Warbling

Generally, when one individual gifted with the knowledge of geography and precise measurement- much like ourselves- comes to see the processes and workings of the literal lands, one would think them bonkers with how many backflips they have to do just to make sense of how it all works. For the world around us is not a place of neat measurements and precise little lines; it is a place of art, chaotic and wondrous.
What this means, in more layman-like terms, is that space in the world of Here is uncertain and notoriously imporecise- things tend to expand and contract, distances become fuzzy and wibbly warbly, and time itself always seems to be dawdling as it pleases; or rather, in terms even those not yet a layman may understand, everything's nonsense.
For you see, distance is a fickle thing- if it feels as if a city sprawls and twists and turns endlessly, or perhaps that anyone living in the area is a short skip away; then it's probably because they are. Distances are entirely arbitrary in this world, and space is created and twisted precisely when it is needed- for the land shapes itself to the needs, beliefs, and desires of those around it. Everything in Norcambria only takes an hour at most to travel to, simply because that's what the people believe it to be; Sunnyside is sprawling and endless, Oddzholme is cramped and bigger on the inside- all simple examples of this effect, 'warbling', in play.
Time also works in this imprecise, difficult to fully judge manner. Days can stretch and bend and shrink nigh endlessly, and nigh everyone feels the flow of time differently. Some places are locked eternally into one time of day, in an eternal sunrise, or sunset- or never see the light of day. And some? They never see tomorrow, their day stretching on endlessly.