My first year at Exeter

I went to Exeter after a year taking a MSc at Strathclyde.  I lived in the centre of the city in Balmanno Building, Rotten Row and it was.  Nevertheless, I enjoyed my year in Scotland which I saw as a return to my native heath, albeit many generations back.   The research I did there for my dissertation on Scottish Nationalists was highly productive.   I could have stayed at Strathclyde for a PhD, but my prospective supervisor disliked the English.  It was a race to get my MSc dissertation submitted and then travel down south overnight 'on the cushions'.

Exeter was a big contrast to Glasgow. At the end of the 1960s was a rather sleepy county cathedral town, although much of the historic heart had been destroyed in the blitz.  The M5 was still on the drawing board.   As for the university, it had a quite strong contingent of minor public school boys who couldn't get into Bristol.  There was even said to be one hall of residence reserved for those who had been to public school.  A very different city and university to the Exeter of today.

My first year at Exeter was probably the least happy of my life.  This is not to say that there were no positives, but the second year was much better.   I didn't know the town so I was pleased when a local contact suggested a bedsit in St. Thomas's across the river.  It was a decent bedsit in a nice area, but it was 25/30 minute walk into the university, not that I minded that.

A PhD is necessarily an isolating experience, no one else is as interested in your topic as you are, but we were a small cohort at Exeter.  As there were no training courses for PhD students in those days, it took me some time to actually meet fellow PhD students like Mike Hawkins.

One positive was that I was able to hit the ground running with my work, essential as I had only two years funding left.  I had come to Exeter because I wanted Jeff Stanyer as my supervisor and he didn't disappoint.  He was thorough, encouraging and meticulous. 

Jeff Stanyer (right) in conversation at the 2016 reunion

I also became friendly with Terry who was working as a research assistant: indeed, her boss banned me from her office for distracting her, but we just went off to the Northcott Theatre for coffee.  Although Terry came from a very different background from me (girls private boarding school), we got on well (she was engaged to a politics PhD further on in his studies).

When we walked across the marshes in 2016, I asked Terry what her recollections were of me.  She said that I was the sensible person in the room (not so difficult in a university).  However, she (and her friends) thought I was uptight.   I think that I was still afflicted by imposter syndrome in a university environment, particularly one like Exeter.  I had confidence in my intellectual ability, but was socially less assured.

Terry made an effort to give me a cooler image.  Her parents owned a company producing suede goods and she let me have a suede jacket at cost.   I loved it, but Jeff Stanyer thought I was more suited to the kind of old fashioned sports jacket worn by train spotting gricers.  In 2016 Terry recalled selling the suede jackets in the rain at Glastonbury several years later.

Terry came to my 70th birthday party (as did Annie and Mike Hawkins).  Her former fiancé was also there, but did not recognise her and asked her name which she described as 'interesting'.

Subsequently I had to give evidence at the Sennedd in Cardiff on a couple of occasions and took the opportunity to have an early evening meal with Terry.  On the last of these occasions, probably knowing we would not see each other again, we hugged for a long time prompting the taxi driver to ask 'what's the story with that one?'

Thinking back on my friendship with Terry, I recall that my parents had adopted a sister for me when I was about seven.  Her father was a widower and when he found a new partner he wanted his daughter back.  My parents (rightly) agreed, although the LCC wanted to fight it in the courts.  I can still remember seeing Karen walk down the road with her father and I tbink that ever since then I have looked for a sister figure iny life.

My PhD was data heavy and in that first year I had to use a machine called a counter sorter. (They are so retro, I couldn't find a picture of one).  This involved putting through a set of data cards (one for each local authority in England, many more then) through  this machine, some of which inevitably got chewed up.   Tabulations had to be noted down manually and any statistical tests worked out on paper.

I did try and get involved in some university societies and I became secretary of Amnesty International. I enjoyed the film club.   I visited the Isles of Scilly for the first time in 1970 with my parents and in later life I was to enjoy them a great deal, inspired by my original visit.

It wasn't a wasted year, because I made great progress on my PhD, but it wasn't a happy one.

Second year ar Exeter here: https://uniexeter6971.blogspot.com/2023/09/my-second-year-at-exeter.html