Wanderstop Review
Tea, trauma, change, and getting in touch with your inner Boro
In January, I wrote that I was eagerly awaiting Wanderstop, the first release from Ivy Road, because of a combination of the art style and its protagonist, Alta. She’s a fighter who wants nothing to do with the calm, comfy life depicted in the game, a perspective we don’t see much in so-called cozy games.
Now that I’ve spent twelve hours and change in the idyllic clearing where Wanderstop’s tea shop is located, I’m in awe of what Ivy Road created.
I have a lot in common with Alta. I think we all have a lot in common with Alta. No, I’m not a champion fighter or anything, but I’ve dealt with, and still do, the feeling of not doing enough or being enough. Not good enough at my job. Not good enough at being a Mom. Not good enough at being a content creator. Not being good enough at being enough.
Alta’s battles are similar. She thinks that because she’s been losing fights, she’s somehow less than what she was. It affected her so much that she could not carry her sword, her most prized possession, the symbol of who she believed she was. I thought I was a failure when I went back to retail last year, and more specifically, a job I said I wouldn’t go back to. I cried. I screamed. I cried some more. But I started this slice of the Internet, I started posting more about indies on TikTok, and while I’m still employed at the place I said I wouldn’t go back to, I have something related to games that makes me rediscover my love for them on an almost daily basis.
And I’ll be honest with you. Sometimes I still cry. Sometimes, I have a moment when I let a scream out.
Side note: Shoutout to everyone who has followed and subscribed here. It means the world.
What’s the constant behind Wanderstop? There is no constant. There’s no grind, no rat race, no in-game clock or stamina meter to keep track of. The built-in tedium is its own boss to accomplish, especially if you’re like me (and Alta) and need a set of tasks to do. Eventually, I settled into a routine; I’d help folks who came to the shop, but exploring the area and creating all the plant/fruit hybrids was exciting and didn’t feel like a chore. And I’d stop and share my tea with Boro, the chipper keeper of Wanderstop who becomes your friend, confidant, and guardian of sorts.
(If anyone from Ivy Road is reading, Boro plushie on Makeship when?)
Honestly, getting a cup of tea, finding a new bench to sit on, observing the world, and listening to Alta reflect on her life were some of the best parts of the game, especially depending on the tea she was drinking. Each variety you brewed had different attributes, ranging from tastes to effects, which made Alta’s reflections all the more interesting to listen to.
I thought, in particular, that it was clever how the grove changed as Alta’s journey progressed. In the beginning were the muted pastels seen in the trailers, but then the grove transitioned to a more autumnal palette before a stark grayscale version after Alta confronted the reason behind her Groundhog Day-esque adventures, then finally back, closer to what it had been in the beginning.
The journey was coming full circle, but on Alta’s terms. And she was aware enough to know that once she stepped out of the grove, she’d probably still be fighting those demons, but again, on her terms.
In conclusion, I’ll leave you with this: Even with the occasional bits of screen tearing and odd texture loading, it didn’t take away from the overall feeling of completeness I had as the credits rolled. I won’t forget Alta, Boro, or the little tea shop in the woods anytime soon.
Last year, I awarded Closer the Distance a ten for its emotional impact and creative storytelling about grief and community. Today, I’m awarding Wanderstop the same number for its storytelling about burnout and change, and listening to that inner voice inside of you telling you to slow down and enjoy some tea.
Next time I’m at the local coffee shop, I think I’ll be picking up a chai in Wanderstop’s honor.
And remember, you are enough.
