Everything changed when maps went online. No more faff with sheets of printed instructions is one of the true blessings of our times. My favourite app was the one that allowed you to whack a postcode into a spinning globe, and let photos of that specific point zoom into view. We used to type in a spot, wave our hands in the air, and pretend to fall into the Earth.
I loved discovering all the weird little corners of our planet. The back streets of Tokyo filled a whole evening, their doors and windows lit red and gold for a local festival. This was also a great way to dig up locations from the past. I explored my old University halls. My first flat. After some trawling of suburbia I found the house of my best friend from primary school. They now had a gravel drive instead of a front garden.
One night, just for fun, I checked on Mythland. This was a theme park built around knights and castles, which I visited about once a month in my childhood. The best place in the world to watch jousting, meet a wizard, and get an ice cream in the same afternoon.
The reason for my check was because the place is long gone. Even though I was in my late teens during the shutdown, I still cried. The remains of the grounds still existed. Turrets hidden in ivy. A coconut shy lost to hedgerows. A popcorn stand with an oak tree growing through the roof.
My exploration was meant to be a cathartic last goodbye. But when I typed in the postcode, the ruins of Mythland did not appear in photo form. Instead children ran in primary coloured clothing. The ice creams they ate were large, and their grins wide. Horses flexed their muscles under their rider’s gleaming armour. The wizard stood resplendent between them all.
I assumed I had accessed some kind of nostalgia feature. But these photos claimed to be two months old. I swore. How had they reopened without my knowledge?
The next morning I headed to Mythland. Despite a twenty years gap between trips, the path was still accessible through childhood muscle memory. The potholed road was losing the battle to weeds. When I reached the old car park, a row of metal fencing stopped me getting closer. My heart squeezed, but I still had phone signal. I checked the app again. The same photos insisted fun lay on the other side of the fence.
Clambering over the chainlink gashed my ankle. But I rolled over, and utter joy won the world. The knights were ready for battle, the modern crowd gathered in excitement.
But everyone was completely still. All except a white bearded figure, marching towards me in purple robes that dragged along the floor. I tried to clamber back over the fence, but I too was a figure in stasis.
Sunlight blinded me on what had previously been a cloudy day.
Line: My exploration was meant to be a cathartic last goodbye.
