IT is more than thirty years since I arrived as a student in Kingston-upon-Thames.

Arriving by bus with nothing more than a rucksack, I moved into a house with five boys - a bizarre mixture of fashion and engineering students - and set about enjoying life away from home.

Although they were all great, I didn’t stay long in the male-dominated environment, soon moving into an all-female house in South Wimbledon - the down-at-heel end of the district, nowhere near All England Club, and then into a seven-strong house, where I was one of two girls. I remained with this lovely bunch of people for more than two years and had what was, without question, the very best years of my life.

Work was something we dipped into only occasionally. My timetable of around eight hours a week of lectures allowed me to hold down a part-time job in London, where I met the man who was to become my husband.

I am relaying these facts as, recently, I returned to Kingston with my youngest daughter. A course she fancies studying is offered there, so we went to look around.

Going back in time is strange and unsettling. Much had changed. In common with other former polytechnics, it is now a university, much expanded, with a smart courtyard in the middle, replacing the shabby selection of portable buildings which stood there in my day. But the main building was instantly recognisable.

It was odd going in, using the route I had walked hundreds of times as a student. But, however hard I tried, I couldn’t picture myself tying up my bike and racing in with my books.

York Press:

Charter Quay, Kingston-upon-Thames

Where did all those years go? How did I suddenly become a woman in my mid-50s with two teenage children? If I didn’t have photographs to prove it, I would find it hard to believe that I was ever that young, carefree person living from party to party. I took my daughter to the River Thames, where my friends and I would gather, hoping the sight of it would bring back sharper memories, but it did not.

One professor asked for parents to sit on one side and prospective students on the other. How I wished I was 25 years younger and could sign up for student life again.

But would I really want to? I’d have to borrow heaps of money for a start. There’s tuition fees, and rent in the south-east is astronomic compared to the easily affordable amount we paid back then.

I have to be happy with what I had, and support my daughter as she goes forward into her new life. But sadly it won’t be in Kingston - she decided that it wasn’t for her.