What’s it like to experience Nijmegen as a real student? Former Radboud student Maaike Hollestelle sets out to find out, with none other than ChatGPT as her digital guide. But just how well does a chatbot really know student life? She quickly discovers: not everything that glitters is student gold.

Nijmegen, the city where I studied for five years, is of course no stranger to me. Although I now live in Brussels, I can still find the student associations, bars, and cozy cafés without issue. Still, I’m curious what, according to AI, is truly “Nijmegen” and truly student-like. Can ChatGPT still surprise me?

Prompt: “Hi ChatGPT, I want to experience a student-like day in Nijmegen, what do you recommend?”

The question I ask ChatGPT quickly proves too general. Some results are relevant to Nijmegen – like the suggestion to take a walk through Kronenburgerpark – but they’re not particularly student-y. Conversely, it recommends going to the university library to study. Sure, a typical student activity, but not exactly fit for a day out.

With a few more follow-up questions, a better schedule begins to form: a workout at the Radboud Sports Centre, dinner at a student house, then joining a student-y drinks event, followed by a night out at a popular student bar.

Prompt: “Sounds good, Chat. What sports can I do?”

Admittedly, ChatGPT excels at coming up with unconventional sports. While the obvious options would be lifting weights or booking a squash court, the chatbot is more creative – so much so, it starts to bend reality.

For example, it suggests sword fighting at MARS (Martial Arts for Renaissance Scholars), a supposedly student-focused club for historical combat where I’ll witness a “brutal visual spectacle.” A quick Google search reveals MARS isn’t a student association and only operates in Zwolle and Groningen. Another suggestion, the student archery club HKS Nimrod, turns out not to exist at all.

One activity ChatGPT suggests that does exist is climbing. The sports centre has an outdoor climbing wall, though of course, you can’t just go up it without proper training and safety measures. Fun idea – but reality is a bit more complicated.

Luckily, I’m able to tag along with a (technically full) bouldering course taught by sports instructor Floris. A great alternative! Upon arrival, I rummage through a bin of climbing shoes – trying not to think about how many feet have worn them before me. Floris cheerfully welcomes me, and once the class starts, I jump right in. I’m doing pretty well, if I say so myself. We practice holds and wrap up with a tough core workout. I’m definitely in for sore muscles tomorrow.

Prompt: “It’s nearly dinner time – where and what should I eat?”

ChatGPT lists several well-known (budget-friendly) restaurants in town. The options are fine, but one suggestion stands out more: “Having dinner at a student house is the most student-like option.” According to ChatGPT, student houses are the place for wild stories, grimy kitchens, and unexpected twists.

With high hopes and a six-pack of beer – I take the advice not to arrive empty-handed to heart – I bike into Nijmegen-Oost. The weather is nice, so I hope to find students lounging outside. And sure enough, near Traianusplein, some guys from dispuut Avis are sitting in the grass enjoying the sun. Can I join them for dinner? “Just head down to the basement, they’re cooking now,” one of them says. The stairs lead to a somewhat dirty, sticky kitchen, where a large pot is simmering on the stove.

‘Yeah sure, grab a plate’

In the nearby communal room, a few guys are watching The Wolf of Wall Street and drinking beer. Some are happy to chat. Before long, unappetizing stories of hazing rituals come up. I’m not entirely comfortable – most of the guys are nice, but not everyone is thrilled by my presence. Staying for dinner isn’t an option, but I do get handed a beer. I’m not allowed to leave until I finish it, so I quickly take a few sips. Time to move on.

After an unsuccessful tour through Oost, I head for Bottendaal. On Burghardt van den Berghstraat, two girls are sitting in the sun in their front yard. Looks like they just started dinner. Can I join? “Yeah sure, I hope we have enough,” one of them says enthusiastically.

On the table is a homemade pizza with assorted vegetables and cheese, prepared by students Lynn (19) and Hanna (22). They met during their cultural anthropology studies. Are they heading to a bar later tonight? “No, we’re more of a tea-house,” Lynn laughs. “But we do fun things together. Tonight we’re going to a Brazilian dance class.”

Time to do the dishes – a small price for the hospitality. Upstairs, in the kitchen with walls covered in photos of Bollo the Bear and Tobias Camman, other housemates look on in surprise as I scrub their dirty dishes too.

Prompt: “The dishes are done. Is it time for drinks yet?”

Once again, ChatGPT suggests tagging along with a student group. The first suggestion is rather ridiculous: “Walk into a student association or dispuut and pretend you’ve been a member for years.” As if anyone at Ovum Novum or Carolus Magnus – let alone a smaller dispuut – wouldn’t immediately know who belongs there.

Luck is on my side: during RAGweek (a charity week organized by students), groups from Mycelium, the study association for communication sciences, are scattered throughout the city center playing drinking games. Right next to the Stevenskerk, I’m invited to join a game of flunkyball, where you throw a ball to knock over a bottle and earn the right to drink.

A lukewarm Schultenbräu is handed to me. In the background, the latest student anthem Lotje is playing. Together with Demi and Jinte, Mycelium’s board members, I wait for a team to arrive. When they do, we’re off: girls versus guys. We’re clearly better at throwing, so we win. The guys want a rematch, but I’m ready to head to the bar.

Prompt: “Where should I go?”

Here – not for the first time today – ChatGPT stumbles. While it does list some good spots (De Fuik, TKB, Bascafé), it also recommends bars that no longer exist. That El Sombrero is now called Club Nova is something ChatGPT isn’t aware of – still forgivable. But student café Groots hasn’t been a bar for ages. And the supposedly popular Feestcafé? Never existed.

‘What are you doing in Nijmegen?’

So I go to De Fuik. It’s been years since I was last here – De Fuik is mainly popular among younger students. It’s also way too early (11:00 p.m.); barely twenty people are inside at a themed party. After one drink and some silly pictures, I’m ready for more action.

I find it at Tappers, where a party is going on for tennis association Slow – coincidentally, my old club. “What are you doing in Nijmegen?” someone shouts. Also there: members of dispuut Elegast. They’re clearly not afraid of a few beers (and several shots). My glass is barely empty before another beer is in front of me.

I decide to ignore ChatGPT’s advice for a bit. The men from Elegast convince me to head to café De Bieb with them. It doesn’t get more student-like than this – the bar is literally run by a dispuut. Inside are guys in button-downs and girls in skirts and cardigans.

Prompt: “With a few beers down, I feel bold. ChatGPT, say I want to flirt – do you have a good pickup line?”

“Hey bartender, I’ll have one drink and a slim chance you talk to me after you’re done shining behind that bar,” is her suggestion. Feeling confident, I head to the bar. The bartender says he’ll be working late and walks away. I realize I’ve just been rejected and ask ChatGPT for a better alternative.

Attempt two: “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice your glass is emptier than my schedule this month. Can I buy you a drink?” I turn to a guy at the bar. After my move, he nods to the tray of beers his friend just ordered and asks if I want to grab one of his. Whether this guy is the love of my life? Probably not. But hey – I scored a beer.

Prompt: “The night’s almost over and I’m starving. Where do students get their late-night snack these days?”

ChatGPT claims FEBO is on Plein ’44. As an alternative, it suggests De Fest in Brakkenstein – definitely student-like, but 2.5 kilometers away and closed by 11:00 p.m. After some more questions, it finally gives the right tip: head to snackbar Corona – a place where something’s always going on, late into the night.

Drunk students sit devouring greasy food. I order something myself and settle onto a red bench under unflattering fluorescent lights. Satisfied, I hop back on my OV-bike and pedal toward my old student house. I didn’t let ChatGPT arrange a place to sleep – who knows where I would’ve ended up. Because let’s be honest: while ChatGPT gave me some memorable encounters and stories, she also got a lot wrong. Recommending nonexistent bars and associations, or ideas that just don’t make sense. For anyone planning a student-y day in Nijmegen with ChatGPT: double-check your itinerary, or you might just find yourself standing in front of a locked door.