Journey of a Lifetime (Or: The Beautiful Short Friendship I Had with a Complete Stranger)

I don't hide my love of video games, but once in awhile, I'll find that I catch someone I know off-guard when the subject comes up. ("You're a gamer?! I had no idea!") I've been playing video games since I was little, and though I don't go out of my way to rub that information in anyone's face, I do regularly wear graphic tees showcasing my favorite games. (If you see me walking around in a shirt with an interesting logo you don't recognize, it's not a new underground indie band or some hip new designer label. It's a video game reference, and it's a goal of mine to strike up a conversation with someone astute enough to recognize it for what it is. Most of the time, though, it goes completely unnoticed... and frankly, that's ok too. Who honestly enjoys small talk, anyway?)

To the uninitiated, video games are a waste of time, at best - and straight-up bad for you (and the world as a whole), at worst. I'm here to tell you: it's not true. I've witnessed some of the most amazing art and experienced some of the most poignant moments while playing video games. One such moment came to mind yesterday (while I was brainstorming what on earth I could write about for the next 29 days... haha. 😓).

A lot of gamers stick to a handful of genres or franchises. When I look for a game, I don't really limit myself in that way (although it does help to know that if you enjoyed the last 3 Uncharted games, you'll likely enjoy the 4th one too). Instead, I look for something with spectacle. Does it have a great story? Is it going to shift my perspective? Are the visuals stunning? How's the soundtrack? Is it a unique concept I haven't experienced before? In short: will it blow me away?

One of the games I kept hearing about over and over again was called Journey. It actually came out back in 2012, but I didn't get around to playing it until 2017. (That is how far behind I can get with my backlog of games. 😬)

It's best to go into any game knowing as little as possible. I'd avoided major spoilers, but I knew it was gorgeous, had a beautiful soundtrack, was "artsy" and "short," and had a unique multiplayer twist: you could run into one other player at a time on your "journey" and experience the game together with them, but you would have no idea who they were until the end.

Now, I'm not much for online multiplayer games - I've dabbled a few times in the past (mostly with Destiny), but you won't catch me getting a victory royale in Fortnite in the foreseeable future. Call me old school, but I mostly play single player games, or local couch co-op. Journey had something different to offer, though, and I liked that if I stumbled upon anyone at all (given the game was 5 years old, that was already a pretty big if), I had no way of communicating with them. I couldn't chat with them over headset or message them, and I wouldn't necessarily have to pay them much attention if I didn't want to. The game is short, so we'd be partners for a little while at best, and that would be it. How interesting.

So, I booted up the game.

You start all alone in Journey, as one small, cloaked figure wearing a scarf, trudging through sand dunes toward a mountain. There is no backstory. You don't know how you got there, or where exactly you're going, or why. You can't speak - only "sing" in a sort of unintelligible chirp with the press of a button. There is no narrator. The controls are basic, and what little you need to know is explained visually and melodically as you go. So, you do the only thing it makes sense to do: press forward toward the mountain.

As my character walked, I remember how quiet and lonely it was... but in a beautiful, majestic sort of way, like when you hike alone in nature. The art style of this game was breathtaking. After a short while of walking through the sand, I saw a figure in the distance. Well, it looked like I wasn't going to have a solo Journey after all.

I ran up to the other being. Had he been waiting? He chirped excitedly, little glyphs bouncing above his head, and he jumped and danced in circles. I chirped back - a two-syllable "hello" (but of course there were no words). We continued on together, with him leading the way. Did he know where he was going?

Every so often, he would chirp once or several times, and I would return the conversation. Sometimes he stopped and looked back, waiting. I have no idea what we were talking about, but I tried to interpret the gibberish into the words I imagined were being said:

"Are you still there, friend?" "Yes, I'm here."

"This way, friend!" "Ok!"

"Marco!" "Polo!"

There was no map, and no way to track my companion. At times, he would run off ahead. If we got separated, I found myself starting to worry. I would chirp out a greeting... but hear nothing back. Had I lost him? Did he abandon our game? Was he waiting ahead? Should I wait for him, or proceed? Where did my friend go?

Thankfully, no matter what happened, we always eventually found each other again. Sometimes he was ahead, and sometimes I waited for him. It felt like he knew what he was doing. There was an exasperation in the chirping and jumping at times, when he was trying to indicate what I needed to do. But he was patient, and guided me along.

By the time we reached the end, we had been through a lot together - a "journey," if you will 😏 - and though it was bittersweet, I found the whole experience impactful in so many ways. The visuals and music were just as striking as I had heard, and who knew I'd find a friend along the way? More than that - who knew we'd find a way to communicate with only "singing" and jumping at our disposal?

I know I've played a good game when I'm speechless by the time the credits roll, and that's how I felt at the end of Journey. When it's all over, the game shows you the gamer tag of the person (or people) you played with over the course of your travels. There was just one name listed for me - my friend had stuck by my side til the very end. Even when we had lost each other, he never left.

He sent me a friend request afterward, saying something like, "Wow, I've never played the whole way through with just one person before." Based on his profile, he was clearly from a Spanish-speaking country - so we may not have even been on the same continent together. We never spoke or interacted again, but I cherished my time going on an unknown journey with this complete stranger I'll never meet in real life.

The next day, I started the game up again. This time, I waited in the sand dunes for a cloaked figure walking alone. Now I would be the guide and help someone through their Journey.