I always feel one games weekend is never enough, so less than two weeks after the Crickhowell Marathon, I left Bristol bound for another three days of non-screen fun; this time with Chris, Paul J (hereafter referred to as PJ) Paul H, and Stuart. Like a Chauffer of Fun, Chris materialised at my door early (ish) Friday morning to spirit me away to darkest Dorset... we looked so excited Sally insisted on taking a photo. At least I think that's why she took it. There was some giggling on her part.
First stop was Chris' house, where we were joined by Paul and Stuart. Everyone had the day off and, although check-in wasn't until 4pm, we saw no reason not to begin the fun sooner. After a brief catch-up the first box to spring its lid open was Kingdom Builder.
I was pretty rusty on the rules, but - even though I always misunderstand at least one scoring criteria - they're pretty simple. Play a card, place three settlements. Play any extra abilities to move settlements. Over the course of the game the bucolic landscape turns into a nightmarish housing estate, with everything but mountains and water crushed underfoot. Fun!
Chris 57 / Paul 50 / Sam 46 / Stuart 41
While Chris' cat, Chester, embodied a different type of relaxation...
...we moved on to NMBR9, the Take It Easy-esque game of geometric architecture and swearing. Paul won this one with an impressive 92, followed by myself (87), Stuart (71) and Chris (70).
Now getting warmed up, we broke out something a little more spicy, the Darwinesque Hey That's My Fish, or as Chris inadvertently christened it, Hey That's My Fish You Arsehole. It always strikes me how incredibly brutal this game can be for something that seems squarely aimed at the family market.
More by luck than judgement, I took the laurels here, followed closely by Paul with Stuart and Chris not far behind. We then swerved from confrontational to utterly abstract as Chris presented us with Ganz Schon Clever, Wolfgang Warsch's game of bonus-balls gone wild. I've played the sequel about 30-odd times over the last year, and there was something nostalgic about revisiting the original.
Then it was time to go! We snaffled down some lunches (thanks Chris) and hit the road, bound for the small village of Trent, just outside Sherborne.
Thanks Google
The cottage was a rather delightful centuries-young affair, with a fireplace so huge someone could have slept in it. Fortunately this wasn't necessary though, and the living room saw very little action. The kitchen was an enormous L-shape with one aspect of it, if you'll forgive the estate agent lingo, featuring the perfect games table: long, wide and chunky, with an unintrusive grey finish. After gathering PJ from the station and stocking up on supplies, we celebrated this furniture triumph by playing 7 Wonders on it.
My Halikarnassus was looking good for raising buildings free of charge, but as so often in 7 Wonders, dreams of triumph proved short-lived. Chris' military might and guilds of amazement got him a 65/62/55/51/41 win, with Paul threateningly second: Paul's winning of the games, or threatening to, was a feature of the weekend, with both Chris and Stuart assuring us that Paul would win. On the other hand, the penalty for saying a game was 'clever' was suffered most by Paul, so we take our minor victories and lick our wounds...
Next up was PJ's choice of Downforce, which saw regular online play during our Covid year, but was new to Paul and Stuart. I made the habitual mistake of betting on myself in the first instance and then throwing good money after bad by attempting to rescue my driver's inevitable struggles alongside the other tail-ender, Chris. Meanwhile a battle royale was being fought ahead of us, with PJ at one stage so far ahead of the others he stopped moving his car and was surprised to suddenly find himself second. The only player with two cars was Stuart - it worked out for him:
Stuart 19 / Paul 17 / PJ 14 / Chris 10 / Sam 9
With the evening upon us, Paul seconded to the kitchen and began rustling up a chilli. The four still at the table played Kabuto Sumo.
Chris and I faced off in our insect wrestling match with PJ and Stuart, not bothering with any special powers. For a while it looked like Chris and I were on the verge of a win, as we pushed Paul and Stuart in turn to the edge of the arena. But our lack of forward planning left egg on our faces as we ended up with no pieces to push, and lost by submission. We consoled ourselves with the chilli, which also fired us up for the meat of the evening: Spheres of Influence.
If you were ever pining for your younger days playing Risk but didn't want to experience it again because you knew in your heart of hearts it's a bit cack and never ends, Spheres is the fix for your nostalgia. It's got the map, the armies, the battles, the slings and arrows of fate. But it plays in two hours instead of two days and is just ten times the game Risk is.
Players fight over (and win by) controlling the titular spheres of influence, meaning they occupy all the of that region. Certain territories (areas of interest) get you tactical cards to play in battle, others (oil production) get you additional turns in each round and each area has a number value: the higher the number, the more troops you get to add at the start of each of the five rounds. I went troop-heavy and boasted an impressive presences early on, only to find my nose rubbed in it repeatedly whenever I engaged in battle in more tactically-endowed opponents. Stuart started in north America and headed to Europe, Chris occupied the Middle East, Paul snaked around the Phillipines and PJ started in Australia but began crossing oceans early to expand.
Spheres of Influence has a wonderful turn-order system that imbues each round with tension: turns are cards: you always get two but can add more by controlling oil territories. All turn cards are shuffled and revealed one at a time, so nobody knows whose turn it will be until it arrives. My seeming-dominance of the Eastern hemisphere began to crumble mid-game as attempts at expansion imploded, and what's more Chris and Stuart fought back. PJ's conquest of South America looked an open and shut case early on but he found both Paul and Chris on his case. And we should really have got in Chris' face more in Africa, where he swanned around taking control like some kind of Victorian expeditionist with small man syndrome. Despite belated efforts to get in his face, Chris was spherical king:
Chris: 4 spheres, 4 cities
Stuart: 3 spheres, 3 cities
Paul: 3 spheres, 3 cities
PJ/Sam: 2 spheres, 2 cities
If that wasn't adventurous enough, we headed off to Waterdeep.
Chris, happy with his lot
To be frank, I don't remember a huge amount about this game, coming as it did hot on the heels of such an epic. My big-chinned lord rewarded me for every quest I completed, so I just set about completing as many smaller quests as I could, only occasionally barking disdain when one I had my eye on was snaffled by someone else. It was a breezy hour and a bit of saddling up the mythical mounts and placating various statues et cetera, that Stuart and I almost both won. As it happened, the almost was more descriptive of Big Chin:
Stuart 99 (wins on tie-breaker)
Sam 99
Chris 96
PJ 95
Paul 83
Paul's last place was something of a surprise, but he was about to have his revenge, in Perudo!
I didn't take a photo of Perudo, but here's the enormous stereo Chris brought with him
This is even fuzzier than Waterdeep, as we'd been gaming for hours and consuming reasonably-restrained amounts of alcohol for the final furlong. But Paul beat me off to claim the win after many shenanigans: Paul / Sam / Chris / PJ / Stuart.
I then retired to my chambers - literally, a different building out the back - whilst they played Skull. Paul Jefferies won.
* * *
The night was bonkers, as the wind rattled every part of the outbuilding and, seemingly inspired, the boiler made various Heath-Robinson type noises which occasionally reached almost heroic levels of clanking, swishing and clicking. I eventually staggered back into the house at the rather belated time of 10.40am, only to find that what I'd thought was a storm of outside-chamber proportions had been doing the same to the house - everyone had been up half the night. We took our time getting going, with the gentle tetrominoes of Silver and Gold first to appear, as Stuart (110pts) Paul (107) and PJ (98) began cranking up the gamesometer.
note the coffee
Chris and PJ then headed off to Sherborne on a mission of mercy (supplies) whilst Stuart, Paul and I tried out TEN, the game of collecting runs of numbers in suits but also currency and pushing your luck but also auctions. It's quite the confection for a short set-builder, but we all rather enjoyed it.
Stuart rinsed us, managing to finagle an entire run (1 through 9) to nab ten bonus points:
Stuart 31 / Sam 23 / Paul 19
Paul may have done better if I'd not discovered an extra rule halfway through the game. I know it's tedious of me but it is my calling card! We followed that with (Extreme) Biblios, where I nabbed a win on a tie-breaker (Sam and Paul 7, Stuart 4)
Then I looked at the map, pondering the wisdom of a walk.
But with all of us in various states of fatigue, it never quite manifested. Instead we regrouped as a five and played Las Vegas!
Thematically, it's similar to Evolution: animals jostle for position, only now across a map rather than a watering hole. Species develop in abundance, and also adaptability. Animals mess with each other on the map, eating up a food source or - less thematically - pushing glaciers in a certain direction. There are no less than 13 phases to each round and by the time Chris explained the thirteenth I'd forgotten numbers 3-7. It was bonkers, and complicated, and long, and crazy.
It was also dastardly, and sneaky, and all manner of good feisty stuff I like. Critical are the cards - you can only play one (usually) each round, but they're not so much fringe benefits as molotov cocktails (or worse) causing all manner of shenanigans across the board.
Four hours after we embarked on the odeyssey, it came to an epic conclusion with Paul sailing to a comfortable lead but Chris racing past me to claim second:
Paul 138
Chris 116
Sam 108
Stuart 92
Paul 80
What a beast! After that we needed something silly, and Chris kicked things off by saying that my fart sounded like someone "standing on a malteser". I wasn't sure I agreed, but was too impressed to contest it. Stuart went off to cook a luscious curry and we played Kakerlaken Poker.
Chris lost that, then we ate curry and prepared for our next Fairly Big Game in Magnate.
I wish I could tell a different tale to this one: how my canny strategising, tactical chicanery and clever brinkmanship pushed me to a fantastic last-second victory just before the crash. But my crap strategising, tactical buffonery and decidedly-unclever brinking meant I held off as everyone sold, and the two of the next three Risk card - game-end triggers - caused the stock to plummet. Curses!
Paul £42.5M
Stuart £37.7M
PJ £28.3M
Chris £24.9M
Sam £23.1M
Woulda, coulda, shoulda...
My ineptitude then spread across all of us as we attempted Just One and royally screwed the pooch, ending up with a derisory score of five!!
Now in the mood for some more silly stuff, we cracked into competitive Wavelength, with Chris and PJ taking on the rest of us. Chris' appalled disdain whenever PJ thought differently to him was a sight to behold.
They lost, 10-3, to the trio. But we enjoyed it so much we played again, this time co-operatively, and triumphed on the final card!
The night ended on a classic: 6Nimmt. This was a shitshow for most of us, but Paul emerged with head held reasonably high, and PJ took the plaudits: PJ 29 / Paul 37 / Stuart 60 / Sam 65 / Chris 92. Ninety-two!! That's one deathly death spiral.
* * *
After an oft-drizzly Saturday, Sunday dawned bright and true.
It was a great day for a walk, but although we all managed one, we didn't manage it together, trundling off in ones and twos to explore the locale and witness preparations at the village hall for some kind of tombola event/goat sacrifice. We did, however, cram in a few more games. There was Love Letter...
Which Chris both won and lost, playing tag-team with me (losing) and Stuart (winning). Paul and PJ also lost, but more sensibly, numerically-speaking. Then four of us (sans PJ) played Mission Red Planet, which I last encountered about eight or nine years ago, I think? Anyway it's a race to Mars, with steampunk astronauts boarding ships, launching them, occasionally sabotaging them and jostling for position on the planet (and it's moon) when they arrive.
Chris was best steampunk astronaut, with Stuart and I following behind and Paul - ruthlessly targeted by the rest of us - bringing up the rear. PJ then schooled Chris in the art of Kingdomino...
Before returning to find Chris had won High Society, with Paul going bust and Stuart having to calculate zero times two. We played again as a quintet, and I went bust this time. Paul triumphed, and Chris found himself with the same sums as Stuart previously.
Then it was time for the Final Big Game of the weekend, with PJ suggesting Railways of the World. It was new to Stuart and Paul, but the rules aren't overwhelming and before long we were laying track and getting ourselves into debt like we'd done it all our lives.
Even though it's a top ten game, I'd forgotten exactly how much I enjoy Railways: so simple, and yet so compelling, occasionally excruciating, in the paths it forces you to wander down. Chris bid high and took a demon first turn, careening up the score track. But PJ was getting in his way down south whilst Stuart and I contested the north-east.
I built a hotel in New York and struck west. Stuart completed the New York to Kansas route. Paul and PJ simply kept delivering cubes; down south and in the Indiana-Illinois area. Chris built the Western Link and immediately regretted it. Mid-game I surged ahead, and managed to keep myself there as Stuart, then Paul, pursued me to the death:
Sam 71
Paul 67
Stuart 60
Chris 53
PJ 49
Whew! That was another beast, so we had a pallet-cleanser in Heckmeck where Paul utterly destroyed us - except for Chris, who had gone off to cook risotto.
With risotto imminent, I introduced the others to the delights of Texas Showdown. I'm not sure Stuart found it as delightful as me: with a fistful of high cards he was doomed from the start. There was no time to continue though, as dinner arrived... and after that, Paul and Stuart had to go!!
What an awesome weekend!
But three of us still had a few hours of Sunday left. We filled them - first with the rocket rescuing of Cryo...
...won narrowly by Chris. Then the Lisbon-based tram-shunting of Lisbon Tram 28...
...won narrowly by Paul. Then, to finish, a games night classic: Take it Easy.
And that was that. A marvellous compendium of good games, good food, good times. If we came home a little exhausted from our alleged break, it was well worth it. Thank you chaps!
