A big hello to those of you picking up Felix for the very first time. And a very good day to you! You are at the beginning of one of the most exciting, terrifying… and certainly unique periods of your life. University. London. People. It gives me a buzz just thinking about it. To prepare you for what lies in store, I will relate a brief Freshers’ Guide to Imperial. First piece of advice: if you ever need a computer in the library, learn how to say, “Stop playing World of Warcraft and get out!” in five different languages.

But you will have received advice in abundance by now and I’m sure you’ve grown tired of this rehashed sagacity and don’t need it repeated once again. So, I decided to write a different guide, one that scratches the surface to reveal the gooey inner workings of Imperial. The wisdom contained has, taken years of study (and avoidance thereof) to attain.

Other guides will teach you about the dreaded Freshers’ Flu and how it can be avoided. While this is a very real danger, the threat tends to pass within a fortnight. What they fail to mention are leopards, a year-long hazard. Leopards are the only natural predator to pedestrians in London. They arrived in the city, as most exotic creatures do, as part of a private collection but they escaped into the wild, where their numbers have been growing steadily ever since. Leopards hunt mainly at night so seek shelter at the Union during this time. While staying in a group provides some safety, be aware that leopards are not afraid to attack prey in herds, so make sure you have some slow friends.

My guide-writing colleagues would then move on to talk about the imposing edifice on the Queen’s Lawn, the Central Library, and so shall I. I’ll say it plainly; it is hot in there, uncomfortably hot. I’ve seen students in shorts and sandals in the middle of winter (though, this might be more a reflection on the student body.)But the real danger in the library furnace is madness. The stress that comes with exams and coursework, combined with the heat, has driven many a poor student insane. If you experience any nausea, vertigo, delusions of grandeur, wall-melting, time-travel, hearing colours or conversations with the furniture, get out immediately and seek medical help.

You will also be told that you will go to bed at four after a night of stupid and fun things and that you will get up at six to more stupid and fun things. Wait, no, reverse that. Time, as you will discover, is a most fluid construct at Imperial, as rigid and unyielding as a piece of over-cooked spaghetti – another facet of life with which you will become intimately acquainted. The day/night cycle will still exist but will be purely academic to you. You will wake up in a strange place at a strange time (quite possibly with strange people) and wonder how you got there – you will only recall the entire night’s proceedings as a few fleeting seconds. At other times, especially during lectures on a Friday afternoon, mere minutes will drag on with the ancient weight of untold centuries. With a helpful copy of Felix, you might skim that down to a scant few decades.

This is by no means the end of my insights; this is just a taster to start you off. Remember that all the advice you read has been gained and harvested the hard way, through living it. That itself is a guarantee of its worth. But hey, you can ignore all this if you want – just so long as you remember this; The best way to survive in London, and to learn what’s what in Imperial is to get out there and live it for yourself… avoiding leopards where possible.