Because we’re nerds – and we are, let’s face it – we love an escape room. What’s not to love about them, though?
I mean, they’re a puzzle made flesh, so to speak. A point-and-click adventure in real life. A text adventure where there are no syntax issues.
They’re the next logical step for people who love video games (50%) and board games (100%). And puzzles. And satisfaction. And occasional bouts of smugness.
We did our first escape room in Huddersfield. We escaped with twelve minutes left on the clock. We did our second escape room in Edinburgh this morning. We escape with two and a half minutes on the clock.
It was tense, as you might imagine. Panic set in at the forty-five minute mark. We’d solved puzzles – most of them anyway – with amazing skill and panache. We’d solved one letter cipher using, subconsciously, letter frequency techniques before – much later – we realised that the clue to how to use the cipher was elsewhere. Smug, you see.
But the latter half of the escape, or 19 remaininh minutes in our case, went to shit. We had to get hints – which pains me greatly – but for daft stuff like why the frick the complicted word tumbler won’t open. Our hints, aside from one when we were too flustered to think, revolved around technical issues – we’d radio and say we’d solved x but couldn’t get y to open. We had all the solutions, just a woeful lack of finger dexterity or something of that nature.
But we made it out – having retrieved the Holy Grail (presumably not the real one…)
We’re two for two on escape room victories going into our third.
Which is tomorrow.
In the other room at the place we went today.