75p pints and girls in Def Leppard T-shirts – student life was better in the 80s, trust me: OPINION

Simon's brief stint as a student was the most fun he has ever had

IT’S an oft-used cliche that ‘the school days are the best days of your life.’ Not for me, they weren’t. But my further education days once I’d moved away from the place I grew up in? Now you’re talking.

On this corresponding third Monday in September 32 years ago, my life was to change. I was to slowly shed my slightly shy, socially awkward 18-year-old persona and emerge as a far more confident young adult nine months down the line.

On this day in 1987 I moved to Cardiff, to start a one-year National Council for the Training of Journalists (NCTJ) course. It was only a 36-week course, but it was the best 36 weeks of my life. For it set me up to embrace life.

I needed to move away from home, to meet new people who remain friends to this day. And, inevitably, to drink far, far too much. We were training to be journalists, don’t forget.

I wouldn’t say I hated my secondary school days, but I certainly didn’t enjoy them. In total contrast, I loved my all-too-brief time in the halls of residence at the South Glamorgan Institute of Higher Education. I still can’t believe pints of lager in the student union bar were 75p. I could balance one on my forehead and sort of limbo dance my way around a pool table without spilling it. I was so full of youthful energy I could leapfrog over postboxes.

Now two pints in a Portsmouth pub can cost the best part of £8. Eight quid! I could get 10 pints for that price in Cardiff (with 50p left over). And no, I can’t leap over postboxes any more, I’d do myself a serious injury.

It was all great, it really was – especially when we had a 1am pillow fight and my mate was knocked unconscious into a flower bed. Happy days.