After one dog decided it was satisfied with us and carried on to the next thing, another would charge towards us. Our picnic blanket eventually became a minefield of guacamole, crumbs and saliva. As frequently as dogs came from one direction, engrossed players of Pokemon Go came from the other. It soon became clear that this was because the only two sorts of people occupying the park were those walking their dogs or playing the immensely popular game. There were even moments of crossover: several families strolled past, the parents walking the dogs with the children lagging behind deeply concentrated on catching Pokemon.

It wasn’t only children obsessing over the game. Roughly 10 metres away from my picnic rug, a couple of 30-somethings were stumbling back and forth and noting each other’s progress in the game. It seemed as though they had been playing for quite a while, as one of them mentioned something about a Pokemon they had caught earlier by the playground, which was at the other side of the massive park. Chances are they made the trip to the park specifically to play the game.

Does it really engage you with your environment if you’re just going where the game begs you to for rare Pokemon? These 30-somethings weren’t gazing off at the beautiful shimmering lake, or the swaying trees, but rather circling the same patch of grass for awkwardly long periods of time. It scarily recalls the gameplay of the original games themselves, where all too often you would find yourself in the same nondescript grassland for hours to encounter an obscure Pokemon to brag to your friends about the next day.