A Spotter's Guide to the Students of Bristol

Description:

Features writer Chloe Banks takes a humorous look at the Greater Spotted Bristol Student


So, you're planning a trip to Bristol? Perhaps you've just moved here for a new job or to be closer to family? Maybe you're visiting Britain for the first time and have decided that London is just not enough? Whatever brought you to our city, now you're here you'll be looking for something to do. You must of course saunter along the suspension bridge, gape at the gorge and meander through the museums. By all means take a picnic in our parks, enjoy our steam ships and admire our street art, but, whatever you do, don't leave before trying the noble Bristolian sport of Student Spotting.

Bristol has a rich and diverse population of students, many of whom can be spotted in the city streets and alleyways. Some can even been seen during daylight hours. Among the 416000 inhabitants of this gracious city, lurk - during term time at least - over 25000 students. They dwell in various habitats but there are two main colonies where they congregate in order to eat, drink and perform their complicated mating rituals. These two colonies are known locally as ‘The University' and ‘UWE'. Your first task as a serious spotter is to identify which of these colonies an individual of the species belongs too.

This initial identification is of great social importance. If you should ever come into contact with a student, correct identification of colony allows you to tailor your conversation to suit their understanding of the world. For example, sensitive comments you might like to make if confronted with a talkative University colonist might be, ‘Why didn't Cambridge let you in?', ‘I thought you'd be in Oxford' and ‘Wasn't the fox-hunting ban the greatest decision the British government ever made?'.

Similarly, it is considered only polite to drop the word ‘polytechnic' into as many conversations with UWE students as possible. They may however, have to ask you what it means. At first, the cultural differences can be quite confusing. The word ‘ski' for example means an all-expenses-paid, twice-yearly trip to the Alps with Daddy's credit card to University students, whereas, to UWE students, it's a type of yoghurt. However, once you have safely navigated your way through this identification process you can start categorising your subjects into sub-species.

The sub-species you will come across most frequently is the Common Ra, Jackus willus. The main activity of this group is to frequent coffee shops, putting as much effort into looking effortless as possible. It's not that they can't afford to buy hairbrushes - oh no, that look took hours to achieve, I'll have you know! The male of the species can normally be seen in board shorts, designer polo shirts with the collar turned-up and flip flops; the females in miniskirts and rugby tops and, weather permitting, Ugg boots and pashminas. Please don't make the mistake of thinking that just because they run their hands through their hair every two minutes, that you can too. Outside of Enid Blyton books, ruffling the hair of the younger generation is sadly frowned upon in Britain.

Once you've ticked the Ra off your list the next one to look out for is the Greater Drinker, Partia animalius. You may occasionally spot one of these from mid-afternoon, but the best time for a bit of P. animalius spotting is Friday or Saturday evening outside one of the city's many splendid night clubs. Watch out for the distinctive little black dress or tutu of the female form and the ubiquitous jeans and open-collared shirt of the male. If you wish to engage with these specimens, shaking a WKD bottle or holding up a sign saying 2-for-1 should entice them over. Warning: do not attempt to make contact with any group of females if one or more of them is wearing L-plates, sashes, veils or fairy wings. It can get nasty.

The Wannabe jockus are the American-style sports players. Commonly known as ‘The Team', they can be recognised by their hooded clothing bearing the names of their clan on the front, along with a pithy slogan and nickname on the back. Should the weather make such clothing inappropriate, look out for the characteristic swagger, or for signs of racquets or rugby balls concealed about their person.

The last of the common sub-species is the Typicalis studentus or Greater Pyjamaed Sloth. You will spot these in newsagents and corner shops buying milk for their breakfast cereal. At 2pm. They may well be wearing kitsch pyjama trousers and vest tops because they're cool. Much too cool, in fact, to waste time with the social norm of dressing to leave the house. They still usually find time to put a bit of make-up on though. They may appear casually laid-back, but they will be checking out of the corner of their eye to make sure you have indeed noticed their attire and are admiring their care-free attitude.

The most unusual sub-species of note is the industrious Actualli studious, once thought to be so rare that the national media declared society had all but wiped them out. It had been thought that to spot one at all you would have to sneak silently into libraries or lurk in specially constructed hides, close to assignment hand-in boxes. However, we can exclusively reveal that this sub-species isn't that rare at all. Many specimen individuals can be found in both colonies, on every course, in every lecture hall and corridor. They may not wear academic gowns and round spectacles, they may look suspiciously like members of another sub-species, they may even look exactly like you or me, but let me assure you they are there. So while you indulge in your student spotting try looking around; there may be a hard-working and committed student sitting at that table next to you, or opposite you on the bus. After all, you can't believe everything you read...

 

Chloe Banks is a freelance writer living in Bristol.


The views expressed are those of the writer, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Guide2Bristol.