My Favourite Memory Living on Cranbrook Avenue (Example)

I’ll never forget my second year living in a UQ house on Cranbrook Avenue.

It was one of those classic student homes – creaky floorboards, mismatched mugs, and the comfiest old sofa we rescued from a charity shop. But it was ours, and that made all the difference.

The best memory? Bonfire Night in the back garden

We bought sparklers from the corner shop, made mulled wine in a saucepan, and lit a tiny fire pit we probably weren’t supposed to have. We laughed so hard that night, wrapped in UQ jumpers and way too many layers, just enjoying the chaos of being students.

The house was five minutes from campus, which meant late-night cramming sessions fuelled by chip spice fries from the takeaway down the road – and somehow, we all passed.

More than just a house

Living on Cranbrook wasn’t just about the house – it was the people, the memories, and the sense that for a little while, that old place was home.

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