Anxiety.

There will have been a lot of it about lately among all those students waiting for word about which university they might be going to, or if they might be accepted at all.

Apparently, a record number of these hopefuls will have received their A-level results by now, so leaving them to decide what to study and where. 

I can be a little bit smug here; this sort of thing was never a problem for me. In fact, only one person in our entire family went to university and that was years ago when a cousin of mine managed to pass the test and get a place, in spite of her having a difficult upbringing.

The thought of university was just never considered in our family; it was seen as something only privileged kids did.

The best that the rest of us could do after leaving school was a brief spell at college and then going straight out to work.

Oddly enough it was only when I got a job in TV that I was asked which university I went to.

Over the years I did sometimes wonder what it might have been like actually going to one, being among fellow students who seemed to be having a ball a lot of the time. 

Now, suddenly I can say with a degree of honesty that I have been to university.

Admittedly, it was only for a week at a summer school for students of musical theatre, but it did give me a taste of what it might be like to live on campus.

This was at the University of Lancaster, and my what an eye-opener. It was massive, with extensive grounds, a swimming pool, restaurants, cafes, shops, even a hairdressers.

I was in a guest room so didn’t see what student accommodation was really like but my little nest was pleasant and had all the amenities with one exception: there was no TV.

I can’t remember the last time I stayed anywhere without one and when I asked why there wasn’t a set I was told that students didn’t need it.

They all had laptops and smart phones, and they don’t really watch telly nowadays anyway.

Never mind, I thought, I can catch up with the news on radio through my phone and there would always be the newspapers.

And then I found out that they didn’t stock papers on campus because students got any news they wanted online. 

Call me old-fashioned but I say nothing beats turning over those pages and digesting analysis and comment on the events of the day.

Surely, there’s room for both the printed page and the online screen?

The summer school I was at is held every year at Lancaster University. While the regular students are away groups like ours take over and bring in some welcome funds to help keep the place afloat.

At the same time as we musical types were there about 400 Mormon students were gathered from all over the country to share their faith. I talked briefly to one young chap when I asked him the way (I was constantly getting lost) but though he was polite enough he wasn’t keen to talk. Maybe he’d heard me singing. 

This year university students are being advised to choose their degree courses based on passion and not on hard-nosed commercial prospects, advice I’d certainly agree with.

For what it’s worth, in my seventies I’ve found that even if you don’t get that degree straight away it’s never too late to try again or even go for something different.

The world is your oyster.