Back Into the Game

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When the Yakuza Remastered Collection was announced, I let out a cry of joy. No longer would I have to find ways to track down the previous titles on the PlayStation 3 just so I could link up Kiryu Kazuma’s legacy across seven games. Now I had access to them all and could enjoy the franchise at my leisure. Everything was well with the world. And while I wanted to buy it as soon as Yakuza 3 Remastered came out, it was until Yakuza 4 that I purchased it on the PlayStation store. After a year that had me running from one brick and mortar store to another in the hope of obtaining a physical copy, I had learned my lesson. This time, I went digital. In saying that, most of the Yakuza games I’ve owned have been digital (barring Yakuza Kiwami 2) due to the fact that I only purchased Yakuza Zero after hearing good things about it from one Hollie Bennett of PlayStation Access fame.

After a roller coaster whirl that was Yakuza Kiwami 2, I was left a little bereft at the narrative of Yakuza 3. Though I knew thatKaoru would be written off, I was still disappointed at how quickly they sent her character packing off to the United States of America. Following from the events of Yakuza Kiwami 2, Kiryu retreats from the yakuza lifestyle and opens an orphanage in Okinawa called Morning Glory. Yet it is not long before he gets dragged right back in: first with the Ryudo Family when they threaten to take away his orphanage, and then again when the land deed is stolen by a man that looks a lot like his old mentor: Kazama Shintaro. 

As such, the narrative in Yakuza 3 feels a lot weaker than the previous entries I’ve played, relying more heavily on nostalgia as well as a healthy dose of smoke and mirrors to carry the story. I was still able to get invested with a few of the new characters: such as the children at Morning Glory and Rikiya. In fact, Yakuza 3 actually kept most of the earlier chapters focused on looking after the gaggle of kids that Kiryu looked after. I liked the baseball game and the wrestling match, though they detracted a little from the serious nature of the primary plot about Black Monday and politicians vying to have their distinct bills passed through parliament. In saying that, though, Kiryu’s role in the whole debacle is as an outside agent of chaos. His only proper connection with the affair was that his orphanage was being threatened and that the patriarch of the Ryudo family and the Sixth Chairman of the Tojo Clan (Daigo) had been shot.

The ending also became a little predictable and considering the people introduced, it was easier to deduce who Andre Richardson of Black Monday was. Why they still wanted to have the military base bill go through when they knew it was trap to draw them out was a little confusing. I suppose, though, they proved to be an effective foreign menace.

I also liked how the different lieutenants juxtaposed each other, though the little there is said about Kanda, the better. Mine also proved much more complex and I would have preferred if he hadn’t been so self-sacrificing. I would have found it much more satisfying to see him atone for his actions rather than take the easy route out.

Yakuza 3 also saw the return of several of the more goofier substories. Many of them involved the new chase mechanic that had Kiryu tackling down dine and dashers, finding lost children and ensuring that the Kyushu No. 1 Star Ramen could live on in instant form. It also saw the resolution of the Akimoto-kun and Mizuki-chan saga. These two have seen their ups and downs, but it was a relief to see it end as they started their relationship over again. 

After playing through Yakuza Kiwami 2, the first entry in the Remastered Collection was a clear step backwards mechanics wise. The graphics and the sound effects also saw a significant downgrade. Considering that these were not remakes but rather remasters, it is understandable and didn’t detract much from the game after I adjusted my sensibilities. 

Instead of Cabaret Club, it was back to dating hostesses. Karaoke was less fluid, experience points were not divided into separate categories, only one piece of food could be bought and heat was gradually lost over time.

Yakuza 3 feels and plays like a game from a bygone age. Despite the blemishes, I very much enjoyed my time with it. What I am disappointed about, though, is that Kiryu has been stabbed so much in the stomach, it’s a miracle that no-one has actually ruptured his intestines. Yes, he has abs of steel but it seems nigh impossible that he has managed to live for so long. How has he not suffered a severe infection?

Still, if he died so soon then there wouldn’t have been Yakuza 4, 5, 6. And that would be a shame.

A Second Look at Taipei

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Considering the lateness of our flight, it made perfect sense to spend the hours exploring the rest of Taipei before our inevitable return to reality. Without the need to follow a rigid schedule, my mother and I were free to wake up as late as we pleased and take our merry time when it came to packing.

It was almost nine thirty when we asked the hotel staff at Green World to look after our luggage before we plunged into the streets of Taipei. After an approximate ten minute trek, stopping once at a 7-Eleven to pick up a small carton of milk, we found Xintian Temple. The crowds were large and with coronavirus still such a threat, my mother decided to avoid the congregation. Instead we headed down into the bowels of the metro system to visit the first place on my mother’s ‘must-see’ list.

Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall was an impressive monument – form the blue roof to the snow-white walls. But it was than just a pretty side attraction. Inside the Memorial Hall were several exhibition halls dedicated to Taiwan’s history. My mother, though, was more excited about the Tutankhamun display. After checking the prices, I gently persuaded my mother that the exhibit was not the worth the price of admission. Besides, despite the sad state of affairs that are the museums in Australia, we have had our own fair share of Egyptian exhibits and I had enjoyed several while scouring the national history museums of North America.

Up at the very top of Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall was a very grand statue dedicated to the first President of Taiwan. Seeing it, I was instantly reminded of Abraham Lincoln seated in his pride of place on the National Mall in Washington D.C. 

After we had seen the National Theatre and National Concert Halls, it was back down into the metro. As the quarantine had been lifted, my mother decided that this was the perfect opportunity to visit Taipei 101. Unfortunately, the weather turuned as we dined at the Din Tai Fung stationed just under one of the tallest skyscrapers in the world. Once we reached the top, it was likely trying to stare through a sea of white. Squashing down my sense of vertigo, I was able to stare at the immediate surroundings by stepping up close to the windows.

Exploring the observatory floor of Taipei 101, it was clear from a glance that the fear of COVID-19 and the terrible weather meant that business was all but non-existent. Pity saw me purchase a solitary scoop of chocolate ice cream as my mother and I recuperated from our walk around Taipei. 

Then it was back down and into the mall underneath. Just like the Sydney Eye, many of the stores were high-end: Louis Vutton, Cartier, Bloomberry…

It was as if we had never left Australia.

Hearing that there was a bookstore close by, I persuaded my mum to accompany me to a nearby department store. Umbrella in hand, we braved the light drizzle – passing by City Hall and Discovery Point until we arrived at Eslite. I took a quick gander among the shelves, surprised by the selection available. In fact, I even tried to convince my mother to purchase a few select translated texts from my favourite crime authors. Alas, she refused. Instead advising that she would read the English version that adorned my personal shelves.

Having satisfied my curiosity of Eslite, we headed back to the hotel and reclaimed our luggage. A taxi and metro ride later, we arrived at Taoyuan airport. Ready for the long flight back home to Australia.

Edibles Galore

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An early start to the day meant that our erstwhile Canadian friends missed out on a hearty banquet of food. Unable to delay much further, we boarded our coach as we headed to our second must-buy product on our trip. Yes, you read that right. We were bequeathed a coach! For a party of four. But I’ll get to the reason why later. 

Whereas my mother had been convinced to purchase some pearl dust earlier on in the week, she was less inclined to purchase Lingzhi. This was a fungus that was also known as red reishi. As we sat and listened to the sales pitch on why we should purchase it, I scanned through the pamphlet the workers had also provided. Apparently red reishi helps support healthy blood circulation  as well as metabolic activity of human cells. The humans of years past also sought it as a means for eternal life.

Despite their best efforts, my mother remained unmoved and we left with our purses sealed shut. The Canadian duo, on the other hand, had been convinced to purchase a little of this miraculous item. To be used on an experimental scale.

Back onto the coach we went until we arrived at Xincheng Taroko Station. Due to the dangerous mountain paths, our tour guide had purchased train tickets for the rest of our journey up the east coast of Taiwan.

After forty five minutes, watching both the mountains and sea race by, we reunited with our van driver. He had taken the long route. Whereas we had enjoyed a leisurely forty five minute train ride, he had endured a gruelling four hours on the road. The reason why we had not joined him was that in years past, tour groups had slipped off the road and fell to their peril. In order to ensure the safety of tourists, it was better to risk only the driver in such circumstances.

Luggage secured, we hopped back in to the van, none the worse for wear and endured an hour long drive to Taipei – the city where our tour had first started. To our delight, the National Palace Museum was open. Prior to this, Taiwan had closed many popular tourist sights due to the fact that several members of the Diamond Princess Cruise had visited them. Yes, that one.

From the third floor, we wandered through the exhibition floors. It started off with a few expertly cut jade pieces that helped demonstrate the illusion of movement before we moved on to several bronze antiques. What I found fascinating was how China also enjoyed the Bronze Age during a similar period as their European counterparts.  I also liked how rather than stone, the Chinese employed many jade weapons before using the stone for more religious and cultural purposes. Even now, jade remains an important cornerstone for the Chinese. I would know, I have a jade bracelet on my arm to assist with my health and protect me from evil. 

Once the upper halls of the Museum had been scoured clean, we headed out for lunch after my mother grew hungry looking at the Meat-shaped stone. Then it was back inside to take a gander at ancient scroll work and calligraphy before we had to leave.

From the museum, we checked in to our hotel: Green World. While not as impressive or as peculiar as the other hotels we had stayed in previously, it served adequately enough as a place to rest and recharge.

At four in the afternoon, we returned to the lobby. Our tour guide had one last area to show us before abandoning us in the middle of Taipei city. In direct contrast to the other night markets we had visited before, Shilin Night Market was a sea of people. Beyond just the stalls selling clothes, knickknacks and food there was also a plethora of carnival games. With our mother footing the bill, my Canadian friend and I took up a set of BB pistols and started shooting balloons down in earnest. After a rocky start, I showed off my excellent marksman skills and decimated the competition. Of course, had it not been for first-person shooters training me to be a remorseless killer, I would never have been so good. 

Several hours afterwards, our stomachs filled to the brim with all manner of street food and cake, we flagged down a taxi . A few minutes later we were back at our hotel, ready for the return journey on Saturday, the 22nd of February.

We Built This City on Rocks and Cats

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After a night of interrupted sleep thanks to multiple mosquitoes harassing both my mother and I, I woke to find my face sporting two itchy lumps. Almost immediately, I began searching up symptoms of dengue fever. Though infection rates are considered low, many of the more immediate symptoms were similar to COVID-19. With paranoia rife, I feared that I might be detained if people thought I had the novel coronavirus instead of the actual reason why I might be sick. 

(Edit: I am still as hale and hearty as ever as of time of writing up this blog. No symptoms of anything yet. So no dengue fever, no COVID-19 and certainly no Japanese encephalitis.)

Breakfast was brought to us at seven in the morning, by one of the hotel staff members. Just like dinner the night before, it was a collection of food items that were probably bought from the local Family Mart or 7-Eleven. Having got out of bed fairly early, I was eager for food and munched on my burger in relish.

After we had filled up, my mother and I ensured that our bags were packed and it was back into the van as we headed north to Hualien.

First, though, we stopped by Xiaoyeliu. Overcast, it was not the best day to visit the beach. Unlike the beaches of Sydney with its golden sand, Xiaoyeliu was very much a rocky beach. Our tour guide pointed out that many of these rocks were actually brought up from the ocean bed when Taiwan was formed. Some of it was old coral. As we clambered over the rocks, looking for the best picture, we took in these facts – staring in wonderment that so many plants could grow in such terrain. To our Canadian counterparts, I made a few snide observations and comparisons to how Australia would have kept the beach safely locked behind a fence and warning signs. Mostly because the government fears that many humans have little to no common sense and in the pursuit of the perfect photo would stand at the very edge of rock pools. And they have proven correct again and again when there are new reports of individuals being swept away into the sea.

That, however, did not deter them from climbing up as far as they could on the mountain of rocks and replicate classic Disney movie moments from The Little Mermaid and The Lion King. 

After we had our fill, we briefly visited a place called ‘Water Flowing Upstream.’ Just like its namesake, the water truly did flow upstream. Our tour guide demonstrated this by tossing a leaf into the water. We watched in amazement as it defied the very laws of gravity and made its way up the hill. Following after it, we stumbled upon a plaque that provided no answers as to the phenomena.

Back on the road again, we stopped briefly for lunch and were visited by a host of feral cats. One tabby sounded most aggrieved that they needed to beg food from humans and constantly glared at me as we ate. Of course, my Canadian companion and I took plenty of photos and the occasional video. From there, it was a quick trek to Baxian Cave. Though tourists were previously able to explore inside, a landslide had seen the entrance boarded up. Despite that, we could still hear the waves of the ocean as we stood just outside it. 

Then it was to the Tropic of Cancer Marker. As we explored the goods on sale, I spied one very inappropriate item on display. At first, I was aghast – wondering why a tourist shop would be selling such a thing. But the plaque on the side provided some additional information on what the object was inspired from. This was the ‘Male Stone’ and in the picture that was provided, it looked very much like male genitalia. Even if I had wanted to buy it, I wouldn’t have known what to do with it. Scratch that, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. Give it to someone else in a game of Dirty Santa.

Back on the van, we negotiated a set of tortuous mountain rounds in order to reach our next stop on the journey to Hualien: Eternal Spring Shine. Nestled in a narrow valley, the shrine was built as a memorial for the lives that were lost in the construction of the tunnel through the massive mountain ranges in Central Taiwan that would have connected the Eastern shore to the West.

Learning these little tidbits of information was particularly enlightening because most of the other places we visited did not always include a breakdown or explanation of their historical importance in English. And though I can understand Mandarin Chinese, the facts do not always stick very clearly in my mind.

Another hour had us arrive at the hotel that we would be staying in for the night: Just Sleep. I’m not sure who comes up with the names for Taiwan’s hotels but they really need to take a lesson in giving good names. Complaint aside, the hotel was quite impressive in its style and comfort. I can’t say as to why the toilet had it sown glass door but perhaps that’s exactly what the architect wanted it to look like.

Just Sleep also had a small library filled with all sorts of manga and a tiny art gallery just above it. In fact, it had many small quirks that proved quite endearing.

Once again, though, our dinner was meant to be purchased and enjoyed on our lonesome. Since our numbers were so low, we could not find a restaurant that would cater for our needs. It was not long before we found both a Family Mart and 7-Eleven (heightening its similarity to Japan) and I enjoyed some lovely pasta. 

The topography and scenery of today’s drive up the east coast of Taiwan also put into mind the majestic mountains that dominated Hawaii’s big island. Especially with how prolific the palm trees were.

If there is one thing I can say about Taiwan in the short time that I was there, it is that it felt very much like a melting pot of cultures. Somehow or another, it works. And it is this very history that makes it so compelling to this humble blogger.

Feed the Deer!

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Often in China, they offer cheap tours to entice potential customers. In order to make money, these tours often encourage guests to purchase products from select shops. As such, even though our numbers were slow, we still made a singular stop at a Taiwan pearl powder retailer in Kaohsiung: Haibao. Seated in a small room, we were regaled with the properties of pearl dust and were even encouraged to try a little. To me, the power could have been anything from flour to cocaine. For a very brief moment, I was tempted to snort it up my nose. Instead, I tentatively licked the tiny portion that the retailer had given me to taste.

After numerous entreaties and copious amounts of extras being thrown into the mix, my mother purchased a hefty sum of peal dust as well as a pill made from soft-shell turtles called terrapin.These were said to assist with arthritis along with a myriad of other miracles.

Having bought our fair share of goods, we piled back into the van for a long drive to our next destination: feeding time with Paradise of Deer. Entering the enclosure, my new Canadian friend and I sidled up close to several cute and adorable specimens. Most seemed ambivalent of the human presence, though many others shied away when we reached out to stroke them. Once armed with carrots and a few green leaves, however, the deer flocked to us, eager for any morsel of food.

Unlike my previous disastrous attempt to feed the deer in Nara, Japan, the deer in Taiwan were much more docile. I saw no schoolgirls fleeing in terror while desperately throwing deer cakes behind them. 

I can’t say for how humane the deer were kept, though. The enclosure was quite small and several of the more wild ones were kept safely behind a metal fence. Mostly to prevent us humans from being bitten.

On our way over, our tour guide also gave us some information on the native Formosan Sika deer. In particular, Jason advised us that China actually traded pandas for a pair of them. Whereas pandas are often loaned to the zoos of other countries, Taiwan enjoyed a fair exchange when it came to these delightful beasts.

Once the novelty wore off, we were back on the road. We stopped briefly at the ruins of an old wall that had been built by Japan. One that had proper crenellations. It was impressive. And we were able to scale up to the top and walk along it. There was even an old tank seated in a nearby park. Of course, I took several photos. 

Two hours later we arrived at our hotel – one which contained a stone bath to allow guests a taste of what it is like to soak in a hot spring. As such, the bathing suits my mother brought were a little useless as we could enjoy a hot spring in the privacy of our rooms rather than venturing out into a public bath.

For this blogger, though, I was wrapped up in the news of a recent string of rejections from a job application. Without a laptop, I was still able to use the free Wi-Fi at the places we stayed at to check my emails on my phone. I know I’ve never been good at writing such things and selling myself, but I’m starting to feel a little desperate for a stable position that can keep me fed and support my hobbies.

Of course, if there are any travel magazines or companies that desire someone to write up anything travel-related, hit me up! Or those related to video games…

Gazing into the Sun Moon

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From our humble abode at the Hotel Formosa in Nantou, our party of four hopped into a small van. The coach that had served as a our primary means of transportation the day before seemed much too large, according to the tour company, considering the number of people. Our first destination for the day was Sun Moon Lake. After a brief tour of a nearby temple, we headed down to the water to enjoy a nice ferry ride over the water.

Alas, when we arrived, we learned the wait would be a further twenty minutes. As the day gradually warmed, I removed my jacket and facial mask – glad to get a breath of fresh air. And as we only had the Canadian mother-daughter duo (with the addition of the tour guide and driver) as companions, I endeavoured to learn more of their personal circumstances.

With plenty of time, I shot the breeze with the daughter, finding that conversation easily flowed between us despite the fact that we grew up in different countries. She had a lot of stories to tell and I was eager to listen. As the minutes rolled by, I learned quite a bit of her interests and hobbies – like that she worked a full-time job but also had several part-time roles in private tutoring. She was also part of an archery club and an ensemble that exclusively played Chinese music instruments. Though not as introverted as yours truly, her interests also lay in that area: from drawing to metalwork. Even more impressive was the fact that she had thirteen body piercings and also had a tattoo adorning her arm.

I also learned that she had only recently picked up a Switch and was trying her hand at playing video games, slowly picking up the skills and understanding the mechanics that were already ingrained into my very being. If I had to draw a comparison between us, it seemed very much like she was Chloe and I was Max from Life is Strange. 

In spite of the fact that she was new to games, she was often commissioned by her friends to draw specific characters and ships. I even managed to see a few including Lysithea as both a Star Mage and Thief.

After working for so long and working with individuals that were not as predisposed to nerdier pop culture aspects, it was somewhat refreshing to make a new acquaintance with someone that shared many of my interests. Particularly in such a small group where there was every chance that the people that had chosen to come might have been incredibly different.

After we had lunch in a small restaurant near Sun Moon Lake, my mother and I took a quick look at the local shops. I played around with a few wooden swords and my mother purchased a few delectable treats. Then it was back into the van for the long drive to Kaohsiung. Throughout the entirety of the ride, the Canadian girl and I walked about anything and everything that came to mind. With no other guests to bond with, conversation came easy: whether that was comparing the cultures of our two countries or talking about our vested interests.

On our drive down south to Kaohsiung, we stopped briefly for a quick toilet break. Once we had arrived in the city, our tour guide was kind enough to let us take in the sight of the Love River. We strolled along the promenade, taking in the names of actors that had graced Hong Kong and Taiwanese screens. The reason I know this? Because my mother was able to recognise a few of the names. It was like walking along Hollywood Boulevard and not knowing who Tom Cruise was. And I am ashamed to admit that this poor blogger is only able to name only a few big Hollywood names and the occasional voice actor/ actress.

From the banks of the river, we finally made our way to the hotel we would be staying in for the night: FX Hotel. The room itself was quaint but I simply could not wrap my head around the design of the bathroom. The shower and the toilet were two cubicles that sat side by side and shared a singular sliding door. It made no sense from a design perspective, though I must say it was an interesting arrangement and one I would not be liable to forget any time soon.

Recuperating a little from the long drive, our tour guide took us to Liuhe Night Market where there was food aplenty. Yet it was clear that the travel ban on Mainland China and the fear of COVID-19 had taken a toll on the profits. Though there were still quite a bit of people taking in the sights, it was hardly what one would call bustling. Tables were mostly empty and hawkers were desperate in drumming up even a little extra business.

Once we had our fill, our group of four slowly meandered our way back to the hotel where I immediately set about recounting the events of the day in my hardcopy journal that I had brought. In her infinite wisdom, my mother thought it silly to have me bring a heavy laptop on our trip. Of course, all of this will be transcribed again as part of my blog, with the occasional edit. That, unfortunately, is the price one must pay to keep it low-tech in an increasingly digital world. At least I can rejoice in the fact that I can spell, without assistance, most words and have a decent grasp of grammar. 

Maybe.

Formosa, the Beautiful Island

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Taiwan, or the Republic of China, is only recognised by a few countries as its own sovereign state. To most, it is seen as a rebellious territory of the People’s Republic of China. No wonder then that when I told my work colleagues, some were of the opinion that I was venturing into the very epicentre of the COVID-19 outbreak. At the time of travel, Taiwan’s reported numbers were quite low. During the week I stayed, it reached to the mid-twenties. A far-cry to some of the more major outbreaks in countries such as South Korea.

Unlike Australia, though, the entire populace seemed incredibly paranoid about contracting the virus. The streets of Taipei had masks everywhere. People were encouraged to practice good hygiene. When entering hotels, thermometers were aimed at foreheads to ensure those staying were not sporting fevers. For this blogger, it felt both excessive and oppressive.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. It was the 15th of February and our flight to Taiwan was slated to be one of the last few flying out for the day. My mother and I had spent much of the Saturday completing chores and packing the remaining items we needed for our trip.

It was seven when my cousin appeared at the door to take us to the international terminal of Sydney Airport. Checking in proved to be a simple affair, although I discovered that China Air was one of the only queues where a vast majority of individuals were sporting facial masks. I wanted to tell them to remove them as were departing Australia. At the time, there had only been about 15 reported cases across the nation and several had already recovered. According to the Department of Health, there was no need for the public to be donning anything. When my mother joked about it, I grumbled about the whole situation until we had passed through security.

As we waited for our flight, my mother decided thought to take advantage of her status as a holder of an American Express card. Despite the fact that the lounge was in the opposite direction of our gate, we made our way to the exclusive lounge. To my utter dismay, I was mistaken for the housekeeper by one of the other guests. I would not be lying to say that I felt a little outraged that such a mistake was made. Yes, I’m of Asian descent but that doesn’t mean I’m automatically the help. But who knows. Maybe the man would have asked the same question if I was of Caucasian appearance. Who knows. At the time, I was filled with indignant outrage at the thought that I had been racially profiled. Instead of challenging the man, however, I merely answered with a simple ‘no’ as I made my way to the restroom. 

On the plane, there was a sea of masks. Bowing to the pressure, my mother and I slid on our masks. I didn’t think it was very likely that we would be contracting COVID-19 but even the flight attendants were sporting protective facial masks.

A long eight to nine hours had us finally land in Taoyuan Airport at four in the morning. Mask still in place, we disembarked and made our way through Taiwan quarantine and customs. Just like Australia, Taiwan also had several restrictions on individuals carrying passports from the People’s Republic of China. We were also made to complete and sign a declaration in relation to COVID-19 that threatened a hefty fine if it was discovered that we had lied.

Luggage in hand, it was a long wait for our ride to the Orchard Hotel that we would be staying in for the night. Unable to check in, however, due to the fact that it was not even noon, my mother thought it best to take advantage of the day and squeeze in a little sight-seeing despite the inclement weather.

With the aid of our driver, we arrived in Taipei City at eleven. With our trusty map in hand, we wandered the streets – taking in the sights and sounds of the west side of the city. From Ximending, we stopped first at the Red House as well as a small temple that we could enter via the street. After stopping for lunch, with my mum purchasing a set of beauty masks for the area around the eyes, we visited the back entrance of the Presidential Office.

All in all, it was a fairly quick tour of the immediate area where we had been dropped off. As it was also a Sunday, not many stores were open. And still exhausted by our early start, I was able to quite easily persuade my mother that it was best to head back to our hotel. After all, it was three in the afternoon. Surely, we could check in now?

An express Taipei Main Station had us return to the airport. It was followed by a short taxi ride. Within the hour, we were safely ensconced in our rooms and finally able to rest.

The 17th of February started early as well. With a proper breakfast in our stomachs, our tour began in earnest in Jiufen. It was with mild surprise that I greeted the massive coach that had been prepared. Considering the threat of COVID-19, what had once been a group of roughly thirty had swindled down to seven. Unfortunately, three Canadians had not been able to make their flight. Beyond my mother and I, only another mother-daughter duo joined us. Yes. That’s right. We had a tour group of FOUR. That’s right. You read it correctly. Four. F-O-U-R. 

How they were expected to make any profit was a mystery to me. But I’m glad that they decided to continue, even with such small numbers.

A few hasty introductions later, our tour guide going by the name of Jason, provided us an overview of Taiwan and its rich history. Jiufen, the place that he was taking us, was one such place that exemplified its complicated history as a territory that had once belonged to Japan before it was ceded back to China after the Second World War. Located quite close to Taipei, Jiufen is situated atop a winding mountain path that makes it very difficult to navigate with a huge coach. Taiwan, in general, uses scooters more than cars for transportation and it was clear from the narrow alleyways that it is almost a necessity. Just before we reached the car park that was next to the cemetery, our tour guide also provided us with some additional history about the place: from how it got its name to why so many Japanese tourists visited it. 

After an extensive shopping trip in Jiufen that had my mother and I nearly frozen in place, our little group headed to the Grand Hotel of Taipei. Embodying Eastern aesthetics, it was a grant palatial building that I had first seen in an episode of Fresh off the Boat. My mother and I spent our allotted time inspecting all that we could of the first two floors. Though there were cafes and stores aplenty, we kept our wallets firmly closed until we finally returned to our bus.

Our next stop was a garden in Shilin. After taking a gander at the myriad tulips on display, my mother and I retreated to a local cafe for something to warm us up. Though not as frothy as the hot chocolates in Australia, I very much enjoyed regaining feeling in my extremities as the beverage heated up my cold freezing body.

Back on the bus, we headed to the next city on our itinerary. Several hours on the road, where I slipped into a micro-sleep and learned a little more of the Canadian duo, we arrived at Nantou where we checked in to our hotel and enjoyed a fairly simple dinner before retiring for the night.

This first glimpse of Taiwan was an enlightening one and filled with a hefty number of surprises. The facial masks were a bit of a nuisance, but to the people living on the island, prevention is probably much better than the lack of a cure. Risking one’s health, along with others is a pretty steep price for purely selfish desires.

Isolationism

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The streets are deserted

Once bustling, they are now absent of life.

Shadows flit past locked doorways,

Hungry as they search for sustenance.

Ration tickets are the golden key to being outside

Mask and gloves mandatory for service

The city is dead.

Its people slowly dying…dying…dying…

–

On the other side of the road

Bleeding hearts are kept under lock and key

A man, his vitality ebbing away watches as the fearful watch him

–

For others, the plague hangs like a heavy pall

Dogging their footsteps.

A cough here, a sneeze there

Instantly eyes follow them, accompanied by low murmurs

–

At home, disinfectant is rife

Moral panic keeps Wai Po trapped in her room

Like an invalid – a prisoner to the greater good.

Everything is kept separate. Segregated.

Isolation, they say, even as they flinch at the sight of yellow

The word on everyone’s lips, though they would not dare utter a sound.

Fore!

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I have never been one for sports games. The latest FIFA, Madden or NBA2K? None of them have caught my interest. And even though I live in a country that celebrates a vast array of different activities that showcase a person’s physical prowess, I have never much enjoyed the matches I was forced to attend or watched on the big screen. In fact, I found reading a huge Sherlock omnibus much more riveting than watching Australia qualify for the World Cup. Yes. I know. It may seem strange but I did bring a book into a stadium and spent most of my time poring over Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s prose. 

Enter Golf Story. Created by a small Australian indie developer, I had heard many good things about the game. In particular, its focus on role playing mechanics. So, when it was on sale for the Nintendo Switch I didn’t hesitate to pick it up.

The narrative of Golf Story is simple one. Yet it proved incredibly effective at teaching the game mechanics and for spurring the player on into the quirky world of golf. Having suffered a traumatic experience that involved a gaggle of geese, the player character is inspired to return to what they had loved as a child and fulfil their dreams. Abandoning the life they had built up to to this point, the protagonist throws themselves into becoming a pro. Their swing might be a disaster, at least according to Coach, but their tenacity and determination prove to be the one thing that shines through it all. Of course, being an Australian game, the story also came with a number of quirks. Golf Story does not take itself very seriously and it served to be a confusing experience when I was facing down a horde of skeletons to fighting off an old wizard. Yet when the credits rolled, I felt proud of my achievements in nabbing the tournament cup. 

That is not to say, though, that I did not suffer a few setbacks with the controls of the game. While the golfing took only a little while to wrap my head around (particularly in regards to wind), I found a few of the side missions much more frustrating. This was particularly true for disc golf and later on, the remote controlled car. Instead of using the analog stick to control the very motion of the frisbee disc golf, I could only push left or right for it to turn. After numerous failed attempts, I finally managed to figure out how to control the damn frisbee disc and direct it to where I wanted it to go. The remote controlled car also proved a frustrating exercise in this regard as the controls were never explained before we were expected to race down a track and do it again in reverse. Somehow or another, I persevered and managed to clinch the win. It was a near miss, though, as I had been tempted to abandon all hope and quiet my completionist heart.

What I also loved were the unique themes to each biome that was introduced in Golf Story. Every place felt unique. From Wellworn Grove to Bermuda Isles and Blue Moon Dunes. It was clear from the first moment that I stepped into Lurker Valley, however, that Golf Story was very much an Australian game. The didgeridoos were employed with great effect and I had my fingers tapping even as I was digging my golf ball out of the bunker it had landed in. 

Golf Story proved to be a surprise gem for me. In fact, I almost forgot that I was playing a sport due to all the calculations I had to make in order to hope for a hole-in-one. From the putting to driving the ball – the impact of each club felt just right. I also had fun trying to calculate the best way to ensure that I kept to the fairways (mostly) and onto the green. In the later courses, I would often curse my ineptitude when the ball would fall into the water and I would suffer a penalty in my attempts to remain at par and (fingers crossed) dropping a few birdies. And when the credits finished and the map panned out, I could not stop the smile that spread across my face when I realised that the world of Golf Story was Australia.

Now, I wish I could have shown my own screenshots on this blog, but Nintendo, in their infinite wisdom has encountered an error with uploading things to Facebook. And because I’m old, I don’t actually have a Twitter account. As such, I will be resorting to a few images taken from Google Images to showcase the lovely Golf Story. 

A Tangled Web of Complex Mystery

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Though I had purchased the game eons ago, it was not until quite recently that I found the time to slowly go through the backlog of games that I had purchased cheaply on various online stores. This one happened to be on Good Old Games (GOG), but I have an impressive list that spans both Steam and Epic Game Store. After hearing several glowing reviews and urged on by my own innate curiosity when it came to solving mysteries, I started up Return of the Obra Dinn. Being a connoisseur of problem-solving titles, with a deep love of crime, it made sense for me to try my hand at playing detective. After all, I have always prided myself on being observant and great at deducing the facts of the matter. In fact, during my high school years, I always thought of myself to be the next Sherlock Holmes. Barring that, I felt I would have been a great Kudo Shinichi/ Edogawa Conan with my excellent reasoning and analytical mind.

Return of the Obra Dinn puts players into the role of an insurance adjuster as they try to figure out what happened to the crew and passengers of the Obra Dinn, a ghost ship that mysteriously returned to port after missing for several years. Equipped with a journal from Henry Evans and a strange device that allows a person to review the events of the past, I started to try and piece together the events of the game.

The tutorial chapter of the game starts from the end. Though the scenes shown are frozen in time and the dialogue is sparse, it was quite easy to deduce what had happened. Almost immediately, I had identified the Captain. After beating down the remaining crew members that had decided to mutiny, he took his own life in despair. Most revealing, though, was the name “Isabela,” which helped immensely in identifying two characters: the Captain’s wife and the First Mate.

From humble beginnings, however, the story of the Obra Dinn took a much more dramatic turn. Suddenly, I was confronted by a battle at sea. The chapter was titled: The Doom and it was easy to see why. Tentacles rent the air, tossing crewmen overboard. Many were crushed on the gunner’s deck and others were torn asunder. This was where some of the limited choices proved a little frustrating. The depictions of their deaths oft times did not seem to match well with the verbs employed. In fact, I often wished that there was an option to say that a crew member died of blood loss or allowed me to be more specific in terms of their death. Having to say that ‘Jim Doe’ was killed by a sword from ‘Benjamin Smith’ did not fully capture the magnitude and accuracy of what had actually happened. In fact, ‘Jim Doe’ had his leg cut off by ‘Benjamin Smith’ because of reasons X, Y and Z. He thus died of blood loss in the arms of the First Mate. 

I remember reading a few forums that said some players wished for the option: they died of stupidity. After playing through the chapters, I could see why. The options available also proved finicky. As did some of the names for a few of the crew members. In the end, though, I managed to brute force my way through a couple by keeping two answers that I knew to be approximately correct and then simply changing the names.

My worst enemy, though, were my own preconceptions. For some reason, I thought the Persian was Indian. There was a small part of me that niggled at the fact that he might perhaps be of a different descent, but it was only after I searched for the answer, to confirm my deductions, that I realised that I had been blinded by my own prejudices and current perception of cultures. For some reason, I assumed the man wearing a turban was of Sikh religion, forgetting that this was set in the 1800s and that there were other ethnic groups that also used such head-wear.

There were also several moments that I googled certain words: knowing that they were not English. In this way, I was able to ascertain the identity of a few more crew members. Accents also proved important. And while I had thought to use the Formosan language to my advantage, I found to my dismay that it wasn’t all Mandarin. A search on the Steam forums revealed that it was pieces of Taiwanese Hokkien. These small touches helped heighten the authenticity of the world in a way not many other games have. 

Seeing the narrative of Return of Obra Dinn play out and figuring out what had happened served to be a delightful romp. While my first few hours gave me some very mild motion sickness, I was able to power through by constantly turning my attention away from the screen. I also liked how the game also encouraged use of one’s intuition and allowed me to make educated guesses without much punishment. It was actually quite gratifying seeing my few leaps in logic land when the game confirmed my suspicions.

But the mysteries did not end there. From Return of the Obra Dinn, I moved on to Kingdom Hearts 3. With the drop of the recent DLC Re: Mind, many players were rewarded with several answers to several jaw dropping and head scratching plot holes. Like Xion’s random appearance near the end, did Sora save Kairi and what really happened when Roxas just fell from the sky. I mean, thank goodness there was some more cutscenes to show Kairi being a bit more badass before she was summarily fridged crystallised. 

It also gave us new questions to puzzle over. Like: what is going on with Yozora? Is Tetsuya Nomura really that salty about Versus XIII? How does this all tie into Sora and the new battle with the Lost Masters?

WHO IS THE MASTER OF MASTERS?

AND…WHY WERE OUR BELOVED FINAL FANTASY CHARACTERS GIVEN ONLY A MINUTE OR SO OF SCREEN TIME?

Also, am I just supposed to accept that the pairings are: Sora x Kairi, Riku x Namine and Roxas x Xion? I mean, I will. Gladly. But please let us see how Riku and Namine fell in love. Also, how does Xion even work? Is she past Xion? Does that mean her heart, technically, needs to travel back in time to 358/2 Days? Or can she just blissfully live out her life in the future that is Kingdom Hearts 3? 

Even though I love Kingdom Hearts with all my heart, I can’t help but find myself a little confused at where the series is going. Til then, I’ll try to delve down deeper and figure out what chaos Nomura has planned for us next.