and on our last evening, we took Annabel’s model of a Viking long boat, set fire to it and pushed it out onto the fellows’ pond.  Our own last rites.

In fact, owing to a failure in arrangements, I was even there for one night after the final date for departure and slept like a fugitive in a deserted room.  It really was time to go.

Pascoe and many of his University of East Anglia friends however, left in style.  There was one last massive LCR party, with fairground rides and Sara Cox DJing as they bopped the night away.  And for many, an all-nighter was really the only option as the rent ran out on their student houses weeks ago so there was nowhere to sleep.  But even that gave rise to one final magical moment when a number of them strolled down to the edge of the lake (the UEA Broad) to see the dawn rise. 

They definitely left with a bang not a whimper.