Does Size Really Matter?

“No, it’s too small…It’s not worth my while” she says. “Oh come on! It’ll be fun…I promise” he replies, in a persuasive tone. “Oh go on then, but not for long…” she finally concedes, reluctantly. Sounds familiar? Yes, it’s that all too recognisable conversation that we have with our friends from home when we try to persuade them to come and visit our quaint university town.  It’s a task that is much more challenging than one would expect. They just don’t seem too keen to leave the metropolises of Nottingham and Bristol to make the journey up north to this petite yet idyllic mining town. Their argument; it’s just a bit small and rubbish.

Admittedly, it is small. It looks like a glorified village with a big church and its population of 40 000 pales in comparison to the half a million that live in Manchester and the 430 000 in Bristol. Solace can be taken from the fact that we are a bit bigger than St Andrews, which has a pitiful 16 000, but that isn’t saying much. Durham sure is tiny. There isn’t even a McDonalds for crying out loud, something that can surely only be said to be a negative reflection on any settlement. So what are the knock-on effects for the everyday student?

                A lack of quality fast food is one, as I have just mentioned. So is a lack of shops, that aren’t charity shops and restaurants that aren’t Italian, but most importantly there’s a lack of clubs that aren’t bad. With only six in total, a couple of which no one ever goes to and one of which is the worst club in Europe. We haven’t got the strongest line up of night spots, it has to be said.  With this in mind, it starts to become apparent why those Bristolians and Mancunians aren’t that keen on shelling out 50 quid for a train ticket.

          But they’re missing a trick. From the outside, the ecosystem that is Durham may be unappealing, but from within, it isn’t that bad. No, in fact, it’s quite good. Why? It’s hard to put your finger on it. One of the reasons is that everyone’s a student. The club clientele is unsullied bymiddle aged men and desperate cougars who are adamant to make your night that little bit worse. This means you can spend less time being pestered by oddballs and more time socialising/sharking with eligible bachelors and bachelorettes.

 On top of that, there’s absolutely no probability of getting lost (except in the sea that is Academy’s dance floor), which means less time looking for your friends and more time having a blast. Maybe that’s why clubs in Durham close so early, because they’re just so efficient at giving people what they want. By 2am, everyone’s had such a damn good time already that they don’t need any more. They’re full to the brim with fun, they’re sick of it, they need to go home and be bored for a bit.

We don’t even feel the need to turn to elicit substances, we’re already perfectly content with reality seen through a pair of mildly tinted beer goggles. Surely this is a sign of contentedness. While those poor souls at Bristol and Newcastle are necking Mkat and MDMA in a fit of despair about what a shit time they’re having in theirdubstep playing super-clubs, we’re having a jolly old time. High on life, you could say.

So the next time a friend tells you they don’t want to come and visit you because “Durham only has two clubs and they’re both rubbish”, tell them that we actually have six startlingly good clubs, all with capacities in excess of 100. And they’re cheap, offering trebles for just £2 and supplying you with trebly good time as other universities for free.