No return visit to the old hall of residence would be complete without a visit to the old rooms that played host to my errant self during those five gruelling years.

So when I went there during the week, I stopped by room A41 where I spent my first year, meeting new people, learning to play chess, and discovering Don Williams.

Then I went to room A52 where I met even more people, ate more food, listened to more music and read more books. The walls of that room is witness to so much history. My last room was D20, and I went there too. I did not go in because the current occupants do not know me and I was not in the mood for introductions.

I also visited the reading rooms, the toilets, the cafeteria and the new basketball court behind the warden’s office. In some way, it was as if I never left. In other ways, it looked like an old prison cell housing a bunch of inmates just waiting to burst loose. There are no monuments to my stay in the hall, fortunately, and I slipped out just as I slipped in, anonymously, taking the memory again with me as I left.

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