

I don't have the heart, nor the ability to disturb her from her slumber. I awake late to find a new bed sitting next to mine in my dirty, boring, unchangeable loft bedroom - a girl called Kate. It's the style and charm the game does it with. It's not so much what the game does that makes you want to play it. Life in Animal Crossing is what you make it, and somehow, this can lead to a fierce loyalty to your carefree life in NewGenki, Stinktown, Hyrule or whatever you choose to name your little borough. The town has features like a museum and town hall, and plenty of opportunities for archeology, star gazing, fishing and bug catching. You find yourself in a town populated with animals, and live among them. That is, if our lives were the kind of odd children's program you might find lost somewhere in the schedules of CBeebies. Let me scale backwards for the uninitiated:Īnimal Crossing is a simulator of life. This is Animal Crossing: Wild World, and the clue is in the title - the most major change to this game is the addition of Wi-Fi capabilities, allowing you to visit your other Animal Crossing owning chums in their towns, or allow them to visit your town - with up to three visitors in a town at once. Don't kid yourself - this isn't, by any means, Animal Crossing 2. I really have done all of this before, in Animal Crossing on the GameCube. Of course, they're not just vague memories. With the deepest, strangest feeling that I've done this all before, I roll into my bed, close my eyes, and wait for the next day. In the end the work raises a mere 1,400 bells, and Nook has already tired of me. I'm particularly taken with a burly penguin called Roald - he's always so.

They are mostly menial tasks, allowing me to get used to my surroundings, helping me get to know my animal friends. It's little more than a shack, and Nook, an entirely too-friendly raccoon, is forcing me to pay off my mortgage, an astounding 19,800 bells, by working for him in his shop. She let me know Tom Nook had prepared a home for me. The girl behind the counter in the Town Hall, Pelly, is very helpful.

I have strange vague memories of another place, another time, when the Kapp'n would take me across to a beautiful island, and sing sea shanties while he did so. Despite that fact, he drops me off cheerfully. I'm heading to the town of NewGenki, a small town populated by animals, and I have no money to pay the fare. The driver, a frog, introduces himself as the Kapp'n, and asks me a variety of questions to find out who I am - secretly it helps me ascertain that very thing myself. The first thing I remember is waking up in the back of a warm taxi cab, speeding through the driving rain.
