Graduation week has been a jam-packed, thrilling yet exhausting experience and also the reason I have had no time to post anything before now. The day of my graduation, Thursday 27 June, began in the early hours of the morning when I awoke at 6am, unable to sleep any longer. A similar feeling of the Christmas eve butterflies in your stomach you get when you’re a child, mixed with the terrifying vision of falling over on stage were enough to have me feeling fully energised. The day passed in a blur of photos, laughs and emotional ‘end of an era’ hugs, topped off with a helping of free champagne at the afternoon garden party.
That evening my Mum, Dad and I ended the day in style with dinner at the Fairmont hotel, just outside St Andrews. Only a couple of bites into our starters, a pair of very nonchalant firemen strolled through the lobby and headed upstairs. A few glances amongst munching diners were exchanged before a shrill alarm sounded accompanied by a loudspeaker message instructing everyone to exit the building. Quickly, I shovelled in another mouthful of my delicious goat’s cheese and potato croquette, grabbed my bag and headed to the door. My Mum was somewhat lagging behind us all and an impatient waiter was attempting to usher her towards the exit…unsuccessfully. She was not only loading up on the bread -because ‘you never know how long we’ll be waiting outside’ – but was also taking time to butter all the slices, because even during an emergency situation, you don’t want dry bread.
Eventually, she also joined us outside, much to the waiter’s relief. Fortunately, it was a false alarm, so I didn’t even get the chance to benefit from my Mum’s reckless bread-buttering. Life lessons learnt from the near dinner emergency are my family’s priorities in life. Nevertheless, had my goat’s cheese starter gone up in flames, I would have been very grateful for the replacement.