When I attended the Johns Hopkins University in the, ahem, last century, it was shall we say a study in austerity. Being known as one of the few top-name schools that did not inflate its grades fostered a cutthroat academic atmosphere undiluted by the remotest of amenities offered to its students. During my time there, we were voted one of the bottom three schools in America for a fun and comfortable student life—beating only two military academies—and the neighborhood that surrounded the campus reflected these conditions exactly. Parking was a nightmare, crime was rampant, and one needed to travel for many miles to find that most civilized of modern wonders: a coffee bar.

I mention this because I recently visited campus for one of the first times since I graduated and found myself wondering if I had accidentally wandered into a theme park. Gleaming new buildings arranged around gorgeously landscaped new quads, crisscrossed by charming brick pathways. Cafes at every turn (including in the library!). Outdoor seating with umbrellas. Renovations everywhere. The surrounding neighborhood received a similar facelift, with new residential developments, better local businesses, and much improved parking. I kept expecting Mickey Mouse to pop around for a photo op.

The funny thing is, my time at Hopkins was one of the best periods of my life. It is true that there was nothing to do in the area, and the stress on my mind and body approached the level of Jupiter’s atmospheric forces, but it was the last time I could spend my time learning for the sake of knowledge and had a group of friends who could drop everything for a late-night excursion. Hell, it was probably the last time I had enough energy for a late-night excursion of any sort.

Yesterday, I bonded with a coworker over the simple pleasures we found as children. I did have my Star Wars action figures, but if I could persuade my mother to give me a piece of string to play with, I was equally happy making it into a grappling hook or using it for a microphone cord. If I had had too many bells and whistles, I think I may have grown up to be a different kind of person, and perhaps the same sort of thing could be said for my college experience. The young Hopkins academics of today have all the comforts of a luxury resort, but they will never forge their character on a five-mile commute for coffee that was not squirted out of a vending machine.