STROLLING around the tree-lined courtyards of Harvard university with my chum was an inspiring experience.
So much so, in fact, that we decided to apply to study there.
There were loads of folk strolling around at no great pace, and they all seemed to be going nowhere, at a sedate amble that suggested that I would fit right in.
We booked an appointment with the bursar and we were stunned to learn that we had passed the entrance exam by virtue of having an honours degree from UK universities.
This meant we were accepted to study for a PhD, as sadly they didn’t offer masters degrees.
But we never did study in the hallowed halls of Harvard – after the bursar informed us the course would cost $25,000 a year for six years.
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I never did make the phone call home to my parents, but I’m sure that if I had, the pride at their boy being accepted into Harvard would have quickly evaporated at the mere mention of the cost.
The response would almost certainly have ended in off.
Even pride has a price – and it’s considerably less than the $150,000 it would have been to allow me to saunter around Massachusetts in a duffle coat with books under my arm for six........