A Summer of Screens and Sunburns
Ramblings on childhood summers, when loading screens soundtracked the hottest days and arcades provided shelter from the heat
On holiday, cooking in the sun, thinking about early PlayStation days and the arcade brilliance of Namco’s System 11 and Sega’s Model 2.
I remember the lawn mower next door had been going for what felt like hours, its steady hum mixing with the distant sound of a football match drifting from someone's radio.
Another sweltering July afternoon in the 90s, and while some mates were down at the local park kicking a football about or queuing for a poke* from the ice cream man, I was sprawled on my bedroom carpet, controller in hand, visiting familiar polygonal worlds.
Crash Bandicoot, Final Fantasy VII, Gran Turismo…
When my parents bought me a PlayStation, they probably hoped I'd play occasionally before inevitably wandering outside to "get some fresh air," as my mum always said.
I got outside for a bit, at least.
Kickabouts in the park, bike rides through the estate, lounging in the garden with a magazine. But come rain or shine, my PlayStation was always there waiting, ready to transport me.
Even weeks away on sun-drenched Spanish islands couldn't quiet my longing. Gaming magazines in unfamiliar languages and arcades that accepted pesetas revealed worlds of unexpected delight.
My mum and dad were in the bar across the alley, split from me by a shaft of golden evening light, while I drifted around the arcade opposite, trying to decide what to play next.
Point Blank? Sega Rally? Maybe it was time for a game of Time Crisis, the machine was calling for “Action” after all.
The places I visited in Europe held onto their vintage arcade machines far longer than my local ever did. One appeared to care about gaming history. The other cared about turnover.
These are the pieces I regret not documenting properly. No photos, no records, nothing saved. They're lost to me now except for memories that grow hazier each day.
I'm grateful while I can still hold on to them.
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Summer Breeze
We all remember that first beach level from Crash Bandicoot.
The sand, the rolling waves, bouncing crates, and the tricky obstacles. It felt like a world waiting to be explored, one spin attack at a time.
Even now, I'm amazed at what Naughty Dog managed.
And while Crash Bandicoot had been one of my earliest games, and despite accumulating newer titles, I'd find myself returning to those colorful, spinning adventures time during warmer months.
But Crash Bandicoot was a more solitary experience. Gran Turismo, however, was a friendship enabler.
When rain drummed against the windows and lightning flickered across the darkened sky, I remember we finally, *finally* completed our first endurance race.
Pure concentration, nursing the battered tyres through lap after grueling lap. The satisfaction was intoxicating: that perfect combination of skill, persistence, and pure determination that only video games could deliver.
A monumental achievement that was the sum of our late night snacking and banter. Yes, much of this is about gaming memories, but it's not entirely lost on me that much of this is about childhood freedom.
And finally, the epic saga that would take me right through the summer.
The loading screen music of Final Fantasy VII transports me back to those long summer days when time seemed infinite.
Window slightly ajar, the electric fan barely cutting through the stuffy air, I'd be completely lost in Midgar's neon-lit streets.
Those were the days when adventures felt like they could genuinely span the entire months, when the boundaries between the virtual world and those lazy months blurred into one endless adventure.
The afternoon sun would creep across my bedroom floor as I guided Cloud through his journey, and I'd barely notice the light shifting from harsh white to golden amber to the deep purple of evening.
Whether it was scorching hot or drizzling outside, the PlayStation offered the same reliable escape.
Sure, the disc would occasionally skip, a heart-stopping moment that sent me scrambling to clean the surface with my school polo shirt, but somehow that only made each successful load feel more precious.
Years later, whenever I smell Factor 30 or hear the distant drone of a lawn mower on a summer's day, I'm transported back to that summer.
Not always to the kickabouts I missed or the trips to the local park I skipped, but to those perfect hours with my PlayStation.
Sometimes on my own, sometimes with friends and sometimes at a small coastal Spanish town with surrounded by the one thing that brings nationalities together - really great games.
*A poke is a Northern Irish (and potentially Scottish) term for ice cream.
If you enjoy my work and want to support it, consider buying me a coffee. It helps keep the words flowing and the ideas brewing!
Great read! Definitely have similar memories! I never quite got into Gran Turismo, but as a kid, I LOVED a PlayStation game called NGEN Racing! It was such a fast-paced game, with electric music pulsing in the background. All the while though, it was definitely the type of game I remember just getting lost in with how fun it was and how amazing the graphics looked!
Great write-up, thanks for sharing!
Such a good read. I spent a lot of time on the tracks of the original Gran Turismo as a kid.