We didn’t finish the game, playing only two rounds, so we never found out the overall loser but, for the record, I lost round one and Sam lost the second.
Sunday, 22 February 2026
You are Dewan for me
We didn’t finish the game, playing only two rounds, so we never found out the overall loser but, for the record, I lost round one and Sam lost the second.
Wednesday, 11 February 2026
Bridge of Sighs
Anja and Steve's was the venue last night, as the rain returned to Bristol once more and I picked up Ian and Martin en route. We arrived to find Anja and Louie and also Ross, who I briefly thought was a newbie only to discover he was there to plumb, as our hosts had been without water for two days already. Fortunately, Ross was to prove successful at plumbing in short order - I was getting nervous about the possibility of bathroom trips being eliminated - though he chose not to join us for the evening's entertainment, but instead go home. By this time, we'd already failed twice at YUBIBO.
It's very much a game that requires a certain type of investment. As Pete pointed out, it's as much about endurance as dexterity, as keeping your hand in a certain position for x amount of time whilst various sticks lean on it isn't a Tuesday night staple. But it was fun.
Martin remained a little indifferent to the game, but I really like it. Although I also like his suggestion that the mayor choose the locations as well. Let's try that next time.
I think Andrew has previously explained the rules so I won't regurgitate them here, but I really enjoyed this. Thematically it's entirely nonsensical - everyone builds their own bridge and bids for buildings - but it's speedy and interactive and different strategic approaches are available. Anja began her bridge with a bucolic park, and focused early energies on the chapel track, which determines the very common tie-breakers. All of us - except Pete I think, who was less wasteful - pushed previously-built buildings into the Thames to replace them with others, and Steve was most effective on the pink track, the name of which now escapes me.
Anja pulled a fast one on Steve in the final round, giving the post its title. But it was Pete - the only player to complete their bridge - who was to triumph, as his sprint up the chapel track, highest-bidding cards and collection of cash saw him dwarf our efforts.
I also heard Joe bemoaning his filthy luck, as various Disaster tiles emerged, turning his potential haul into a bag of Egyptian dog turds before his very eyes. Ian grabbed a snap of this horrifying ordeal for posterity.
Wednesday, 4 February 2026
No balls on balls
There were six of us at my (Sam's) house last night, and we played a medley of new and (somewhat) old, with chief purchase culprits Martin, Joe and myself all introducing new titles. I sinned first, as Martin was first to arrive and I proposed we play Link City whilst we were waiting, as the others could chip in as they joined us.
This is a co-operative venture not a million miles from So Clover, but rather than looking for word connections on a leaf, we're building a city from tiles. One player takes a turn being the mayor, who secretly assigns the three new tiles to the three locations chosen by the deputy mayor (ie player on the mayor's left), which are represented by the road cones. Then all the non-mayor players try to figure out what the mayor would have chosen. Public toilets next to the train station or the park? Consulate next to the bank? As the others arrived - Joe, Katy, Ian and Adam H - everyone took a turn.
But despite triggering the bonus cone with our all-answers-correct early on, we serially failed to agree on the best-laid town plans. Correct guesses are placed where 'planned' whereas wrongly-guessed tiles still get placed, but in non-scoring locations: those with no orthogonal adjacency. In theory you can rescue the situation with subsequent turns, but we never looked in danger of doing so. After Adam pronounced the town population 'idiots' - we got all his wrong - Link City ended with us on 14 points, 6 below the cut-off for 'funky town' and well into the zone of disdain.
We flirted with the idea of splitting into threes but then Joe coquettishly showed us YUBIBO, a co-op game that played six, and we felt why not, especially when we saw the sticks and balls in the box.
In this game, each player has a colour and on your turn you flip a card which tells you which other player you're going to combine with to hold a stick - and using which finger. Players can only use one hand for the stick work, and the game swiftly escalates from curious to madcap.
It's a tricky game to get action snaps of, but fortunately Little Joe (-now taller than me) was on hand to help out in the paparazzi department.
The goal is to get all the sticks airborne at the same time, a task to which we did not seem suited, collapsing at first six and then eight (I think) before we pivoted to the 'balls' version of the game, where instead of adding a stick, you can place a ball into the structure. Balls can't touch fingers or other balls!
Unfortunately we discovered this morning that each pair of sticks can only support a maximum of one ball, so our triumph evaporated overnight. Meantime though there were other triumphs to be claimed: Martin began teaching Joe and Katy his new game, the trick-taker Dr Science, and I ran through the rules of TwinStar Valley with Ian and Adam.
Both took about an hour, but other than some audible scorn at the other end of the table I missed the empirical parameters of Dr Science as I was focused on the grave ramifications of fruit delivery in fictional future Norway.
As with Railways of the World, we're building a shared network where players can use each other's routes at a cost. Unlike Railways, the destinations themselves - the markets - are also owned, but each one specialises in two kinds of fruit: deliver that kind there and you pay the owner a coin for each one. Deliver anything else and it costs you nothing, but the fruit must be sold instantly, rather than kept back for a later transaction - prices are constantly fluctuating depending on what is sold.
The actions you take are on a separate board, bringing a slightly puzzly euro-flavour to it all, as players can and do get in each other's way on this board. We found it interesting and pretty fast-moving, with the caveat that as newbies we seemed to hit clutch points where someone was forced to grow (add fruit to the board) only for the next in line to instantly deliver it. Maybe it's all about those early routes.
Sam 34
Adam 29
I decided fairly early that I wasn't going to focus on bonuses but instead try and get lots of visible roofs. Then I noticed Adam was in contention for bonuses and had more roofs than me. Meantime Ian put his energies into the bonuses, and ended up with a whopping 19 points for them. It was enough for another victory:
Adam 49
Sam 45
Then in the second, we made an incremental improvement, scoring 32/36 instead. I liked Joe's bar for chocolate/weather, and Katy's initiative to invent a word (automusic) for violin/robot.
New to Ian, but it's not heavy on rules so we brought him in on Chapter 2 and kicked things off with a convincing win. The next clock - there are several - was rather more tricky, and took us several attempts. Then with clock number three we made surprisingly short work of it, ending the night with a collective victory. The rain from earlier was now thankfully gone, and shortly so too were the gamers. Fun night.
Sunday, 1 February 2026
... of course
We spent some time trying to understand when it is permissible to play a purple 5 and then we began the game. Then, after round one, Joe looked at the rules book again and noticed something in tiny writing, explaining that players can’t play more than one purple 5 cards in a trick “of course.” And it was the “of course” thing that really bothered us, as we tried to work out what part of the game set-up would suggest that particular rule. “I’m being gaslit by a rule book,” complained Joe.
There are a bunch of rules that tweak the typical trick-taking procedures for those who don’t win a trick. I usually “caught a wave” allowing me to boost a future card by 2 or more points. Martin often took a point and nominated the next person to begin a hand, and invariably chose Katy. It didn’t seem to help.
Wednesday, 21 January 2026
Nutritious Scarecrow
This is a weird party game where playing co-operatively (there's also a competitive variant) one player is trying to successfully clue the others to one of six possible words on a card. The catch is that the clueing is bizarrely restrained to a series of spectrums - sort of - where the extremes are completely unrelated attributes. Is a scarecrow more unbreakable than it is nutritious? Is a career more legal than it is daytime? Ian, Joe and Martin all took turns clueing as Anja joined us for the finale. We had mixed success, succeeding with maximum points only once but avoiding the ignominy of placing the right guess in the worst place.
Steve was briefly glimpsed but still focused on settling Lennon, so whilst Louie and Arthur began building a den we split into groups of three and four. Adam wanted a Cascadero rematch and so Ian, Martin and I joined him for that. At the other end of the table, Joe talked Anja and Pete through Sunrise Lane, and the mini-Kniziathon was underway.
Cascadero had a cagey start - nobody wanted to be the first to offer up points to someone else, so the envoys were largely eyeing the towns from a safe distance. Then when things kicked into gear it transpired we were talking different strategic approaches. Adam was harvesting seals as much as he could, working towards not only that three-point bonus but a late-game salvo that would catapult him up the track. Ian and I were probably more tactically-minded, trying to nab opportunities as they arose. Martin didn't pick up a single seal all game, but we naively let him generate a lot of farming income, and he built a huge early lead.
Sunrise Lane ended around the same moment as Lennon's bedtime, with Joe taking the win:
Anja 94
Pete 90
And with bedtime also, which Steve appeared. As we were still mulling, occasionally to excess, in Cascadero, they began playing Indigo, a game I've never played but thought it looked a bit like Tsuro. "It's Knizia does Tsuro" Steve confirmed later.
Or in this case, Anja does Tsuro:
Steve 8
Pete 7
Joe 3
As Ian and I went from taking a pasting by Martin in one game to taking a pasting by Martin in another: this time, Gazebo. We tried a new board, with 'raised patios', the specifics of which are interesting when you play but too boring to list here.
As with Cascadero, Martin had a strongish lead mid-game, we caught him near the end before he surged again. I had an outside chance of pipping him to the post with my last turn, if by some wild chance he had no blue on his dominoes. But he did, and instead of a triumphant victory I shunted myself from second to third. Fucking gazebos.
Now what? We shuffled seats with Martin Joe and Pete teaching Anja Gang of Dice and Ian, Steve and I playing Misfits. Here are the three hand positions of the former, illustrated by Anja (whut) Martin (er) and Joe (hah).
There was to be much drama in both games. At our end of the table both Steve and I made it to our last piece more than once, only to have things collapse on us. Ian at one stage seemed to have All The Pieces, and we confected something so top-heavy that the Gang paused their Dice to watch in wonder.
Misfits finished at the same time, after an epic of wild swings and roundabouts. In the end it was Steve who took the win, after Ian and I both knocked things over one too many times.