MY FIRST TERM: Teething pains and social gains

There are three things that stand out in my mind about my first term at University College, Durham. First, there was the moment when I got out of the car, looked at the building in front of me and realised that this was where I would be living for the next two months. Of course, I had known for ages that this would be the case, but it was never actually real until I experienced that four-hour drive, until I drew up with my suitcases in the back and suddenly thought, "It's a long way home".

Whether you live five minutes down the road or in another country, I imagine that that moment is the same for everybody – that little leap which has to be made from seeing yourself as a child, however unconsciously, to seeing yourself as an independent person. Some people already had made that transition – a gap year is a wonderful thing – but for me, the idea that I might be responsible for myself threw me into a state of shock.

It was only later that questions such as "How do you work the washing machine?" "Does this mean I have to pay my own bills?" "Is it beer you should drink before cider, or the other way round?" hit me like one of those anvils from the cartoons. By then my parents were a fast-disappearing cloud of dust, and I had to find out the answers myself through a process of trial and error. It was the one about the beer and cider that caused me the most difficulty – but that was yet to come.

When the feeling had passed enough for me to observe my surroundings more closely – and move in the direction of the entrance – I made my second discovery: everyone was smiling. A lot. I'd never seen so many smiles in one place before. It was as if everyone was so anxious not to lose any possible chance of making friends that they grinned at everyone they saw, just in case the recipient was their new next-door neighbour. What's more, all these new students were not outlandish creatures with multiple piercings and bizarre clothes, they just looked like people. Gone were the stereotypes that abounded at school and even in sixth form; there was no prejudgement here. Throughout those first weeks, I didn't meet a single unfriendly person – some of them became my friends, some remained mere acquaintances, but they were all nice.

Making friends was surprisingly easy – for someone whose idea of hell used to be being forced to converse with an endless series of new people; the experience was remarkably free from torture. Having a room mate was a good place to start, but even if I'd been given a single room, there still would have been the people in my corridor and in my building. We were all going through the same process: sorting out courses (a hassle, but it has to be done), joining societies (definitely worth doing, but don't join just because the guy at the stall is persistent in trying to sell you the Arctic Bathing Society), going to the bar (that happened a lot. But on the whole it was a lot more sensible than you've probably been led to believe. I mean, I don't think I know anyone who actually died from it).

Then there was the work. Again, that was less difficult than I'd expected. For a pass, the work is no harder than A-level; if you want something better, that's entirely up to you.

If there is one piece of advice I can give anyone about to go to university or college, it is this: don't judge it too soon. Personally, I had a great time in freshers week, but I know several people who found it all a bit much. It is easy to become overwhelmed by the sheer number of things that simply have to be done at the beginning, but if you stick with it, you'll find that, for once, whoever it was who invented the cliché was actually telling the truth. I can't remember when exactly my third realisation took place, or whether it was even a single conscious moment, but my first year at university has been one of the best times of my life.

ADVICE FROM ANNA

BE SURE NOT TO LEAVE HOME WITHOUT...

* A kettle, a couple of mugs and tea/coffee. You'll spend a lot of time in your first weeks visiting and being visited, so it's always nice to be able to offer a drink. A packet of biscuits wouldn't go amiss either.

* A lamp. Essential for all those long nights spent poring over essays or equations.

* Your railcard. Without it, trips away from your university town – as well as the end-of-term journeys home and back – will add up a lot more quickly.

* Some sensible shoes. You will end up doing a lot of walking – and those delicate little heels probably aren't the best thing to pound pavements in.

* A few posters. They don't take up much space in your luggage, but instantly make your new room feel less like a cupboard.

* Plenty of clean socks and underwear – so you can put off doing your washing for as long as possible.

BUT DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING...

* Too many clothes. Once you arrive, you'll realise that you're never going to wear half of them. And anyway, with all the trawling through charity shops you're going to do to find the next fancy dress outfit or bargain piece of clubwear. And then you're going to have to take them all back home again.

* A credit card. You really don't need it – trust me!