The Indie Informer

Before jumping into Wanderstop‘s inviting world unguided, I was told it would take around an hour to hit the end of the preview. Ninety minutes later, I still haven’t reached the cutoff. Mostly, this is my fault for getting lost in things like keeping the grounds tidy, exploring all the shop’s curiosities, and spending time with my thoughts. And while there was still plenty of game to go, I sipped enough of the offered brew to wash away my main concern.

Cozy-style games can tend to feel insubstantial, which isn’t always bad if they aim to offer a light experience. But having previously played Wanderstop’s introduction, I hoped the gameplay would match its unexpectedly heavy themes. Luckily, a clever underpinning of systems gives the experience a complex flavor.

Skipping past the rise and fall that led me to the little tea heaven nestled in the woods, which you can read about here, I find myself unexpectedly in charge of running a small business. My character’s defining razor-sharp focus pushes me to find demonstrably helpful things to do. I pick up a pair of clippers and a broom to keep the gardens clean. I all but forced a cup of tea down my first customer’s throat. And I researched literally every variation of garden ingredients I could.

This mindset is fittingly challenged, both through dialogue and game design. The shop doesn’t work like fast-past cooking sims. Rather, tea-seekers will amble onto the property, looking to chat. Engaging in conversation — which protagonist Alta is pained to do — these customers seem more interested in unburdening themselves than sampling the wares.

One early regular is a dad who just wants to connect with his son (by dressing up and pretending to be a knight). His rambling tale of searching for adventure and desperately seeking his kid’s approval eventually lends itself to a tea request, namely, asking for a brew to give him extra energy to accomplish quests.

Checking my handy guide, I noticed one of the plants I’d grown earlier produces a fruit packed with energy. So, the multi-step tea-making process starts with a trek to the garden. I water the desired plant and a fruit bursts forward. Putting this in my pocket, I bring out my basket to collect a bushel of tea leaves and scatter these on a woven station to dry while I head to the impossibly tall tea brewing apparatus.

I can only reach the top of this machine via a stories-tall sliding ladder. At the top, I pull a rope to summon fresh water into a beaker. Just below this is a bellows that I have to hit several times to heat the water to the perfect temperature. Hot water then flows to a large tub with an open lid – this is where I throw in the tea leaves and fruit. Finally, down back on the ground, I summon brew into a perfectly placed mug.

As you might guess given the number of whimsically inefficient tasks, this isn’t a fast process. It’s not supposed to be. The customer is happy to wander the landscape until you bring them their perfect tea and every step is charming in and of itself. It’s like the game itself is encouraging players to take their time and smell the brewing ingredients.

Additionally, I have a reason to sit down and enjoy every tea I brew as well after serving a customer. Different ingredients cause distinct deep-buried memories to simmer up to the surface. Grabbing a mug and finding a snug place either in the cushioned storefront or verdant lawns results in a mini self-therapy session. These sit-downs dig into why I might have pushed myself to near-total collapse trying to reach my goals. The protagonist’s musings are messy and relatable. Hard and tangled, they aren’t the kind of issues washed away with a warm drink. However, it’s obvious Wanderstop’s gentle prodding and comforting mission offers a space to safely explore these gnarled roots.

I haven’t played anywhere near long enough to know the ending, though I get the sense Alta won’t leave this experience “fixed,” as she so desperately wants. She may never overcome the urge to push herself beyond her limits. She may never accept that her worth isn’t tied to ever-continuing victories. Walking away from this glimpse into Wanderstop, I felt like that didn’t matter. The moments spent enjoying myself in the game weren’t a means to an end, but rather the end itself. On top of that, life in the sheltered shop quickly becomes a little more disconcerting, but I’ll have to wait for the full release to unravel that mystery.