All the talk of Halls of Residence
reminds me of my arrival at High Hall, Birmingham Uni in the autumn of 1985.
When I went to the Uni for my interview, there was a guided walk round campus given by some well-meaning chinless wonder. Someone asked him about accommodation.
"Oh, try and get into xxx Hall, or at a push yyy. But don't got to High Hall, it's full of the dregs".
Thinking to myself that the sort of person who was happy and willing to sacrifice his time showing prospective would-be students round the campus was not the role model I wanted to emulate during my time studying (I was thinking more along the lines of John Belushi myself), I put High Hall down at the top of my list and unsurprisingly got in - as everyone else seemed to have been shunted there after failing to get into the more salubrious halls. Of course, I didn't do anything sensible like visit the hall of residence first...

...so come arrivals day, I turn up at a 25 storey block of flats. This is High Hall, hence the imaginative nomenclature.
First shock: when my name is located on a list of all the new arrivals, I'm told - "11-10 - that's a shared room".

Ah. I have to share a room. Oh well.

Then I get to the room. It's not that big. The door opens onto a wall which houses the sink. There's enough room for two beds, two desks, two wardrobes, two shelves. There's about 3 foot of space between the beds. It's a small shared room. Whoever I'm rooming with, we're going to be intimate.

I've got there first though - so I pick the "best" bed (not that there's anything in it) and unpack what stuff I have, then head off to the campus to sign up for loads of societies I end up never attending.

I come back to the room a few hours later, open the door, and a larger than life Freddy Mercury is staring at me.

This is 1985, and Monsieur Freddy, as Julian Cope called him, had a successful solo album out called "Mr Bad Guy". This pictured Freddy, resplendent in 'tache and mirrored shades, looking gayer than a window. I basically opened the door onto a four foot poster of Mr Mercury that had been pinned up on the wall by my room mate.

Who appeared in view, sporting a similar 'tache to his idol's.

And a cravat. In purple if memory serves me.

And said "Hello, my name's Jeremy".

My room mate for the next year.

Actually, he wasn't of the homosexual persuasion, not that I think it would have freaked me out if he had have been - it was just quite a way to get introduced to the room mate I didn't know I was going to have. I wonder where he is now ?
( I_Was_Mordred, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 15:29, 7 replies)

You did better than my brother
he went to Birmingham uni in 1990, but forgot to apply for accomodation and ended up in Griffin Close (which has now been bulldozed).
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 15:48, closed)

Griffin is no more ?
Crivens. That used to hold lots of students. I was there in my fourth year, when I was married and with child (file under "things not to do when you're at University, page 1).
Mind you, it was miles away from campus *and* next to Northfield, one of the roughest parts of that side of Birmingham.
And it held probably over 1000 students without having a bar or shop of any kind - the former probably as it was on Quaker land, or somesuch strange Brummie tradition.
( I_Was_Mordred, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 15:57, closed)

Colonel D...
I lived on Griffin for 3 years - it was the location of the piss family story (http://www.b3ta.com/questions/voyeurism/post93348). And it was worse than you could possibly imagine. It was only the utter bankruptcy and inability to afford anyting else that kept me there.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 15:57, closed)

Yup Mordred & Enzyme
Griffin Has gone and i'm not sure what they replaced it with.

I was only 13 when my brother was there, but I remember thinking "There's no shop or bar here, and it's a long way from the uni". I made sure I applied for halls nice and early when it was my turn to go to uni.

In one year, my brothers car was broken into 3 times. Nothing was ever taken.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 16:09, closed)

...
There was a bar by the time I was there - obviously some special dispensation from the Cadbury family, who had donated the land on condition that it was dry and without a shop - but my car was broken into several times. There was a couple of burnouts, too.

I went past a couple (5?) years ago - as I recall, it's now tiny, soulless Barratt-type houses. The site must be cursed or something.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 16:20, closed)

A few years later...
Just to reassure you that nothing's changed, "High Hall" was probably still pretty much the same two years ago; internet access, rooms that weren't damp and decent catered food had all passed it by.

Last year too many people complained about it and the uni responded by turfing everyone out before Christmas!

Despite having a cell-like room though it actually wasn't that bad (living in the smaller building attached to the massive tower block we actually got the internet!), one memorable night's entertainment consisted of watching what we could only assume was a huge drugs raid on a house across the road complete with numerous police cars and a helicopter from the comfort(?!) of our own rooms!
(Ella Mentree, Tue 22 Jan 2008, 2:57, closed)

High Hall - ahhh that takes me back
I was in 3-10 in 1990...well for a term or two before I dropped out, anyway. Lec Eng and I parted company when I realised I preferred working live event PA's in the Guild and drinking a lot more than academic life. I went back a couple of years later onto a different course, older, wiser, and did some coursework, popped out in 95 with a degree.

But, I'll never forget my morning march down from High round the lake, feeding my soggy toast to the geese outside Mason Hall. Or the mass of snow we got up there one year.

Best of all - was it ever tried, I don't know, but urban folklore has it that if all of High Hall flush the loos at once, the water hammer effect is enough to momentarily overspill the bogs at Mason, thanks to the hill and sewer pipe layouts. This can only be a good thing, as trendy types get accepted into Mason. Only bitter scum like me ever get to stay in High...
( 0nyx, Tue 22 Jan 2008, 18:21, closed)