“It’s funny,” my friend said to me, gesturing to the wooded area below. “When I left for Hong Kong, my dad said, ‘Guess you’re going to miss a lot of things…like trees.”

It is a common misconception that Hong Kong is solely a mélange of flying skyscrapers, concrete slabs through which men in suits dart back and forth in their financial pursuits. In particular, since I have come to LSE, I realized the place it occupies in most people’s minds is the financial center of Asia, another place to work alongside London and New York. I do not blame them; the Hong Kong government is proud to tout it as “Asia’s World City” and the breathtaking night skyline from Victoria Harbour is a testament to cosmopolitanism that deserves to be admired in books, movies and on the Internet.

But the thing is, that is not all. After living there for three years, I realize my favorite thing about Hong Kong is its ability to be anything to anyone: remote beach town, nightlife hotspot, culinary destination, hiking paradise.

Most people do not realize Hong Kong is actually made up of four regions. The New Territories, the most northerly region, borders Mainland China; then going south there is Kowloon, home of the famous Victoria Harbour with eye-popping views from the Star Ferry and then Hong Kong Island, land of the Peak and, yes, skyscrapers, including the famous IFC 2 which Batman jumped from in the Dark Knight; finally the most southerly region are the Outlying Islands, where no cars are allowed, which are to the south and west of Hong Kong Island. With the efficient Hong Kong transit system, you are never more than an hour away from visiting any of these areas.

If you are ever in Hong Kong, I definitely suggest a visit to any of the Outlying Islands, which you can reach in as little as 35 minutes by ferry from Hong Kong Island. One of my favorites is Cheung Chau, a small island where a long line of al fresco eateries meets you right by the pier. These food courts, called dai pai dong, can either be outside or inside but on a beautiful day, you definitely want to partake in seaside dining. The surroundings are humble – plastic sheets over large round tables seating eight or so, plastic patio chairs and plastic orange bowls  – but the food is sumptuous. Enjoy plates of steaming fresh oysters on a bed of green onions, tiger prawns and toasted garlic, served, of course, with a big bottle of Tsingtao beer with your closest friends as the locals happily chatter in Cantonese around you.

Afterwards, stroll around the quaint island which boasts two beaches. Cheung Chau is especially popular for the week-long Bun Festival in the spring, which commemorates the god Pak Tai ridding the island of plague during the late Qing dynasty. There are lion dances and parades and it culminates in a scramble to the top of a conical tower of Chinese steamed buns. This combination of nature, delicious cuisine, and culture is hard to beat.

After gorging on great food, you can walk it off on any of the breathtaking hikes in Hong Kong. One easily accessible and stunning trail is Dragon’s Back on Hong Kong Island. Start at the legendary Peak Tram and cross the ridges into Shek O Country Park. Suddenly you are overlooking the south side of the island with open views of Big Wave Bay, sheltered by verdant hills and fringed by a long strip of white sand. Similar vistas surround you at the trail’s end when you finish in fishing village Shek O, home to one of my favorite beaches.

If Shek O is too crowded for you, head north to the New Territories to find one of the most remote beaches in Hong Kong. Begin at the bottom of the MacLehose Trail, a 100-kilometer long trail through the region. You can either hike the 13 kilometers to Long Ke Wan, the deserted beach, or cheat and take a cab for ten of those kilometers. At the end of the road, hike some stairs over a mountain dotted with low bushes that shake in the wind as the sun beams down. As you turn a corner near the top, below you a sliver of white sand appears, enclosed by heavily wooded hills. The water can only be described as azure, and on a weekday there is most likely not a single soul on the beach. It is a welcome respite in a city with a population density of 6,300 people per square kilometer.

So, whether you’re an urban jet-setter or nature enthusiast, I guarantee Hong Kong has something to entertain you. And as I look back at my time in the city, I realize, yes, I had many fun nights going out in Lan Kwai Fong, blowing my budget in one of its multi-story, city-block-swallowing megamalls and dining at the endless buffets atop towering hotels. But three years later, what stands out in my mind are the cultural and natural surprises – the hidden back streets and winding trails that took me to another side of Hong Kong. Now, when I think back to that walk my friend and I took three years ago, I remember what I said to him as we looked down at the wooded village: “Yeah, “ I replied with a wry chuckle. “I miss trees too.”

In the early hours of Tuesday morning, to get ourselves prepared for the week ahead, we decided to walk back for over an hour in total, in quasi-Antarctic conditions from a friend’s accommodation at Queen Mary University, East London to our halls. This way, we avoided paying hefty bus and tube fares. On our way back, it was very saddening to see a couple of individuals, one in a tube station alcove, and the other underneath a shop marquee, who were both homeless and forced to sleep in the freezing cold. This really hit home the purpose of our week.

Tuesday morning, I began the day by picking up a £4.00 Ginger Tofu Noodle hotpot from the Crussh Juice Bar in Southwark’; a surprisingly filling brunch, while also being full of protein, and having zero fat – I definitely recommend it. This was followed by a brisk walk to Campus for a relatively early morning lecture, and the aforementioned hotpot actually managed to keep me going through lunch. Slightly concerned with my remaining £1 for dinner, I resolved that I would go to Tesco Express, and buy myself the cheapest deals they had in the shop and make the time for cutting and preparing salad and budget home-cooked meals before I next went to campus. A special deal on a loaf of Tesco Value bread for merely 30p saved the day, and I complimented this with some free jam and Nutella mini-cartons I had fortunately picked up during lunch the day before.  It is indeed possible to have a delicious dinner, albeit possibly not the most nutritious one in this particular instance, and pay virtually nothing for it.

Wednesday morning started off later than usual as it was my day off, and in the process, paying for breakfast was not an issue at all. Lunch was home-cooked chips, seasoned with chili and salt – which, in the words of a friend, “tasted bare peng”. Dinner was a couple of sachets of instant Miso soup with salad – alas, a couple of pending essays prevented me from devoting time to cooking a meal from scratch.

Thursday, started off with cereal from the Bankside canteen, which came to under a pound. Lunch was at the Hare Krishna stall, consisting of vegetables and lentils cooked with rice.  Feeling pretty ravenous after an “intense” badminton session, cooked a meal using £2.50 worth of frozen veggie burgers, and 2 buns which came to just over £1. The ketchup was free, having picked up the sachet earlier while a friend had her lunch in McDonalds.

Friday was a full day. Started off with some porridge, and grabbed a free lunch from the Hare Krishna stall later in the day. I spoke to the vendor about the Hare Krishna “Food for Life” programme. The choice of targeting relatively well-to-do student demographic in a London university may seem somewhat illogical, but it is a perfect location for promoting their organisation’s altruistic message to the student body. Moreover, they also run similar midday meals at a range of homeless shelters, and serve as a source of free daily nutrition to some of the most destitute groups on the margins of society. After picking up a copy of the Big Issue on the way home. Dinner consisted of a hearty roasted and seasoned butternut squash, which only cost 89p.

Overall, in retrospect, living on £5 a day is certainly an experience that is worth trying for everyone. Not only do you get to practice and discover different ways to save money while eating healthily, it also provides a nice oasis from the sometimes overwhelming consumerist-oriented society we live in, which is all about spending more money.

As a full-time MSc student, the weeks preceding Orientation were spent getting my head around the fact that being a student fundamentally involved thinking like one. Having finished University some years ago, this I reckoned would be a daunting task. Call it the power of human adaptability or the reawakening of the dormant student in me, but before the end of MT week one comparing prices of binders in the SU shop and elsewhere, demanding student discounts and of course scouring for deals -free being the operative word- had become second nature. However, getting used to a different notion of time required more effort, as the concept of a weekend soon disappeared and the line between night and day got increasingly blurry.

Five exciting and exhausting months on, a definitive list of my LSE highs would have to begin with the people. Nowhere else have I found such a delightful mix, with every other person being an artist, poet, musician, writer, hacker, DJ or some such thing – a far cry from the world of sales directors and account managers I was used to. And just about everyone is a thinker and philosopher, as I have discovered time and again in one of my favourite LSE hangouts – The George. In a city where every second pub is the oldest, the longest, or has some impressive piece of history attached to it, the George is, let’s accept it, rather unremarkable. Yet, having spent several evenings there listening to conspiracy theorists of myriad political beliefs arguing it out over cheap lager, I can safely say that drinks with friends will never be the same again. Whoever said that only the open expanses of red brick universities far out in the country could foster creativity and expression?  I have seen in Houghton Street – all 100 metres of it – the most vibrant display of people’s varied preoccupations and affiliations. That one tiny street could provide a platform for so many different interests, sometimes conflicting ones, never ceases to amuse. Killing time has taken on a whole new meaning in the LSE environs. I could spend one half of the day sipping tea at the Garrick and the other half public lecture hopping. And yet, no one ever deems one less stimulating than the other.

In true social scientist fashion, I will now dwell on the other side of the LSE experience. One thing that I found to be dismally similar to work life was competition. Let me quickly clarify that I do not mean competition of the academic kind where people are ready to clobber one another for marks, as I have experienced in some other institutions. It is the competition for resources – of all kinds. And so, at the start of the term, if you want to get a place in the course of your choice, you need to get online before the rest. There are only so many places on some workshops and everybody wants to be on them. Log on to “LSE for You” thirty minutes too late and others have beaten you to it. Some of this, I suppose, is unavoidable. But I am still sore with the disappointment of having missed out on some great talks. A related woe is one of timetabling and keeping track of stuff. There is so much going on all the time that despite my best efforts at fitting it all in, even maintaining a diary for the first time ever in my life, I have missed out on a few deadlines and engagements.

But in the wider scheme of things, these are but minor irritants. After all, how often do you get to be in the same room as a Nobel Laureate, a head of state or a movie star or ride the elevator with an MP or an academic you have admired all your life? I never tire of telling envious friends still stuck in employment how much more fun a morning spent reading is than chasing clients for payments. And when the reading and essay-writing gets a little too much, I am quick to tell myself to enjoy what in all likelihood will be my last encounter with student life. Come September, it will be time to take the suit out of its bag and wipe the dust off the high heels. But until then, I am going to enjoy my year out from the real world.

But what I also soon realised was that university is a lot more than just getting the grades. Well, it just has to be when you are the type of person who just cannot make it to lectures before midday. I don’t necessarily mean you should join every society on offer and go to as many public lectures as you can. What I mean is that university should be about becoming the person, and the personality, that you want to be for the rest of your life.

In order to do this, you probably need to learn to look after yourself first. As someone with the common sense IQ of a pea, learning to look after myself has not been the smoothest of rides. Firstly, I am hopeless at cooking. Metal in the microwave. Guilty. Trying to make a stir-fry with 3 week old, funky smelling bean sprouts. Guilty. Giving up and resorting to a Maccie D’s for dinner. Guilty – with the free chips of course!

And don’t get me started on washing. That has just been one great big disaster. I finally realised at the beginning of Lent Term that I had been washing my clothes in fabric conditioner the whole time. When I did manage to buy Daz, and not Persil, I managed to turn all my whites turquoise with a new pair of green jeans. And then there is the cleaning. Who can be bothered to go down to reception to get the hoover?  Well, not me… until my room got so dusty that it started to aggravate my asthma.

Although it is fair to say that I have learned from my mistakes last term, budgeting is not exactly my strong point either. This morning, with the student budget blown at the Roxy last night, I found myself with empty pockets. With not even enough money for a pint of milk, and not quite cheeky enough to steal someone else’s, I resorted to putting water on my cereal. I think I will just go hungry next time.

But,  I am getting better. I have cracked the washing machine and become adept with the feather duster. And besides, I feel very at home in London, at halls and at the LSE, so all these little hiccups don’t seem to matter any more. I am a city girl. The big smoke doesn’t phase me and in fact my world seems quite small with lots of familiar faces. I even have a favourite bus driver. When someone shouts “Waheyy, look who it is! You fell asleep on here last week “ as you are tapping your oyster, you know it has got to be a small world after all.

What has made my year this year though has to be Carr-Saunders. It is all about the halls for me. It has got a great community spirit and although the dinners are pretty tasteless, we always have a great time together. I have made so many new friends and we have shared so many little, and big, adventures together. We have bonded over many a cheeky wee in various sinks and alleyways or squares of London when it just gets too much on the walk to the evenings club of choice. And, we must have consumed far too many portions of Wrights bar’s 95p chips and afternoon double vodka diet cokes in the Tuns than could possibly be good for you.  But I have also found time to do all sorts of other things too: from helping out at the LSE fashion show to setting up my own society, the Album Club, for music enthusiasts who want to share, listen and discuss music.

These are all the things that have made this year great.  Needless to say I have loved it! This year has been about new friends, new experiences and a bit of growing up too. It is fair to say that there hasn’t been a great deal of hard work this year. Only a handful of times have I found myself setting up camp for a day in the library, or downing cups of coffee before an all-nighter.

But in hindsight, I know now that we were all just little fishes at the start of this year. It just takes a while for everyone to get used to things. Now, with my feet firmly set on the ground, it is time to get down to some revision and take what I have learned with me next year.

replaced by afternoon sessions in the library, and morning sessions sleeping will yet again be replaced by morning sessions in the library. I have been at LSE for nearly three years now and it has been an amazing but interesting experience. What has made my experience so great is that each term I have met and got to know a whole new bunch of people. I would like to use this article to give some advice in how to make the most of the LSE

experience from the lessons and mistakes I have learnt.

The biggest mistake I made was not joining the AU, a mistake I rectified in my third year. For many the AU stands for lash, gash and spending daddy’s cash. To a certain extent this might be true but there is so much more than some very messy nights at the muddy, sweaty and filthy-and I am not just talking about the people- club that is Zoo Bar. The people you play sport with are amazing and you will build-up such friendships. You don’t need to go out on the nights to thoroughly enjoy the AU experience. Joining the AU added significantly to my enjoyment of my third and final year. Whilst you don’t need to go on the nights out to thoroughly enjoy the AU experience, joining the AU coincidentally led to my lack of motivation for anything on a Thursday morning/afternoon. But, in all seriousness it is one of the best £10 I have ever spent.

As well as the AU, get involved in other societies. While I am not particularly career minded I spent a stint as the Vice President of the LSE SU Investment Society. Getting a leadership role in any society is really great and I recommend it to anyone. Not only does it look good on the CV, but at least for me I met another load of new people and friends that under other circumstances I would not have met. Being able to really influence the direction of the society and striving to achieve goals that would benefit our members was something I found really enjoyable. I know many people that have had similar experiences in other societies and although it does involved quite a bit of work, I know that we are all glad we did it.

The library is not one of LSE’s strong-points. Much though I like the architectural work of Norman Foster, the LSE library is not his best. The stairs are annoying, the lifts slow, and now you have to swipe out to leave. It is probably for these time wasting reasons that people simply don’t leave the library. This is a shame as there is more to LSE than studying. You can get a 2:1, and in many cases a 1st and still have a blinder of a time. This is something I do believe I have managed well over the three years.

I don’t spend all my time working, but when I do I make it count. The secret for success at LSE is to keep up with the work throughout the year. There is nothing better than rocking out with the same grade as someone knowing that while you were having roof top barbecues and drinking chilled beer, they were busting out regressions and drinking coffee.

Wrights Bar. Everyone knows of it and most people love it, but few people know its best secret. The Wrights Bar mixed grill is the big daddy or crème de la crème of what their fryer can offer. For £3.50 you get a plate full of Wrights Bar goodness. It is by far the greatest and one of the cheapest meal that can be bought on campus, yet it is one of the least known about. My LSE experience would have been enhanced far more had I known about it earlier.

Get involved in stuff and try new things. I never skied before so I went on the LSE Ski trip. Yes it was expensive, but it was one of the best weeks of my life. The word mental doesn’t even describe it. I am going on the RAG hitchhike next week. I have not hitchhiked before and I am pretty sure the 8:00am start after the last Crush will not live down as one of my greatest mornings ever. However, it is trying new things that will make you experience at LSE great.

I hope these pieces of advice help improve those people who have more glorious years at this institution. After all, there is more to life than banking, metrics, or protesting. A few mates came around yesterday evening for a night of poker, pizza and French style beer. In many ways my hand in the final round of the game sums up my time at LSE. I had a 2 pair which is a good hand. However, my friend had 3 of a kind. I cannot complain about having a 2 pair, nor complain about my experience at LSE, but with some of the advice above I amsure you could get that three of a kind.

But this initial shock of London eventually wore off. After these past six months, London does not seem so scary anymore. By no means am I suggesting that  have conquered London, but the city has become comfortable. I have embraced London in all its crowded, chaotic glory– I no longer feel like a foreigner in London; instead, I feel at home. Moreover, LSE has become a home away from home as well. The classes I have taken have been intellectually stimulating and have challenged my previous ideas and conceptions. LSE is an intellectually curious place, where students are encouraged to think for themselves, to critique previous thoughts, and to be innovative. My classmates and coworkers’ ability and passion to discuss various issues constantly amazes me—I have no doubt many people in my classes will go on to change the world.

Besides just learning in the classroom, I have also had the opportunity to travel to various places throughout Europe. I have seen the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Gamla Stan in Stockholm, and during the break, the headquarters of the ICC in the Hague, and the glaciers of Iceland. I am so appreciative of having the opportunity to go to these fascinating and incredibly different places with great friends.

While the traveling part has been amazing, I think the greatest part of my time abroad has been the amazing people that I have met, both General Course students and LSE students alike. I have gotten the chance to meet people around the world, hear their perspectives and opinions, and thus understand the world just a little bit better. The people at LSE are so open and willing to listen, eager to hear my stories and happy to share their own. Everyone at LSE is so driven to succeed, to be the best that they can be, and create change in the world.

In sum, this year has been eye opening and humbling. If I had to summarize my entire year studying at LSE in the General Course, I would have to use the world incredible. This year has allowed me the opportunity to meet people from around the world, to travel and, of course, to study exciting and interesting subjects. This year has really shaped me and challenged me, both in and out of the classroom. LSE is a place where you can dive right in, even if you are just studying abroad here for the year. I do not feel like I am an outsider; instead, I really feel that LSE, and London, has become a place in which I can always return.

As a history student, and one of the few from Southeast Asia in the history department, adjusting to the competitive and extremely career-oriented environment of LSE was something that took some time getting used to. When a senior told me in August 2009 to not let the investment-banking-“I-MUST-MAKE-LOTS-OF-MONEY”- mentality get to me, it did not take me long to figure out what she meant: by the third week of Michaelmas Term, my LSE inbox was swarmed with LSE careers service emails, Milkround emails and information about internship fairs and the like. I could not really escape from the LSE grind of getting a summer job or internship. My Lent Terms in LSE were hence spent juggling readings, assignments, and writing many, many cover letters to publishing companies in London and in my home country of Singapore – practically begging them to take me on as an unpaid intern/volunteer for x number of days or weeks.

Jobs and worrying-about-the-future aside, I’ll remember my time at LSE as one where I spent hundreds, and yes it really was hundreds, of hours reading about the history of the twentieth century, the Ottoman Empire, the rise and rise of China and the other East Asian tigers, and learning more about histories of the Third World. I am also proud to have been part of the small but tight literature community in LSE. In case you didn’t know the Language Centre offers four literature courses – yes, there are people in LSE who read poetry and plays as part their degrees. Being part of such an international community also spurred me to try learning a language in my first and second year and I am now proud to say I have the German-speaking capability of a six year old.

But student life wise, I chose not to make great efforts to be seen or heard – I am not part of any societies, or any Students’ Union related things. The only thing I am involved in is the LSE Student Ambassador programme, which I joined on the spur of the moment in my second year. After giving many campus tours to local and international students, and helping out at higher education fairs, I am really glad the LSE is trying to be more inclusive, even if some of my state school friends might beg to differ. It has really taught me the value and power of encouraging others to aim for higher education.

Oh, and not mentioning the LSE Events would be a sin: I am glad I got to see history specialists, aka history super-stars, politicians, writers, thinkers and people who have made a name for doing what they love. I was kind of hoping to see Obama on campus, but I am sure he will still make it to the LSE Events list one day. All in all, whether or not I remain in London or return to Asia to begin life as a real person, LSE has really opened my eyes and made me really believe that the world is your oyster; it is up to you to go forth and make life what you want it to be.

Deciding that my friends’, rather sensible, ideas about settling down to focus on the last chance to improve grades was not for me, I set out to “make the most it.” Though what exactly this meant I was not sure: going to every available public lecture, getting involved in every club and society or merely enjoying the freedom to go out every night? The student experience at LSE can mean a variety of things, and in my three years I tried to do all the above, only to realise that there are a finite number of hours in a day and I did not own Bernard’s watch.

Some freshers do get very involved with things on campus, but I regret that I was not one of them. But, aside from the disadvantage of a lack of time, there are many advantages of being a third year. Without the distraction of halls life, there is the time to really focus on what you want to. After three years you know how things work on campus, what you want to get involved with; you know the academics and teachers better and what is expected of you academically. With the realisation that come July you will be out there in the real world, it has been hard not to appreciate time spent at the LSE.

Despite the best intentions – we are here to get a degree after all – there have been times for all of us when things have piled up. Not to mention there is the potential danger of beginning to hate the subject you loved when your first applied to university, three years ago, all wide-eyed and fresh-faced. Hours spent studying and going into detail you never thought necessary, does not always help.

But LSE is not just about the work, even in third year. It is possible to keep up some semblance of a social life, managing enough nights out to relax and not lose the plot completely. If only, in my case, to sacrifice nearly losing my belongings  and possibly my dignity on several occasions. During the day there is a vibrant network of societies running and indeed there is a life outside classes and lectures and careers events, if you want there to be.

However for much of this year, I have been forced, like many other third year undergraduates, to face up to the daunting question of what to do with that piece of paper and the line on our CVs that the three years working hard were actually for. These three years have been great and I have definitely got more experience and knowledge, but what will I use my newly acquired in-depth knowledge of history and politics for, aside from shouting at the television with more authority during Question Time? This time has also been debt-inducing and making great friends, memorable nights out and even “finding yourself” is not going to pay that off.

But finding a post-degree option that is fulfilling, challenging and might help pay off the debts is not easy. In fact these problems have led to many third years I know, going through what could be affectionately described as a “quarter-life crisis”, as they spend their time reassessing their entire lives over the big question of what to do next year. This has manifested itself in hours upon hours searching various options and discussing them to a trusty friend, willing to put up with the melodrama. Think this does not sound so bad – the time it takes away from doing anything else and the stress and pressure do not make it a particularly happy experience.

This realisation that actually there is no set path, hits many in third year. The “typical” LSE career path – spring week, summer internship, job in a bank earning lots of money – does not apply to many an LSE student. Even if you find a job that seems to fit the bill and an offer that looks amazing on paper, you have to consider if you really want to be committing yourself, to that line of work and to that company, cutting off other possibilities for the foreseeable future. This may just be similar to pre-wedding jitters for most; but for some, it will involve standing your company up at the altar and running away with your love(r): whether that is further study, another job or just some time out.

Looking back, these worries may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but they undeniably take up a large chunk of time of our university experience, and I cannot help consider them a stain on the last year. With everyone feeling the same way as well, it is almost like we spur each other on. A collective hysteria about careers that means we all easily forget the things we could be doing now as we worry over the things we may hypothetically do later.

But getting back to the present, it is Week Ten, which is considered, for me and my fellow third years our last normal week of learning at LSE. So, how to make the most of it? Well the answer is obvious: in true undergraduate style, Tiger on Monday, Zoo on Wednesday and Crush on Friday, right? It may have been three years, the work may have got harder and what we are all doing next year may be unclear, but some things have not changed.

Why not you may ask? This same credit rating agency gave maximum triple-A ratings to worthless pieces of paper that promised to pay you a fortune, if by some miracle of God, hundreds of thousands of unemployed broke Americans paid off their $400,000 mortgages. Well guess what? They didn’t.

But news aside my story this week sheds a whole different light on the notion of credit ratings as I divulge details of my work experience at a bank. Having secured a position in Trading and completed one week of initial training, today was my first day on the trading floor. Was I nervous? No. I was shitting it.

Should I believe all the stories about bankers? Were they really going to manipulate me into their bitch? Awesomely-made introductions to everyone aside, where was I going to sit? “We have not got a free desk but James will be on holiday next week so you can sit on his then”

“No worries I am good to stand” I eagerly replied.

“Haha, you’re not standing, you’ll just be sitting with me. You didn’t expect to stand twelve hours a day for the next  five days did you?”

“Oh no, I was joking,”

“Oh okay,”

I hadn’t been joking.

After that awkward start I eased into talking to everyone for the next few days and taking part in the banter began to feel like part of the team.

Shadowing a trader one morning, a tall blonde I had not seen before strutted down the aisle, hair bouncing off her shoulders. Just as I noticed myself I saw the eyes of many a trader swiftly follow suit as they eyed up what they thought of as the latest piece of meat in the den. Not wishing to appear more interested in the woman than bonds, I quickly regained concentration to see the trader I was sat with typing away on his Bloomberg group chat.

“Did you guys just see that AAA?”

“I’ve got her”

“Naa, she’s mine”

“Only an A+”

“Are you crazy? At least AA”

Noticing me watching his screens, the trader shut it quickly and turned to face me.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing,”

“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on these? Why is this bond of the same company & expiration worth less?”

“Well, it depends on their seniority,”

“Explain,”

“Bond A may be more attractive if for example it’s AAA than say only an A+,” I winked

Smirking at me he whispered “shush” before offering to buy me lunch. Twenty-first century networking at its best.

Having been given bits and bobs to work on I was now looking forward to starting my main project. An equity trader called me over.

“Hey, Newman, I’ve got something for you”

“Sure,” I was getting used to being called Newman.

“I’ve got a guy outside the McDonalds on the other side of the station, I need you to pay him.”

“Errr… Ok”

Handing me £300 he continued “He should be wearing a grey striped hoody and blue trousers. He’ll be standing next to the angel statue.”

Okay, this was just plain weird now.

“He’ll pass you an envelope. Bring it straight here.”

What on Earth was going on? Surely it would be reasonable to question him?

“Sure that’s fine, what is it for?”

“Ah nothing, just something for the missus.”

Ah yes, that explains it. A £300 dropoff to a man in a grey striped hoody for an envelope for the missus? What the hell had I got myself into? And what exactly did missus mean? Was that his wife? Or someone else?

Looking at my manager for some level of support that this wasn’t the first of potentially many drug pickups he nodded. Was that a go ahead? Or was he in on it too? Could this six foot black haired man be missus?

This was not quite the project I had in mind.

Anticipating the movements and actions of everyone around whilst simultaneously analysing their clothing, I felt like I was starring in a Bourne movie. Approaching the drop-off location, using shutter holes to check out the area before my arrival I scouted out my target. If only my friends could see me now; they thought I was some high flying trader-in-waiting perhaps helping price important deals. I was not. I had been manipulated into that position of bitch I had tried to avoid. So there I was, a modern-day warrior enrobed in a full suit, crouched like a ninja peering through gaps in a fence, with £300 in my pocket playing “spot the grey hoody”. I recalled once asking a recruiter what to expect as an intern? Attend our networking events they said; speak to our employees they said. Well none of them ever said this in the job description.

Aha, there he is! A young man wearing a backpack in blue trackies strolled up to the statue, slits through his brows, hoody up. Approaching him from the front, I nodded and flicked my eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“£300 yeah?”

“Yes boss,” he replied looking into the horizon.

Not sure whether to show him the money first or wait for the package I paused a moment. He looked at me weirdly and reached into his jacket pocket where a bulky item was resting. Was that a package or a gun? Now I would like to sound dramatic by saying my whole life flashed before my eyes. But it didn’t. I coolly pulled out the cash wad as he removed a package and we casually exchanged simultaneously.

“Cheers mate,”

“Thanks.”

I could have been in Goodfellas.

Paranoid I was being tailed by an undercover copper, I doubled back twice before taking the subway to the office. James Bond had taught me well. With little conviction I hoped for the best, perhaps things were different here? Because where I come from delivering an unmarked package you just paid £300 to a hooded man for is called possession with intent to supply.

Passing the envelope to the trader, his colleagued asked

“What’s that Rob?”

“Just a couple of tickets for the Take That Concert tonight. It’s the missus birthday.”

After over 26 hours of travel, we finally arrived at Virginia Falls – the biggest ranger post in the entire 30,000 km2 large park. After a day spent collecting and preparing our gear, as well as climbing Sunblood Mountain which overlooks the famous falls (Virginia Falls is twice as tall as Niagara Falls and was one of the first four UNESCO World Heritage Sites), we set off down the river to start our two week trip.

As we fought with the rapids of the Nahanni River, I wondered how the fur traders of yesteryear managed to travel this route in both the cruel heat of summer and in the frigid, sub-arctic winter. Quickly we began shooting down the glacial river at a quick ten kilometre per hour pace and found ourselves in the aptly named Painted Canyon. This particular geological wonder features exquisite walls of various rock-types cutting through the rugged landscape of the park.

It is no wonder the Nahanni is widely considered Canada’s, and one of the world’s, most beautiful rivers. With rock formations, mountains, and an array of life (both animal and floral) that would rival that of any National Park in North America, I was constantly excited by what lay around the next bend of the river – and upon entering Third Canyon, my excitement peaked. One of the most striking features of the park is a mountain known as Devil’s Pulpit. Not only does the Pulpit rise hundreds of feet above the river, but the view from atop its summit is one I will remember for the rest of my life.

As we exited our canoes I was weary of climbing the sheer rock face scattered with loose boulders just waiting to tumble onto us hapless adventurers. But as we waded into the stream at the foot of the Pulpit, I gained my nerve and decided that, on the urging of our guide Lara, the view from the top was worth the risk. It took only 45 minutes to scale the peak, with storm clouds moving in, however, our stay at the top would have to be short. Despite the brevity of our stay, the view is one that I can only crudely describe as “mind-blowing.”

The view from all angles showed the beauty of this land, of this river, and of this country. Only from on-high could I truly appreciate the marvels of geography that this trip had exposed me to. The beautiful formations forged by the workings of Karst topography (Geography students take note), characterise the landscape. Unfortunately, the storm was moving closer with each passing minute, and we all knew traversing the rocks and boulders of the Pulpit in the rain would be a dangerous proposition. Unhappily we scrambled down the rock face and began making camp for the coming downpour.

Luckily, in the north, when rain hits it does not stay for long and after an evening of heavy rain, we woke up to a beautiful day of 30°C temperatures and bright sunshine. The climate of the sub-arctic is an interesting one. In the summer, temperatures routinely beat out the UK with 30°C highs not being an unusual occurrence. But in the winter, the lowest recorded temperature in the area is a bone chilling -51°C, but factoring in wind-chill, that number lowers to -64°C.

It being August, and I much preferring warm weather over cold, there could only be one part of the day that could bring down my spirits. After dumping out of my canoe twice on the previous stretch of the river, I was alarmed to hear that the hardest set of rapids on the river, George’s Riffle, was going to be run today. Nigel, my uncle and canoe partner, was slightly more confident in our abilities to remain afloat than I, but I resolved to do my best in George’s – and follow the canoeing mantra: “if all else fails, keep paddling!”

As we approached the Riffle (I maintain riffle is an inappropriate name as George’s has swells at least four feet tall), we got out of our canoes to scout the situation ahead. Treacherous, but do-able, was the general consensus among everyone but myself. Despite my trepidations, we returned to our canoes and set-off into George’s. As Nigel and I dropped into the massive holes of the Riffle, we did our best to keep on paddling. In fact, as we exited the hardest portion of the rapids we kept on paddling past our eddy-out point, forcing us to backtrack against the current.

But as we passed George’s we knew we had conquered the river. Admittedly, this is not exactly a difficult feat and we were not exactly graceful in our canoeing, but none of this mattered to us. The trip down the Nahanni was a life changing experience – one that allowed me to get closer to nature, my country, and myself.