“I want to go to Kichijoji,” she said.
My friend searched my face for some kind of reaction and I nodded like I had a clue where that was. Maybe it was my blank stare or the lack of any real substance to my response that gave it away. Generously clueing me in, she explained that it was a hip little neighbourhood in Tokyo.
“I wouldn’t even have a hard time getting around. I have a good idea of the town’s layout.”
The year was 2016 and Persona 5 had just been released. In line with the trend of many other video games which came before it, the various locations within had emulated the pockets of real-world places: specifically, Japan. Whether it be after school, on a lazy Sunday, or late at night, thousands of players log off of the physical realm and immerse themselves in Atlus’ virtual rendition of the Shibuya district. As video games continue to facilitate an extension of our reality beyond the physical, this puts into question how the future of movement takes shape.
Whether it be the increased accuracy in maps, or an immersive experience, the technological advancements of gaming companies make playing pretend feel more and more real. Such an effect is evident in the very diction of video game culture, which is inundated with the notion of movement. The very idea of an online lobby, the act of ’‘jumping onto the game’ or ‘landing’ in a particular location, insinuates that the player is elsewhere despite being physically stationed in their room or at a PC cafe. From this, it is understood that these video games are not activities, but virtual spaces in which they take place.
With these advanced developments in the realism of video games, many may speculate a reduction in physical travel and tourism due to the overwhelmingly accurate and accessible substitutes that video games offer. After all, if one had already ‘been’ to the place, albeit digitally, what would be the point of spending thousands of dollars to experience the same thing in real life?
However, there are certain elements of travel which cannot be enjoyed through a screen, nor when you are in an active pursuit to stay alive. For instance, video games only offer superficial cultural immersion through oversaturated stereotypes. It would be laughable to say that Chun Li from StreetFighter is a paradigmatic representative of Chinese culture. They are also limited in routes for exploration and lack the authentic sensory experience of real travel. In fact, the trends of the wider population have shown that video games inspire more trips to well-known and obscure destinations alike, rather than serving as substitutes. Take Chernobyl in Ukraine, for example. Until the recent conflict, tours of this power plant were popular as an item on the travel itineraries of many Call of Duty fans.
The advent of video game tourism is not lost on businesses and national agencies either. Assassin’s Creed has taken advantage of this social phenomenon by acquiring sponsorships from Tourism Ireland in the release of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla and from Italian tourism boards for Assassin’s Creed II, putting their rugged terrains and idyllic canals on the map.
Furthermore, I argue that these travel destinations have a certain appeal, as rather than seeming new or foreign to the visitor, video game familiarity would invoke nostalgia for the place beyond the screen. After all, even if a fan of Assassin’s Creed visited contemporary Rome, it would not entirely satiate the desire to visit the version of Ancient Rome that they experienced in the game. With the development of technologies, travellers may even prefer to go to these virtual ‘places’ rather than tangible destinations.
The line between the virtual and reality has increasingly blurred as the rapid development of VR playfully toes the line. The rise of VR has made evident that the digital sphere is no longer something to be observed; walled off by the screen, but a place in which one could be immersed. This has provided an arguably more effective method of marketing for travel and tourism agencies as users are able to test out the terrains more freely than what was previously afforded by video games. We are already seeing the rise of virtual travel through the development of these programs such as National Geographic’s Explore VR which comes at the agreeable price of $9.99, and VR experiences of global exhibitions housed by galleries and museums.
These avenues of digital tourism have remained a facet of stimuli to the travel industry, however it is difficult to forecast whether this symbiotic relationship will continue in the face of rapidly advancing technologies. We complain that these digital replicas are ‘not the same’, but as virtual ‘places’ increasingly become an extension of reality, it puts into question what will happen to travel and tourism when such shortcomings are answered. Not only could the future see the resolution of these flaws, but an improvement of the overall tourist experience. It could extinguish the downside of real travel; long lines to big attractions, deceptive airbnb’s, and the constant watch for pickpockets. Would the long journey across oceans be worth the trouble when more favourable replicas of travel destinations are only a touch away? If we could climb Mount Everest in our living room, perhaps fewer people would risk being one of the 340 (and counting) who did not make it down.
At some point in our youth, we have all been asked, “if you could have one superpower, what would it be?” If your answer was teleportation, you may be in for a treat in the next century, as science fiction begins to develop an uncanny resemblance to the real.
