To campus, or not to campus. Is this the question?

North or south? Big or small? Collegiate or not? Even if you fully intend to choose which university to go to with the aid of a blindfold, pin and map, such questions are bound to creep into your head as soon as the phrase ‘UCAS form’ is uttered.

But, this ex-campus university student will argue, the answer to the deceptively simple question, ‘campus or non-campus’ could be the most important decision of all.

Get this wrong, and you could end up realising one term into university that you’ve experienced the entirety of its social scene, or in your fourth year, still getting lost in the sprawling city you have made your home while trying to find the library.

So how do you know whether campus or non-campus is right for you?

First of all (and this is something all you humanities students-to-be will have to get used to) let’s define what we’re talking about. The term ‘campus university’ generally refers to a purpose-built university with its own grounds and facilities (for some reason usually established in the 60s –that heyday of beautiful architecture). These are often a slight distance away from the nearest town or city, or on the outskirts. Warwick, Lancaster and York are all examples.

Civic universities are those with multiple sites, built in cities or large towns, and university life and city life are very interlinked. Confusingly, the multiple sites are also known often as campuses. Universities such as Manchester, Sheffield or Liverpool fall into this category.

Already, armed with just this sparse information, most people begin to have an inkling of the differences that this distinction contains. With no further ado, a minority of school leavers will already know in which direction their path lies. Can’t live without being able to wander high street shops, trendy boutiques and shopping malls at whim? Live music fanatic who has to be within stumbling-home distance of a decent selection of venues? The answer’s clear my friend: a campus kid you ain’t.

But for most, the distinction isn’t that easy. Some of the best universities in the country are campuses. They’re renowned for the strong sense of community, a sense of belonging to something you can feel proud of lasting way beyond graduation. Halls near to lecture theatres, decent union facilities, and there’s a reason why the phrase ‘everything you’ll ever need’ is usually to be found in the first three lines of any campus university’s marketing blurb.

This can sound attractive even if you’re simultaneously craving the excitement of the city life (small towners) or are reluctant to let it go (urban dwellers).

This is why many students end up in Warwick promising themselves they’ll be bigging it up in Birmingham every other week, or Sussex with every intention of being a near-permanent fixture of Brighton.

But the sad fact is: campus universities suck you in. Warwick for example, where I spent three very happy years, is known affectionately as ‘the bubble’. Getting out of campus, even to Leamington or Coventry in the first term or two, seems to require the kind of mental and physical exertion only welcomed by the Oxford or Cambridge rowing teams. Not to mention an up-to-date bus timetable and keen sense of direction. (On an unrelated point, I know many, many graduates from Warwick who have not once ever set foot in in the town after which the university is named. The campus is, sadly, on Coventry’s doorstep.)

So be prepared that it may be more difficult to rouse up the troops and get them on a train to the nearest city than common sense and logical reasoning would suggest. In reality this is part of the charm of a campus university. Especially in the first year, normal life is suspended and the concept of travel is forgotten. Practically the only people you’ll see in term-time, until you move out of halls in the second year, will be students and those teaching them. Don’t be surprised if, when emerging for the holidays, as if from a dream, you get freaked out after spotting a child. It’s easy to forget what they are.