In fact, this post is completely unnecessary. Anything I can tell you about Atlantis makes no sense, and there is no point for me to try to write or to try to explain it.
Instead of wasting your time reading here, just go now and book a game. Because Atlantis is not a room, it’s an experience. And how can I describe to you in a blogpost the taste of wild strawberries? And how can I explain to you what freesia smells like? How do you describe the sunset over the Aegean Sea? It’s the same with Atlantis. There is simply no way to tell. You just have to go, touch it, taste it, discover it. Because to say that Atlantis is an “escape room” is like telling you that the sunset over the Aegean Sea is orange-ish and is on the horizon.
I’ve spoken a lot lately with family, friends, escape room enthusiast and fans about what I think about the genre, what I think its future will look like and what I personally expect to happen (I talk a lot of nonsenses lately…) about first, second and N generation rooms and that hardly anyone in the country will go beyond the well known on the market because simply it’s risky to afford it. I don’t know who to thank that Jana and Pavel haven’t listened to me even a little bit and for the last year and a half have worked hard. So I can play today what I will boldly name the next generation room, the one I have been waiting for a long, long time and what I thought I would never see in Sofia for many reasons.
Your quest for finding Poseidon’s heart begins right after you book the game. The small pieces of information you receive on the phone and in the email, such as “don’t wear earrings” and “wear your old clothes and don’t come wearing heels,” start to tickle your curiosity. Knowing the level of Teorema professionalism that I already wrote about a year and a half ago, we should have to know what’s coming, which didn’t stop us to put our favourite shirts and jackets (Jordan!) and embrace the adventure of this summer (or maybe the whole year).
I won’t say more about the story. I will keep my mouth shut about how the game starts. I will tell you ‘tho that 90% of the puzzles we haven’t seen elsewhere, the moment that you play with your bodies in parallel with your minds is amazing. I consider it pure heroism that one person makes the interior because it is magnificent and dramatic. My favourite moment (they know what I’m talking about) when I stand in the middle of the room and wave my hands like a conductor and hear DUNNNN, DUNN, DUN, DUN, DUNNNN and shout to my team “it’s happening, we are almost there, IT’S HAPPENING, THIS IS MADNESS, come on” …
In the movies about Indiana Jones, there is a scene where the door to the temple (the same one that they have been searching the whole movie) opens and Indie enters with a torch and his face is amazed, ecstatic, WE FOUND IT, IT’S HERE! Today I was Indiana Jones, today while Vasko was directing the lights and while the crystals shimmered, I was the seeker. I clapped and jumped, and in the end, I realized that I haven’t looked at the time in the last 63 minutes or checked how long it had been since we were here. In short, Atlantis is a masterpiece, one of a kind.
For the first time since escaping rooms, I get the same feeling as when I was a kid, and I have read a super interesting book. That sadness that makes you sigh that it is over, that you will never re-read it for the first time, that you will never close your eyes and taste wild strawberries for the first time again. It’s the same with Atlantis. I’m sad that I won’t be able to play it again and see it with the same eyes. And I envy all of you who have that opportunity.
P.S. Of course, we played like a bunch of idiots. We’ve lost touch, and we just quacked like a flock of wild geese. However, since we have predominantly single males in the team, if I were to propose marriage, the ring would be right next to Poseidon’s heart (wink wink).