Today I had my first low point since becoming a free man.

It was nothing to do with quitting, nothing to do with writing full time, nor the obligatory beans on toast budget that that would entail. No, my hamartia was, inevitably, something much more tellurian. But I don’t want to talk about that. Not anymore. We all have things we can’t have in life, and things we can. It’s about accepting, dealing, and then doing. Don’t dwell on the past and its neverbeens.

So, it was surely inevitable that the one thing I quite accidentally happened upon that lightened my mood was very much from my past. Watching this video really was oddly more like watching a tour of a much loved TV show set long after the series has ended, than scenes from a place I once used to live, happily ever after. St Andrews only has three main streets, yet even each and every corner boasts one hundred brilliant memories.

As the film went on, I saw The North Point and immediately thought of fourth year when Craig got a job there as a waiter and we would bitch play with each other in front of his customers. The car then passed Curry’s where Andy used to work, looking ridiculous in his bright red trousers and yellow polo shirt; the flat above Clydesdale where Tom lived and I would turn up uninvited for coffee on my way back from lectures; the bin beside Global Video that I accidentally put my glove in; the long walk down to Gatty; the docks where I once met a charming red head…

You could even see the pub, just in the distance, where the above hamartia first came into being, five years ago and as nothing more than a seemingly innocent and unremarkable encounter. Like the car in the video, or maybe just like the St Andrews traffic system itself, it’s inevitable that you always end up coming back to where you started.

It’s weird to think that places really do go on existing long after you’ve left them.

Weird, and unexpectedly comforting.