The basic conceit of an open-world game is that it gives you a world that you can freely explore, without the more common rail-roading from Level A to Level B. What this really means can differ from people to people.
For me personally, it's an escape from my own body: my chronic migraines and fatigue, my lack of dexterity, the way I keep losing my way or forgetting things halfway. By playing a game I could be somewhere else—somewhere that's not within this mortal vessel—and someone else—someone who hasn't lived their whole life with a body as cranky as mine.
Some games are more successful at this than other. Different open-world games have different focus: some favours the cinematic experience (offering you someplace fantastic instead of simply else), some fills the world with checkboxes to fill out (which can be fun, gives you some sense of control over your life. This, I also understand), some gets a little too mired in the artifice of realism. A Short Hike just happens to be what I personally needed
It's a small world, relatively: an island, with some smaller islands around it. There's a snowy mountain you can climb; should climb, in fact. You're here on vacation but need signal to call your mom, and the only place with a signal is all the way up there. Take your time, though. Chat with the kids playing balls and making sand castles, learn to fish from the guy on the boat or the guy on the lake, watch some folks racing around a crater, help a camper who lost their stuff. Climb, swim, jump, run around, explore.
But what really struck me from the first moment of playing it was how pleasant it feels to walk around. Something about how it responds to my control with the main character's animation and the sound it produces. The camera is fixed, but rotates around depending on where you are on the island, responding to your input and giving you just the right angle of what you need to see. It's hard to explain how nice it feels without letting you hold the controller/keyboard yourself, how freeing.
The simple, singular goal—climb the mountain—gives me something to work towards, even as I let myself get sidetracked and bask in whatever the island got to offer. A fun little conversation, an unexpected new tool or ability, the little nook and cranies hidden away. The characters I meet are friendly and they make sure to tell me, nah, take it easy, we'll be here.
The freedom to explore, but also freedom from anxiety: that I might be missing out on something, that I'm doing something wrong, that I'm not supposed to be in this place already. The island allows me to do what I like even as it—through environment design, through gentle camera angles and granular musical changes—nudges me towards the top.
And once I got to the top, once I've covered the whole island, explored everything, sidetracked by all the things I could find, wasn't that a pleasant experience? For a few hours I was happily someone else, a little bird exploring a small island. Or rather, exploring a world crafted with love by someone else. And maybe, maybe that's exactly what life is all about.
btw I linked to Itch earlier, but the game is also on Steam and various other platforms for very cheap, you should absolutely give the game a try if you haven't already!!!
