‘We’ve got to have this war now, or else it’ll never happen at all,’ added Miller, thumping a table top. ‘It’s the death of all Mundanes, or the Death of Magic.’
Needless to say, I got out of that cell, and out of Mundania, as fast as my legs could carry me.
— FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNAL OF FLOYD WATT
1. WELCOME TO WASTELAND
Behold, the blasted sands! Witness the mayhem! Feel the roar of the engines, the sting of the grit, and the thrill of the chase in this, the ultimate nihilist adventure destination. High Fantasy’s for scrubs: in Wasteland, the world’s already over, so you can do what you like. Fuck it, why not just punch a car in the face as soon as you get there? I did. Nobody stops you.[1]
Why Wasteland?
All things come to an end, and in the mangled psychogeography of the Worlds, Wasteland is the end of all things. While you can head to Wasteland directly, the most common way to get here is by accident: walk out into a desert with an electrically bleak mood, or World-hop while looking at an explosion,[2] and that’s it – welcome to the apocalypse. Or rather, the post-apocalypse – because if Wasteland is anything, it’s one giant, civilisational afterparty.
Many tourists might baulk at the prospect of such an eschatological getaway. But for those in the know, Wasteland is considered to be one of the best-kept secrets out there. Yes, society may have collapsed, but as any of the locals will tell you (often with a wide-eyed, screaming laugh), it needn’t be the end of the world! Indeed, despite all of the radioactive gales, marauding corpses and claustrophobic bunkers, the people of Wasteland are a surprisingly vibrant, carefree bunch.
Since death is always hovering just one minor coincidence away, the locals see no point in worrying about anything besides where the next strip of murkily sourced meat is coming from, or how much fuel is left in the murderwagons. You wouldn’t call it optimism, but it’s a kind of contentment, nonetheless. With the past obliterated and the future teetering on a knife’s edge, life in Wasteland is all about living in the moment.
Wasteland is definitely not for novice travellers or all but the mightiest families, and it certainly rewards a robust constitution. Nevertheless, if you’re prepared to accept the many horrors of the ruined world as part of everyday life, and you’re not afraid to take some fairly extreme cultural norms on board, you’re guaranteed many lovely, lovely days, and a holiday to end all holidays.
WHY I WOULD DIE FOR WASTELANDBy Beetle Man, Battle Lad of the Steel Castle
Welcome, traveller! Or as we say at the Steel Castle, Bloodfight Forever! You’re probably feeling scaredy-bad about visiting the Big Dusty – but don’t worry, brother-sister, once you’ve walked these horizons and stared into the Megaburn, you’ll be burgerfry-good in no time. I was like you once, ha ha! A seekyman I was, for a firm of rek-roo-tars. Came here backing my pack, to find myself, yeah? But I forgot my radgone tabs, didn’t I? Buggerbad! Grot! I got real sick, I did, but War Mum took me in and cleaned my redpipes right up. Gave me a new name, she did – Beetle Man – and a new job as a Battle Lad. Now I stoke the boilers on Count Truckula, War Mum’s big big car, and she takes us out on adventures all the time. We do all kinds of fungoods: sometimes we fight with the bunkerfolk, and sometimes we chase other cars, so the Wrench Ladies can eat ’em up and build new trucks for Mum. I even got a new best mate! He’s called Mugnor, and he’s a big fella with a microwave for a head. He doesn’t say much, granted, but he saved me from the ants once, and he’s got this one really cool boot. Together we’ve found a quiet, trusting love that I wouldn’t give up for the world – even if the world wasn’t already over.
‘Can’t Miss’ Experiences
1 Stumble upon an ancient, half-buried monument
Nothing says ‘post-apocalyptic’ more succinctly than a famous landmark protruding grimly from a sand dune, and Wasteland is strewn with them. Still, travellers often don’t enjoy the full Ozymandian resonance of these relics, since they aren’t familiar with the cultures that built them. Enter the entrepreneurs of the Monkey Zone, who have built copies of multiple earth landmarks in order to give tourists the full ‘damn you all to hell!’ experience. What better souvenir than a Polaroid of you on your knees, shaking your fist at the ruin of a monument from your hometown, while a gorilla in chainmail gives a thumbs-up in the foreground?[3]
2 Disrupt the order of an oppressive society
There are a dizzying number of survivor cultures in Wasteland, but what they all have in common is a penchant for weird and oppressive social structures, which tend to be so precarious that they can be tipped into chaos by the actions of a single outsider.[4] Indeed, in Hierarchia – the granddaddy of all ludicrously stratified dystopias – there are revolutions on at least an annual basis, giving tourists plenty of opportunities to feel the fuzzy glow that comes with toppling a tyrant.
3 Re-enact a story you barely remember for a crowd of rag-clad yokels
Outside all the fighting, a big part of Wasteland’s aesthetic is the veneration and constant retelling of stories from the wayback-times. As such, any traveller with tidbits of pop culture to share will get superb mileage from their rememberings. It really doesn’t matter what stories you recount – it’s not like a bunch of irradiated peasants living in a rusty old bus are
