It is not often that I venture outside of the Courier office, but I’ve ended up touring the country in recent weeks. And while I may journey outside Newcastle, I will never stray from the familiar comfort of a Wetherspoons pub.
Last weekend’s trip to London, for example, culminated in a late morning, mad dash for sustenance. A seven-hour Megabus journey just isn’t viable on a hungry belly, and there’s no better remedy than the beloved Sunday roast. While plenty of tried-and-tested hangover cures occupy the Wetherspoons menu, I found myself drawn to something less conventional - the lamb shank.
Fresh from a slow-cooked cruise to hell and back, the lightest nudge of my fork was all that was necessary to displace the meat from the bone: as tender as my poor, aching noggin. So, if you ever find yourself dizzy from the latest roast-worthy political blunder, perhaps talk it through in the company of some willing listeners, and with a comforting, mighty-fine cut of meat.
Since the building of the Henry Daysh monolith, I’ve come to think that the majority of my student loan has been going towards the finishing up of said project. However, after experiencing the wonder that is the Henry Daysh toilet cubicle I don’t think I would really complain.
I'm in second year, so my workshops and lectures are still strewn about campus like last week’s copy of The Courier. At the start of this semester, the Henry Daysh became my new haunt for Monday mornings. I was awestruck. The building not only comes equipped with a high balcony, but also some of the finest toilet cubicles on campus.
But what makes these cubicles so wonderful? Well, each toilet cubicle comes equipped with a sink, hand-dryer, toilet paper roll and sanitary bin. WOW! Even more, each cubicle is also all-gender, so not only do I never have to worry about walking into the wrong toilet, but also nor does anyone else have to deal with the guttural funk of my recent sauerkraut obsession. In a word, the Henry Daysh toilets are sublime.
So it’s a Friday night, and if (like me) most of your friends have far more active social lives than you or a bit of alone time is long overdue, there is nothing better than entering the sane, cathartic and immersive space of a cinema. For a reason unbeknown to me, cinema trips are seen as group events, a day-trip out with friends or family, which upon reflection is a slightly ridiculous notion. Let’s face it, how often do you actually needto talk to anyone once inside a cinema?
There are a plethora of perks of going to the cinema alone but namely, there is the opportunity to select a perfect seat, you can avoid any human interaction (which in this 2020 is a godsend) and more importantly, absolutely no-one cares that you are there alone. Once those lights go down, it's just you and the screen, so you can comfortably slump into that cushioned chair and get lost in a whole different world.
Spending time alone does not need to be synonymous with loneliness and pity, but instead merely an effort to escape the turbid essence of university and adulthood.
So lets destigmatise the underrated greatness of solo cinema trips!