I was transported back to my favourite student room in Bangor. It was accessed by some precipitous stairs, through a trapdoor and into the roofspace. I'm quite short, but even I could only stand in the middle of the room thanks to the steeply sloping roof. A skylight afforded a great view of the yachts' masts in the harbour, and the mountains. On windy nights, the yachts' bells and ringing created a beautifully, unearthly sound.
All I had in there was a bed and a chest of drawers containing two pairs of black jeans, two black shirts and a black leather bikers' jacket. Books and records were piled up against the limited wall space. By the bed was my 1970s record player and unutterably crap speakers, reachable without having to crawl out from under the duvet. Black and red Doctor Martens boots were tucked into the corner. Black clothes, DMs, very long hair and extreme slimness - what a stereotypical student.
The records which were on constant rotation were classics of the 90s: The Boo Radleys' Giant Steps, Emperor Tomato Ketchup, Gorky's Zygotic Mynci's wonderful 10" Patio (pop-psychedelic Welsh-language teenage genius) and Elastica by Elastica. I have two copies of that - I fell out of bed and the crash scratched the first track. I'm still sad about that, but it meant that I could legitimately order the US release which has an extra track on it. Elastica did good specials: 'Stutter' is on a 10" transparent gold platter with glitter scattered inside. My tastes widened, but I still think these albums have stood the test of time.
On a quiet morning, I could lift the needle on something cool, grab a book - often some critical theory or a fat 18th-century novel like Pamela, feed biscuits to the mice which played at the foot of the bed and settle in for a day's indulgence.
That was my second year at university. Later on, when I came back for an MA, I moved back into the same dark, musty, cosy house. My room had been declared unsafe for accommodation (trapdoors and drunkenness don't mix) so I paid an extra £5 a week rent (making the total £38 per week) to use it as a library, books ranged in endless rows. Unfortunately, one of my dubious Irish housemates left the skylight open in a rainstorm and damaged huge numbers of them - totally unapologetically.
I loved living in that house. Surrounded by freaks, hamsters, guinea pigs, a tarantula, hugely stoned juggling goths, a Swedish psychopath and assorted weirdos all finding each other highly amusing. The next year was another story entirely…
2 comments:
...and which category did I fall into?- freak or assorted weirdo?!! That room was fab, though I'm surprised that none of us suffered serious drink-related injuries going up and down through that trap door. You've got me all nostalgic now.
x
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