I’ve always loved mazes. They’re one of my favorite kinds of puzzle. When I was a child, I had a book of mazes, and I traced them with my finger instead of a pencil so I could come back and face the challenge over and over. After a while, I got so interested in mazes that I started drawing my own. My teachers would reprimand me for doodling winding paths on lined notebook paper and embellishing with pictures of caves and monsters and rivers and forests. That’s why I decided that one day I will have my own labyrinth.
If I were rich and eccentric, I would build a labyrinth on my rich and eccentric estate. When I say labyrinth, I don’t mean a corn maze or a hedge maze. My problem with hedge mazes is that the vegetation is not sufficiently solid. I want a brick or stone maze with corridors that cannot be negotiated by any means other than finding the correct path. It might even need a ceiling to prevent cheaters from scaling the walls. And, of course, it would be vast: going through it should require several miles of travel and take no less than an eight-hour day.
I would have a number of uses for my own personal labyrinth. First, I would explore it until I knew every path, so I could always find my way around. Additionally, I would place interesting features in the dead ends: Gardens, fish ponds, sculptures, hidden tunnels, fountains, and anything else that my mind could conceive. I would probably leave it open for friends, family, and passersby to traverse at their own risk. And if that were the case, it would necessitate a logbook at the end for explorers to document their experiences.
Activities and seasonal themes could also add mood to the labyrinth. Paintball and water balloon battles would be challenging and memorable. Games of Hide-and-Seek would be nothing short of epic, as would Easter egg hunts. I have no doubt that people would come from miles around at Halloween for a terrifying experience in a giant, ghoul-infested maze.
Naturally, I don’t have the spare cash sitting around to build such a construction, nor do I own the land to accommodate it. Costs would include design, materials, real estate, and labor, and I couldn’t even begin to guess how much it would cost to do it right.
But regardless of costs, some day I hope I can afford to build a giant labyrinth that is worthy of this crazy fantasy. Leave me a comment if you would visit my labyrinth.