My best night of first semester: a fresher’s perspective

We have balls in Wellies, ruin bar parties, and even an Octoberfest in Spring. But as First Year Stella Gage explains, sometimes the best nights come from elsewhere.


What makes for an amazing night out in St. Andrews? Is it the uniqueness of the event? The popularity of it? Is it the open bar? With so many events going on at all times, it can seem overwhelming to choose which one to go to. What if you make the wrong decision? Last semester being my first ever at this university I was awestruck by not only the number but the diversity of the events at our school. One thing I quickly learned, however, was that it wasn’t the events I had been going to that were making me have such an amazing time, but rather the people that I was attending them with.

My best night last semester was towards the end of term in early December. My academic mum had contacted me and my academic siblings a week earlier to say that she wanted to have one more pres with us before the semester ended. Me and my siblings, always up for an excuse to go out, told her we would love to: “just give us a date and a time and we’ll be there”.

A week later I was getting ready for a Christmassy bop. With tinsel and jingle bells around my neck, I went over to mum’s flat and met up with everyone. Though it was just five of us preing in her flat, we were having an amazing time, but soon it was onto the next step of the evening.

Slightly tipsy, we all made our way over to Sallies for our second pres of the night–a post-pre pres if you will. Now this was what I was used to seeing, people hanging out in a dark room, listening to blaring techno music, packed into a small space like sardines. There were probably 30 people crammed into that little room, but we squeezed our way in nonetheless. Sweaty and loud, these pres were fun but not bearable for an extended period of time. So, what do you think we did? On to the next thing again.

By this point my siblings and I were all tipsy and sweaty and a little tired. We decided some fresh air would do the trick in livening us back up a bit, so we headed to the beach. Let me tell you going down the hill down to West Sands in the dark whilst drunk is a true feat. With some help from my academic brother I made safely to the rock where we all sat and chilled out.

After a little chatter and laughter, we felt rejuvenated and ready to take on the main event of the night: The Bop. We got to the Union and started with some drinks at the bar and then made our way into 601. When we arrived to say it was poppin’ would be a lie. But, we had each other and a bar so we were going to be okay.

As the night went on and drinks were flowing there was dancing, chatting again, and many more laughs. 601 got insanely busy (like there was a queue out the door busy), but I truly don’t think any of us noticed. Sure, it makes an event even better when tons of people are enjoying it together, there was something else making my night so amazing and I wasn’t sure what it was. I found myself looking, or quite literally, searching for how the event had made me have so much fun.

The music was great, a mix of techno and pop remixes, making everyone want to go over to the dance floor and get their groove on–but nothing I hadn’t heard at other events. The outfits people were wearing were Christmassy and fun. I saw people accessorizing their outfits, with use of tinsel and jingle bells all the way through to actually dressing as Santa or the Grinch. The screens on the walls were playing videos as they usually do during a bop and it was fun to see what quirky, weird Christmas clips they came up with. All this was fun and fantastic, but I didn’t know why I felt differently to when I had gone to events in the past. What had made my night?

Then it hit me as I looked around. As I laughed and danced the night away, it was my mates that had such an impact on how high my spirits were. After my realization that night I’ve found that as long as you are with friends whatever event you’re at will be a good one.


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