There are unusual names in gaming. Some evocative, some mysterious, and some that leave you with eternal questions about what the game is actually about. Caravan SandWitch manages the feat of being all three. That sense of mystery lies at the heart of Plane Toast’s laidback sci-fi adventure, as you explore the crumbling remains of a distant, insignificant planet, far from anywhere important.
Caravan SandWitch asks many questions in its relatively short runtime. Questions about loyalty and loss, about tenacity and tribulation, and about knowing when to let go. It’s surprising just how thoughtful it is, and how often the remaining inhabitants of this planet will tug at your heartstrings.
You’re Sauge. Called back to your home planet Cigalo by your sister Garance’s distress signal. The thing is, Garance has been missing for years, and the mixture of hope and hopelessness that this distress signal causes is well played out. After hopping on a space train home – soundtracked by some gorgeous French vocals courtesy of composer Antynomy – you find that Cigalo is on the decline, with few families remaining in the remnants of your homestead.
You’re given use of a gloriously chunky yellow caravan, and it’s in this that you set out to explore the surface of Cigalo. There’s the remains of various industrial sites strewn across the landscape, and you have the time to thoroughly explore each of them, discovering new pieces of tech, or simply marvelling at the forgotten corners of this distant world, sitting down to take in a stunning vista. Cigalo still plays home to various people, those who can’t or won’t leave, and along the way you can accept quests to make their lives just a little bit easier, helping to slow the seemingly inevitable decay of this planet and its occupants.
The central loop of Caravan SandWitch is Metroid-esque, as you gain new abilities for yourself and your caravan, which allow you to access previously impassable sections of the terrain. The way you do this is to collect components from the various bits of machinery lying unused around the world, before returning them to your hometown for the new parts to be fabricated.
At times, Caravan SandWitch can feel a little stretched out, the component requirements necessitating a lengthy scavenging session, but once you settle into the laidback, timeless nature of adventuring here, any frustrations melt away. There’s no combat, just clambering, scanning the environment and tootling about in your caravan looking for parts, all of which is consistently enjoyable.
For a sci-fi game, set within this crumbling and forgotten landscape, Caravan Sand Witch is surprisingly whimsical. It’s gentle and touching in a way that most games simply can’t be, furthering the idea that indie games allow far more innovation and emotion than their AAA peers.
I love the art direction here – there’s a particularly French feel to the design of the characters and the choice of gentle pastel colours – and it feels like the sci-fi sister to recent games like Dordogne. The fact that it’s paired with Antynomy’s evocative soundscape, the synth-led tones helping to add to the sense of distance, melancholy and mystery, and you have an audio-visual delight that few can match.
