#13 - Lost

We'd been walking in the mid-day sun for almost an hour. Six of us, including three kids, all near the point of giving up. Except there's no giving up in a maze - we’d just be stuck there. Sure, given that this particular puzzle has an elevated centre that doubles as a viewing point, we could shout for help and get instructions shouted back at us, but that's defeatist talk. We would walk unaided until we found victory, no matter the cost.

It seemed like a perfectly good idea. We’ll do the maze then head home. We’d done it multiple times over the years, so our level of fear was low. Plus, this time there were six of us, so more brains to figure out where we should be going to reach the centre. Maybe it was the heat, maybe the fact we’d just eaten large ice creams, maybe the decision we made to actually listen to advice from 12-year-olds, but we became very, very lost.

The mood started to change the moment I saw the discarded Haribo bag for the third time. We were going around and around and making no progress. I panicked, and held my phone high into the air to get a view of the paths around us, before realising that I couldn’t see the screen or press the photo button. I Googled for a solution to the maze, but the map I found was impossible to use from our position inside without any idea where we were. A bumpy bit of path my niece almost tripped on earlier? There it is again. A child’s shoe? I saw that at least twice already.

My mind started to consider long-term plans. What if we really are stuck here? Do we have any food and water? I had water for the kids, half a drunk coffee, and some bird food. How would we get out? Airlifted via a helicopter that would have to hover overhead. I hate helicopters! Maybe I could force a path through the high hedges and out to freedom?

I looked to the centre of the maze where those who made it stood high, victorious and somewhat smugly peering out at the fools scuttling around beneath them. These were the people who we’d passed earlier, during a simpler time when we still believed in fun and a future for our children. We could probably build our own community, living off scraps left behind by maze visitors. We might even gain a following.

While the idea of being “the bearded man of the maze” had an appeal, things suddenly started to look up. We found a clue (an arrow pointing in the correct direction) and our spirits were lifted. We sensed an end to our torment, a way out, hope of a better life. And then, there it was, dirtied, crumpled, ripped: the Haribo packet. I metaphorically fell to my knees in anguish and screamed in pain - metaphorically hitting my knee on a real rock.

“It’s that damn Haribo packet again,” I actually said out loud, now rather perturbed.

Other people in the maze gave me a funny, semi-disgusted look, as if I’d just told their child they aren't as precious as they’ve always been told. I hadn’t, but anything felt possible at that moment. Sensing our rapidly deteriorating bodies, birds of prey circled overhead (they were from the nearby falconry display, but why let that ruin a good story?), ready to feast.

We were all out of ideas. But maybe fate wasn’t.

Two days previous I’d been in Lidl with my kids, an 8am visit to get us out of the house for a walk during half-term while the temperature was still tolerable. I’d been ganged up on and convinced to buy a floor-standing fan, which I then had to carry a mile home - the box bigger than my five-year-old. About five minutes into the walk home I managed to scrape my wrist on a corner of the enormous box, blood slowly dripping onto the pavement as the three of us staggered up a hill.

“Daddy. Is that poos or logs?” my daughter asked.

I was thrown by a question I never believed I’d be asked, not helped by my depleting blood supply.

“Poos,” I replied, having seen what she was asking about and identified them as bits of poo.

We made it home, I was a hero, my kids sat all day in the only places on the sofa the fan hit, and my wound started to heal in a strange pattern. I looked forward to our upcoming trip to visit the maze.

Back inside the maze I held my arm up and looked in astonishment as the scabs seemed to be pointing us down the middle of three paths. At the next path choice they pointed us down the first path, then finally down the middle. We’d been guided home, and were safe. I daren’t say anything about the mysterious power of my heroically injured wrist for fear I’d be mocked.

As we walked through an underground cave system at the centre of the maze, taking some much needed respite from the cruel mid-day sun, I wondered how many other times my life had been influenced by the power of my local budget supermarket. I’ll probably never know.

Sony shared its slate of upcoming games this week in its June State of Play. While Wolverine from Insomniac looks like it’s going to be a fun (and violent) time, and I'm a card-carrying God of War fan so am keen to see more of Lufey, the real standout for me was the new Stuntman game. I have a soft spot for the Xbox 360/PS3 game, and think the idea of being a stunt driver for movies has great potential. The less said about the uncanny valley faces in the Until Dawn 2 trailer, the better.

This newsletter isn’t entirely about video games - in fact, this one was mostly about finding your way out of a situation you never thought you’d be able to get out of. I’ll have a think about some other bits and pieces and round them up in the quick reviews below. I’m a critic, too, you see.

Things I can review:

• Spontaneous (Prime): I went into this thinking it was a teen comedy horror, perhaps a little like Freaky (the body swap horror) in tone. I couldn’t have been more wrong, which I blame the marketing for. While, yes, there is some dark comedy here, this story of randomly exploding teenagers was surprisingly moving. It’s open to be interpreted as you wish, and there are obvious parallels to the dangers facing children today (particularly in America), but what struck me most is the parental angle to the story. Being so helpless as your kids go out into the world while trying to make the most of every day. 4 opportunities to seize the day out of 5 unforeseen disasters.
• Squeaky Bean Chargrilled Steak Style Strips (Supermarkets): I’m not vegetarian, but I do very much limit how much meat I eat. We don’t buy meat to eat at home, and I tend to only occasionally eat chicken when out or if we get a takeaway. I didn’t know I even missed beef, but I bought some Squeaky Bean steak strips for some sandwiches, and it blew my mind. A bit of mustard, bit of mayo, and damn, it’s amazing. It’s a little expensive for the amount you get, but if you are trying to cut back on meat I highly recommend this (the pastrami and chicken are also great). 5 saved cows out of 5 delicious sandwiches.
• Sonic the Hedgehog (Mega Drive and loads of other platforms): I was writing about Sonic’s 35th anniversary this week and it tempted me to give the original a quick spin. What struck me most of all, above and beyond the fact that this is a tight platformer that’s still brilliant to play today, is how much of it I remembered. It helps that it’s been re-released over and over again, but I don’t think I’ve played it fully since the days the Mega Drive was the console of choice in the UK. As a kid I must have played it for way more hours than I remember. 5 crushes to death in Marble Zone out of 5 spinning signs.