Young Life

Following two decidedly lacklustre performances at the 02 Academy a year earlier, I was hoping that a trip to see Indie band The Vaccines would prescribe to my lofty expectations and be the elusive “third time lucky”. Almost, but not quite.

It’s difficult to feel too excited queuing in near sub zero temperatures on a rainy winter’s evening, but on the eve of my 18th birthday, I hoped the quartet would provide a memorable evening to the sell-out crowd in Newcastle. The band was returning to the city a year on from the undeniable success of their self-titled debut album, a concert I unfortunately missed out on due to the high demand.

After arriving early at the venue, my friend and I were able to get close to the stage, ready to endure what we thought would be a further two hour wait until the appearance of the much anticipated Vaccines. The supporting artists were sadly unexceptional, but in retrospect, atypical of supporting bands of their genre. The rather ambiguously named “Deap Vally” turned out to be two girls from New York, both proceeding to scream unintelligibly down the microphone for a good twenty minutes whilst watched by a bemused, predominantly teenage audience. However, hopes that the end of this band’s routine would cue the entrance of The Vaccines were vain hopes indeed: Deap Vally were followed by an equally uninspiring quartet, whose name I have unfortunately (and unsurprisingly) forgotten. Their set, although enthusiastic, overran considerably, leaving irate fans with a further half hour wait until quarter to ten and the true beginning of the concert.

Finally, The Vaccines made their late and irritatingly unapologetic arrival on stage, opening proceedings with the single from their “Come of Age” album, “No Hope”. Despite the rather melancholy title, “No Hope” is a peppy, rather uplifting track which was just the trick to engage the by now lethargic audience. Perhaps it was rather too engaging: by the end of the concert I can quite readily admit that I had been punched, kicked and pushed with reckless abandon for a good hour and a half. It certainly seemed to be “dress-down Tuesday” for the band; dishevelled denim and lank, centre parted hair seemed to be the style of the day, leading to a sarcastic remark ( “well at least they dressed up for the occasion” ) from me.

Despite my criticisms of the band, and certainly ignoring the over-enthusiastic adolescent spectators at the concert, The Vaccines truly do excel at performing live. All tracks, even the more obscure end of album songs indisputably went down a treat, with the crowd bouncing and belting out every word to each chorus. Unlike most other concerts I go to, I was pleased when this one in particular drew to its boisterous conclusion; if only for the fact that I was nearly too bruised and battered to function after a gruelling six hours of standing for The Vaccines. So, at the finish, a decidedly mixed experience, yet an experience nonetheless.

by Carole Saville © 2013

Carole Saville is an 18 year old student living in Cullercoats. She is currently studying A level English Literature, French and Psychology at Whitley Bay High School with a view to becoming a writer. Her interests include art, music, reading and writing.

Carole can be contacted by email at cas28@hotmail.co.uk.

During the two months that succeeded my AS level exams, it was fairly easy to shut out the nauseous thought of results day and simply enjoy the seemingly endless expanse of the summer holidays. However, all too soon people are rather irritatingly reminding you that it’s “only two weeks to go” – until that dreaded day when all of a sudden you’re standing with a piece of paper in your hand and feeling like you’d rather be anywhere else; preferably a different country.

However, I’ll readily acknowledge that results day for fully fledged A level students must be around ten times worse; one bad result could mean an entire change in career path and a lost university place, which is obviously devastating for the student in question. On the other hand, the feeling of sheer relief and achievement after receiving perfect results must be absolutely fantastic.

For me, true to form, I was still incredibly anxious and not really able to communicate properly with any of my peers. Over the summer, we all agreed that how we performed in May now seemed absolutely catastrophic, compared to how we felt walking out of the exam hall oh-so long ago.  The night before I received my AS grades, I felt as though I’d opened my results ten times in my sleep and each time the grades became increasingly worse.

I was almost relieved then, when I arrived back at school to collect my results; two and half months of painful anticipation were very nearly over. And I was pleasantly surprised, I’m pleased to say! The subject of paramount importance, English Literature, could not have been better and I discovered (to my delight) I was able to continue with that, French and Psychology next year after securing A’s in all three. Even after a good three hours worth of hysterically laughing, shouting and crying I can quite safely say that I’m still shocked and not quite certain how I managed that.

It’s hard to believe that now I have to start thinking about “the next big step,” and by that I mean universities. At the moment, it’s relatively effortless to block out the thought of the daunting financial side of further education and look at the whole situation through rose-tinted glasses.  Already I feel completely set on an English Literature degree, with any luck at Newcastle University. It’s not only the location of the university, but the general atmosphere and what the course has to offer me personally that has me so enthralled.

Despite this, I’m fully aware just how difficult it’s going to be over the coming year to meet the entry requirements (another three A’s) and have accomplished “a well rounded appreciation of literature” that the University so desires its prospective students to have acquired.  But for now, I’m quite content to just live for the moment and celebrate!

by Carole Saville © 2012

Carole Saville is a 17 year old student living in Cullercoats. She is currently studying A level English Literature, French and Psychology at Whitley Bay High School with a view to becoming a writer. Her interests include art, music, reading and writing.

Carole can be contacted by email at cas28@hotmail.co.uk.

Only a few months ago (the 30th of November last year to be precise) I was sitting in a car for the very first time, totally and utterly perplexed by the sheer number of buttons, pedals and responsibilities that come with driving a car.

In the following months, learning to drive became a highly amusing (and often terrifying) escape from work and exams. Once a week, I would face my phobia of roundabouts, dual-carriageways and driving at over 40 miles per hour. There were so many things that I didn’t understand! When you stop, do you press the clutch or the brake first? Why do I need to indicate as I leave a roundabout? In February of this year, I sat my theory, and passed by a nail-biting single mark. Now I was ready for my practical exam.

On April 12th, I set off (absolutely panic-stricken) for what would be my first practical driving exam. The hour of preparation with my driving instructor beforehand seemed promising – everything was going well, what could possibly go wrong? Things are very, very different in the car with the examiner. The knowledge that your every move is being observed and marked is highly unsettling, and the tell-tale scratch of his pen, marking you down, completely obliterates any reserves of confidence. Despite this, with five minutes of the test remaining and with the end in sight, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d passed. It’s probably because of this sudden burst of assurance that I turned right in front of oncoming traffic and made at least two cars slam on their brakes. Needless to say I failed that test.

I was lucky enough to have a car (a small Volkswagen Fox) waiting for me when I finally did pass, so every night was spent practising before the all important second exam. By the time of the test, I barely felt nervous; I knew what to expect and how could I possibly make another “dangerous fault” like the first? Following 40 minutes of torrential rain, a dreaded bay-park and ten “minor” errors, shockingly, I’d passed.

So now what? Was I really being allowed in a car on my own? Could I really go anywhere I wanted? Thrilled by the prospect, during my first month of driving, I took the car everywhere. Driving to school every morning was fine, not a problem. I should say that driving in a car with four other hysterical passengers, music blasting and with non-stop conversation is a little disorientating. Because of this, I’ve had a few close encounters with other drivers and pedestrians. I also find parking quite difficult. Rather embarrassingly, if a parking bay does not have at least two empty spaces on either side, I quite simply cannot park there.

A month on, and I feel slightly more confident. I don’t cringe at the sight of roundabouts anymore, and the car is almost straight when I pull up against the kerb; it’s probably best to take everything one step at a time.

by Carole Saville © 2012

Carole Saville is a 17 year old student living in Cullercoats. She is currently studying AS level English Literature, French, Biology and Psychology at Whitley Bay High School with a view to becoming a writer. Her interests include art, music, reading and writing.

Carole can be contacted by email at cas28@hotmail.co.uk.