PotCVIpouri

It's the fifteen hundredth post of the blog. I did consider doing something special to celebrate this milestone, but after 1,499 resolutely unspecial posts there didn't seem much point. Having said that, one post in particular seems to have caught someone's imagination. For the last couple of weeks this report from four years ago featuring nothing but photos of farm animals and, oh yes, some ladies tug-of-war has been getting a dozen or so views every day. There are some strange people out there.  

In common with the great majority of those previous editions, I have no wargaming related activity on which to report. The excuse this time is that the Casa Epictetus has been undergoing some roofing work. 

Colourful, but somehow still tasteful

I am very pleased, however, to be able to report that I have been to the opera, and indoors to boot. Opera North returned to live performance after more than a year with a special production of Fidelio, chosen because it is, of course, about freedom, and so would suitably mark the end of restrictions. 

Obviously they had more faith in the government than I did. Be that as it may, it was excellent. And if opera is back, can wargaming be far behind?

Wot, no cake!

So, we're having another bash at Sidi Rezegh. James claims that it's been four years since we last did it, but I think he means that it seems as if it takes four years every time that we do. If you read his blog you will see that he is very complimentary about Blitzkrieg Commander 4 (*); I shall go as far as to say that it is better than Blitzkrieg Commander 3. Part of my reluctance to say more is because, as I have admitted before, I don't know very much about the period (**). I would genuinely like to learn more, for example why, in the whole of the six weeks of Operation Crusader, there appears to have only been one battle.

I won't tell you in detail what happened - and nor will James because he didn't take any photos - but all you need to do is look back at previous reports of refights: the Germans made a futile infantry attack on the escarpment while waiting for their tanks to turn up. The Panzers will arrive next week and the accompanying 88mm gun will destroy all the British armour and that will be that. You read it here first, or perhaps you read it the last time we did it, or the time before that, or the time before.....

What was noteworthy was that I managed to activate one command five times in one turn which, for those who don't know the rules, is virtually impossible. On the other hand my opening artillery barrage achieved absolutely nothing and the untouched defenders suppressed everything they fired at, so luck was reasonably even.


*   Apart that is from all the bits with which he disagrees and has changed already.
** I mean in a wargaming sense obviously.

Sacre du Printemps

"I haven't understood a bar of music in my life, but I have felt it." - Igor Stravinsky

And so to the opera. I have been to see 'The Magic Flute', where thankfully the Queen of the Night's famous aria was sung beautifully. This was a new production by Opera North, which I enjoyed somewhat more than I had their previous one. All the performances were exceptional - I don't know whether it was deliberate or serendipity to cast an Irishman as Papageno, but I shall never now be able to think of him as anything else - and yet I still don't really like the opera. I have previous form in telling Mozart that he has got it all wrong and I'm going to do so again. None of it makes any sense. The masonic chaps are obviously meant to be the good guys, but they go round kidnapping and sexually molesting women and inflicting corporal punishment on each other. The Queen of the Night is meant to be the baddie, but doesn't do anything except sing and worry about her daughter, while her acolytes rescue the hero from the clutches of a monster that is about to kill him. It's most peculiar.

The plot of 'Katya Kabanova' at least makes sense, but is completely implausible whilst paradoxically at the same time being a bit too close to home for comfort. It also has an out of the ordinary operatic villain in the mother-in-law from hell, who was roundly booed at the curtain call. 

Unpleasant family members feature prominently as well in 'Gianni Scicchi'. I had seen two other productions of this in the last twelve months or so and perhaps that was why this particular one fell a bit flat. In addition there were some strange directorial decisions including the deceased - whose will is the cause of all the trouble - wandering about the stage, and climbing both walls and ropes from time to time despite being dead. 

Almost as confusing was an otherwise excellent concert staging of Marc-Antoine Charpentier's rarely performed Baroque work 'David et Jonathas'. That it wasn't acted out, together with the lack of surtitles and the fact that I have no French made it a bit of a struggle to follow what was happening. According to the programme the piece would originally have been intertwined act by act with a prose play in Latin that developed the characters and moved the plot along; maybe that would have helped, or maybe it wouldn't. What certainly wasn't of any assistance was my preconception that the Philistines were in the wrong. It seems that for this particular biblical story it's the Israelites who were being unreasonable; plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose. The role of Jonathan, presumably originally written for a castrato, was played by a soprano and so opera's fine tradition of the leading lady not making it to the end alive was maintained. 

Then there was the one that got away. Whilst there is nothing to compare with a fully staged opera supported by a large orchestra I also rather like watching works being performed in a more intimate environment. I therefore travelled across Leeds in the rush hour to see Opera UpClose perform 'La bohème' at the Theatre Royal Wakefield. I got there in plenty of time, bought myself coffee and cake in the pleasant little cafe and was just thinking to myself how civilised it all was when the lights went out. The power never came back on, the show was cancelled and I had to turn round and come home again. The cake was nice though.

Last, but not least, I have been to see 'The Rite of Spring'. Despite my carefully moulded image as a man of culture I have to confess that I had never previously seen a ballet; I therefore have absolutely nothing to compare this with. I can, however, report that I enjoyed it immensely. The music was loud and powerful (if one is to contrast it with his contemporaries it was less melodic than Puccini, less dissonant than Schoenberg; I was reminded of prog rock, but I'll bet that I was the only one) and there was lots of vigorous and entertaining leaping about on the stage. I had always wondered how the narrative was explained in ballet if there weren't any words. In this case that was rendered moot because there is no story: it is simply a series of pagan mating and fertility rites. It made me wistful for this blog's erstwhile female reader, who always rather liked that sort of thing.

The Toss O'Ecclefechan

Bye attour my Gutcher has
A heich house and a laich ane,
A' forbye my bonie sel,
The toss o' Ecclefechan. 

 

 - Robert Burns, "The Lass O'Ecclefechan"

Not one person has asked me about Ecclefechan, but obviously that won't stop me answering their questions. Although mostly associated with Thomas Carlyle - and I'd like to think that to all my readers he is a man who needs no introduction - the other notable resident of the graveyard is Archibald Arnott, one of the physicians who was attending Napoleon on St Helena when he died and possibly - but probably not - the man who took the former Emperor's death mask; at least not the one from which the copy was made that we've all seen in the Musée de l'Armée. 

Nothing to do with Ecclefechan

As luck would have it I have a friend who lives nearby, but when I asked her about the place her only reply was the enigmatic "Ecclefechan tarts are tasty". She didn't mention the blended whisky named after the village at all.

She forgot the Fechan whisky

The nine of clubs

"The challenge for Nine of Clubs♣ people is to let go with grace and gratitude... and not fall to the lower vibration of apathy or self-pity."

Last weekend saw Fiasco, the local wargames show here in Leeds, and the passout token for those putting on games was a playing card; the one they gave me was the nine of clubs: so challenge accepted. The show itself was good in the morning and dead in the afternoon. Our demo of Zorndorf went very much with the flow; I don't think we played a turn after lunch. Astonishingly I have seen some reviewers complain that the organisers gave space to a charity cake stall. Fortunately Epictetus is in such peak physical shape these days that he was able to indulge himself with a bun or two and I can report that they were rather good; I hope that they are back next year. Other purchases included yet more trees from the tree man plus what is possibly the worst set of rules that I have ever read.

I bought a second hand set of Mailed Fist Wargames group's WWI rules and the best thing I can find to say about them is that it was only £3 wasted, or three cakes worth if you will. I won't take up too much of your time with them, but perhaps the oddest bit is the lack of any rules at all for machine guns because "they [were] a little thin on the ground". The author does however include specific stats for the 420cm L/12, Type M-Gerät 14, better known as the 'Big Bertha', of which only twelve were ever made and whose minimum range is somewhat longer than my table. I am more and more minded to stop buying WWI rules and instead to write my own; I'm envisaging a glorious mash-up of every family of rules that I've ever played plus the added complexity which inevitably creeps in every time that I try to devise something for wargaming use. The one thing that is certain is that the scale of these wonderful - though as yet unwritten - rules will be 12-15 figures per company, which should allow me to play a game of a brigade a side. I have it in mind to name them after one of C.R.W. Nevinson's Great War paintings, perhaps 'A Dawn', which is just about to be sold for a shed load of money.

A game at that level requires a higher proportion of officers and support weapons than I had previously assumed. I have therefore scoured continental Europe for the out of production HaT German Heavy Weapons set and progress on painting has been brisk. October figures were:

Granatenwerfer	4
MG08/15	4
MG08	1
Flamethrower team	1
Minenwerfer	1
German bombers	4
German riflemen	10
British riflemen	7
British officers	12
Lewis guns	3

We're going to need a bigger boat

There wasn't much boardgaming in August, but September proved to be the first month in a yonk during which I played more games than in the same period last year. Here's a catch up:

7 Wonders: I remain no good whatsoever at this game. I do however continue to be a fan of its design, especially the fact that adding more players in (up to the maximum of seven obviously) doesn't add to the time taken.

Abluxxen: It's a baffling game for those new to it, but it's worth persevering with, because it's a nice filler.

Castle of Caladale: When I saw that this involved pattern matching I knew that it wouldn't end well. When I learned that players could constantly rearrange their tableau during the game it was obvious it would be really bad. And so it proved.

Mine did not look like this.

Codenames: I have nothing more to say about this. Even those gamers who claim they don't like it can't help getting sucked in when they think they see the answer to the clue.

Condottiere:I also have nothing more to say about this. If you don't own it, buy it.

Le Havre: The original game from which Harbour was developed as a slimline version. I think I prefer the latter, but only with our house rule scoring system.

Ice Flow:  I really like this game and whenever others are foolish enough to delegate the choice to me this is what they end up with. It's much deeper than it appears to be as the rules are being explained.

Junk Art: A sort of reverse Jenga, but with the components providing a range of different dexterity games, all well beyond your bloggist's capabilities. Good fun.

The King is Dead: I've now tried it with two players and it worked rather well. I am enjoying this, with no element of post-purchase dissonance having appeared yet.

Libertalia: Only the second time that I've played this pirate themed game, but I enjoyed it more than I remember doing the first time. We played with a full complement of six, which may have had something to do with it by increasing the opportunities for second guessing what everyone else will do.

Lords of Waterdeep: A really enjoyable worker placement game that, as I know I have mentioned before, can be played without ever giving any thought to the D&D type theme.

Neue Heimat: A couple of those with whom I played this hated it with a vengeance, which put a bit of a downer on the whole thing. Personally I wouldn't mind giving it another go now I've got my head round the possible strategies. The auction mechanism requires putting in at least some effort to anticipate other people's moves.

QuartermasterGeneral: 1914: Any game of QG is a rare treat. I think I prefer this to the original, but sadly don't play either enough to be absolutely sure.

Red7: A reliable filler.

Skull: Ditto, although I for one am a bit jaded with this at the moment.

Space Alert: A cooperative sci-fi programming game that did nothing to warm me to any of those genres. It made me want to have games of Grizzled and/or Colt Express instead.

Splendor: I like this enough to be seriously thinking of buying the expansion. It's an engaging, easily taught, game that makes you think without lasting too long.

Spyfall: It hasn't been on the table for many months and hasn't improved in the meantime. It does seem to have spawned a number of in jokes, so there is some upside.

Survive: Escape from Atlantis!: A most enjoyable 'take that' game which has to be played in a cutthroat manner. On this occasion I thought it was a piece of cake until my boats were all sunk by whales and my men were all eaten by sharks; c'est la vie.

Thebes: The part of the game in which one moves around Europe collecting archaeological expertise and equipment works very well. The bit where one excavates for treasure, and during which one scores, involve far too much luck. It is also possible to quite early on fall behind to such an extent that the remainder of the game becomes pointless. I do like the way the time track works though.

Progress Industry Humanity

The town in which I live is part of Leeds and for the most part that's where I go for entertainment and intellectual stimulation. However, I live on the border with Bradford and this weekend has seen me attend events celebrating two of its most distinguished sons.

On Saturday I made one of my infrequent returns to the University of Bradford, the place where I took my first degree, on this occasion for a talk on the time theories of J.B. Priestley. I won't attempt to reproduce what was discussed, which you would be correct in interpreting to mean that I didn't fully understand it. There were names bandied about that I'd never heard of (J.W. Dunne, Ouspensky), haven't read (Proust - shameful but true) or regard as complete charlatans (Myers and Briggs). Still, the main point at issue was that Priestley was a first rate writer, is unjustly overlooked and was ahead of his time. His influence can clearly be seen on novelists such as Borges and Burgess and on playwrights like Stoppard and Ayckbourn, and he was an early explorer of concepts later seen in works as diverse as E.T., Catch-22, Groundhog Day, Sliding Doors and The Purple Rose of Cairo to name just a few. The speakers recommended a range of works which apparently illustrate his interest in the possible circularity of time, but I have chosen to buy 'The 31st of June' on the basis that the panel said it was very funny. I shall report back. I also have to mention that I rather regret not having also been to the session before ours, which featured lots of brightly clothed Nigerians playing drums.

Today saw celebrations to mark the 80th birthday of David Hockney. The weather was nice, a big crowd turned up, there was a wide choice of food (I went for Tilapia and Jollof rice, perhaps still regretting missing out on the Nigerian drumming) and loud music; judging by the playlist DH is a fervent disco fan. There was even a large birthday cake representing his large work Le Plongeur, which is the cornerstone of the excellent new Hockney Gallery at Bradford's Cartwright Hall.

The other notable feature was a Hockneyfication Station where those with a more frivolous nature than your bloggist could be transformed into lookalikes of the great man.

With groans that thunder love

"Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?" 

- Sir Toby Belch, Twelfth Night

These days for Epictetus, I am sad to say, there are indeed neither cakes nor ale, but, on a happier note, virtue has by no means been the result. The events of the last month have not put a stop to theatre going, but they did put me out of mood for writing about it. It's time to catch up.

As you will have guessed I saw the National Theatre Live transmission of "Twelfth Night" and excellent it was. The currently fashionable cross gender casting (Malvolia and Feste) compounded nicely the cross dressing of the plot and the comedy and cruelty of the play were very well brought out. The director's aim seemed to be to highlight our common humanity regardless of gender, sexuality or race (Sebastian and Viola were played by black actors) which put me in mind of "A Doll's House" which I'd seen earlier in the month.

Ibsen has Torvald tell Nora that she is first and foremost a wife and mother, to which she replies that surely she is first and foremost a human being. One of the reasons for not posting about seeing this play before was that I seem to have been living the plot of it for the last few weeks; real life has had a different ending though. A piece which I have also seen and which most certainly bears no relation to my own circumstances is "Rita, Sue and Bob Too"; perish the thought. This was the original play on which the film was, in part, based. Amusing though the film (strap line "Thatcher's Britain with its knickers down") is, it was provided with a more upbeat ending and the play is darker and better. It also contained substantially more nudity. A real car was on stage for certain, shall we say, climactic scenes and from my seat in the circle it was a procession of bare arses and fannies. I must once again provide a translation for US readers and point out that in British English those two words are not synonyms.

The audience for Andrea Dunbar's play were mainly somewhat raucous (that is a euphemism) women on a night out and many of them looked as if they were interchangeable with the characters on the stage. The same was true for Kay Mellor's "A Passionate Woman", where a more normal bunch of theatre goers watched an amusing take on how a middle class woman lived a life of dreariness until reminded of the secret affair that had once brought love into her life, while her husband turned a blind eye to everything. These last three plays were all to an extent about unhappiness within marriage and, perhaps inevitably, it was the men in them that seemed to be to blame. No comment.

A loaf of bread...

...and thou beside me singing in the wilderness

Omar Khayyam (a) of course. Not the chap who liked the product so much that he bought the company, although I do hope they are related. I can't help thinking that Victor has appeared in this blog previously, so apologies for any repetition. The product that I currently like very much is the breadmaker. Obviously it is immensely inconvenient to use, costs far more than going to the excellent artisan baker five minutes from my house, and has required the acquisition of lots of additional equipment - flour storage, milk thermometer etc - but the bread is really good. I am slightly disappointed that the best results so far have come from ready prepared mixes rather than from my own efforts, but perhaps that's why Waitrose is the spiritual home of the breadmaker owner. 

Last night, following the purchase of yet more expensive ingredients, I set it up so as to have freshly baked bread available first thing this morning; the smell was as every bit as good as you would expect. There has been one other bonus out of all this. Coral Laroc - a name not mentioned here for a couple of years, but still very much around - has gone on a juice fast as a new year detox regime (b) and is permanently hungry. What better entertainment then but to make sure that by email and text she is kept fully informed of just how good my bread (and cakes and biscuits and indeed the sweet potato, chilli and spring onion rosti that I made on Monday) are and how wonderful they taste.

(a) When racking my brains for a quote with which to introduce a post about bread I did briefly consider W. B. Yeast, but nothing relevant sprang to mind.

(b) One reason for not mentioning her very often is that if I posted every time she went on a faddy diet there would be no room for anything else.

No one is alone

"Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh." - George Bernard Shaw

And so to the theatre. I have been to see the West Yorkshire Playhouse/Opera North joint production of Stephen Sondheim' 'Into the Woods'. The story - an intertwining and extension of several fairy tales - is structured around the quest of a baker to remove a curse. I am an fairly regular baker myself; being not only a lover of cakes and biscuits but also allergic to milk, I find it simpler to make my own. I have just made some rather fine Cranberry and Cardamom Cookies, perhaps a little heavy handed on the spice, but delicious nonetheless. My lengthy conversation with the lady who runs the local cookshop as to the best implements for extracting the cardamom seeds from the pods and then grinding them, left her even more convinced than ever that I am the gayest man in Otley.

I think that it was fair to say that I wasn't the gayest man in the theatre last night. I haven't seen so much outness and pride since Barry Humphries came to town on his farewell tour. The previous evening many of the same people would have taken part in the vigil held in solidarity with those affected by the appalling events in Orlando; hundreds attended as the LGBT area of Leeds in Lower Briggate was closed to traffic. But I always think that while there is a place for specific organised events in these circumstances, that ultimately the best response to those seeking to intimidate us is to carry on our normal daily lives as we always intended to do. And if that involves a love of musical theatre, then so be it.

Notwithstanding recently being made into a film by Disney, 'Into The Woods' is a serious and complex work with a number of themes running through it along with a rich vein of humour. On another occasion I might have pondered much on the focus on bad parenting, on which I consider myself something of a self-taught expert. But right now its important messages are surely these: accept who we are and other people for who they are, be careful of the consequences of going into the woods with no clear idea of where the path will take you (are you listening Blair and Bush?), and that it is only by standing together that we can defeat the giant. The show (which, be warned, is very long) comes in two parts: the fairy tale endings we all know and then what happens next. As Orson Welles said "If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story".

The production itself was glorious, with top notch singing and music courtesy of the chorus and orchestra of Opera North. The puppetry was a particular highlight, with the Giantess being genuinely frightening despite the mechanics behind it being clearly visible. The staging - making full use of the layout and technical capabilities of the WYP - was also noteworthy. The opening set was a primary school classroom and the characters' journeys into the woods were portrayed as the school trip from hell. Let's hope this isn't an omen for the big, bouncy woman next week.

Proverbs Chapter 19 Verse 21

"There are many devices in a man's heart; nevertheless the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand."

I do indeed have many devices, but it would appear that the counsel of the Lord is that the one most suited for writing blog posts should remain hors de combat for the time being at least. In the meantime there has been no wargaming anyway including no painting at all - for a variety of real life related reasons such as birthdays, exams and scorchio - although other activities have continued apace. Prepare yourselves for much cultural related reportage when technology allows. Indeed, prepare yourself for some wargaming related reportage as well because a Seven Years War campaign is scheduled for kick-off next week. The much delayed try of the latest C&C Napoleonics has been, well, delayed. In other printable news, I have made a rhubarb crumble loaf cake that is a triumph even if I say so myself, and also quite painfully burnt my arm. In other unprintable news, a good time has been had by all.

We ourselves must walk the path

So, what happened this year then? I should first apologise for the content of the blog, which was consistently neither relevant nor interesting. If it's any consolation, the comments that I have left on other people's blogs have generally been even worse; bloggers must wince when they see my username appear. All I can do is quote Rudyard Kipling: "You must learn to forgive a man when he's in love. He's always a nuisance."

Anyway, on to the much sought after Epictetus annual awards:

• Opera of the year:  'The Flying Dutchman' with an honourable mention for  'Tales of Hoffman'
• Theatre of the year: 'Beryl' with an honourable mention for 'The History Boys'.
• Gig of the year: I've seen an awful lot of excellent gigs, but it's a toss up between  Nils Lofgren and Tom Russell with an honourable mention for Gigspanner (which good as it was I don't seem to have posted about before), plus of course the Ilkley Blues Festival for sheer value for money.
• Film of the year: 'Lunchbox' with a dishonourable mention for 'Spectre'; once again I haven't actually been to see that many films.
• Book of the year: City of Wisdom and Blood, the second in the Fortune of War series by Robert Merle, the first volume of which was my book of the year for 2014. There's a pattern developing.
• Wargame of the year: There's been a lot of Seven Years War this year and I'm going to go for the large game in the summer where James got all his Prussians and Russians out on the table.
• Boardgame of the year: Quartermaster General, no doubt at all, but there have been a lot of very good ones among the 265 plays of 134 different games that I've managed this year.
• Cake of the year: I think pear and chocolate although the elder Miss Epictetus is a firm champion of the spiced fruit loaf.
• Event of the year: I'm tempted to cheat and choose every time that the big, bouncy woman came and sat on my lap; or possibly the Otley Wool Fair (I really enjoyed that day); or perhaps a truly memorable afternoon in the Victoria Hotel (definitely my pub of the year). However, instead I'm opting for a walk up to Top Withens that I took at the end of August, during which we got wet, the past was laid to rest and the future mapped out. As Christina Rossetti wrote in the poem of the year:

I loved you first: but afterwards your love 

Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song

St James Infirmary Blues

I saw Gypsy Bill (perhaps inevitably, he isn't actually a Gypsy, but he passes for a bit of a hippie because he lives on a boat and has a pretty magnificent beard) playing in the pub the other night and he did a cracking version of St James Infirmary Blues. My companion for the evening professed not to know the song, so when we retired to the Casa Epictetus I played her several versions back to back, ranging from Louis Armstrong, surely the best known, through the very uptempo take by Tom Jones to the funereal effort of Georgie Fame. This quickly caused her to disappear off home; although not until after she had been very complimentary about the Pear & Chocolate cake. One of the performers that she missed out on because of her hasty exit was Sir Van the Man:

From Rameses II to Henry V

 I don't know if anyone else ever takes any MOOCs. I've got into the habit of watching a video or two while I'm having a cup of coffee and a slice of home-made cake (this week's is Pear & Chocolate Loaf and is rather good, even if I say so myself; if you follow the recipe add a heaped teaspoonful of baking powder) and am finding them all very interesting. Obviously as a wargamer what one really needs is constant temptation to start up yet another period and MOOCs provide a steady stream of possibilities to be enthused over and then discarded when something better comes along. For example, I've just completed a short course on the ancient Near East which included much material on Kadesh plus the fighting techniques of the combatants. I hope that my willpower is strong enough to resist the lure of the massed chariots of Rameses II, but the best way to ensure that is so is by quickly moving on. It being October 2015 then where better to go next than Agincourt, and so I'm going to be taking a look here at a brief course being led by Professor Ann Curry to mark the 600th anniversary.

WWII in 45 Minutes

This blog is about nothing if it's not about cooking, and so I am proud to present your bloggist's lemon and courgette cake.

However, the blog is also about nothing if it's not about listing boardgames that I have played and in which no one else is interested. So here goes for July:

7 Wonders: I like this, especially the fact that it's scalable without slowing things down, but I don't play it often enough to be any good at it.

Abyss: The pasted on theme has something to do with mythical beings living under the sea. It was OK, but of games of this type I'd rather play Elysium.

Chinatown: An area control game involving an auction, a sort of bingo mechanic and inter-player trading. It left me a bit cold.

Dark Moon: A much more sophisticated version of The Resistance, minus the keeping your eyes closed bit. We played with seven and it was good fun. That is the second game was fun, because the bad guys won the first one in about five minutes. I especially liked the opting in and out of each task depending on one's view of who else was going to do what. That's not the clearest of descriptions, but I suggest that you play it find out what I mean.

Francis Drake: Didn't have much to do with Drake specifically, but was about piracy, trading and biffing the Spanish so one can see their point. I was dubious about the two stage turn process when we started, but it grew on me. The chap who didn't seem to understand the rules won fairly easily, which may or may not prove something.

Good Cop Bad Cop: Another hidden identity game, with the added complexity that one's identity can change due to circumstances outside one's control leaving one losing to the strategy that one had oneself devised the moment before. A bit random, but one does get to shoot people with guns, which - as I think I mentioned last month - aren't real.

Hanabi: We played with a neophyte who, understandably enough, almost imploded with the responsibility of remembering what someone had told him thirty seconds before. We still managed to score seventeen.

Machi Koro: A real estate themed engine builder game. I really enjoyed it despite falling so far behind after a couple of turns that I had no realistic chance of getting anywhere. Only time will tell whether this was just my incompetence or a major design flaw that no one else has spotted.

New Salem: No, no, no, no, no! A hidden identity game that goes immediately onto my list of games that have nothing whatever to do with the theme or title.

Pentago: A sort of sexed up Connect Four. I suck the big one at spatial awareness games.

Pillars of the Earth: Cathedral building worker placement game. I liked it when I played it before and enjoyed it second time around. It's accounting, so I won.

Quartermaster General: After a bit of a gap, I played this three times in July and I find it still to be an absolutely cracking game. With experienced players one can, if the cards fall right, play through the second world war in forty five minutes and enjoy oneself enormously in the process. Every game works out differently; indeed in the last one I played the Italians largely won the thing single handed, capturing both the UK and India along the way. They were helped by an odd allied strategy which saw the UK and US abandon Europe and Russia in order to gang up on - and not defeat - Japan. I can't recommend this enough.

Spyfall: A hidden location game by way of a change. It turns out that I also suck the big one at games requiring creativity under time pressure.

Tinners' Trail: A strongly themed game about Cornish tin mining which I really enjoyed and would happily play again. The concept of the water ingress is very good and I liked the fact that there is never enough money to invest. It's accounting, so I won.

Pot17pouri

This week’s walking with the yummies (actually a rather different subset of them) took us along the Wharfe to Addingham (where we had a very civilised stop for tea and cake in aid of an African charity; all walks should have something similar organised) and then across and back on the north side of the river, past the Stations of the Cross at Middleton and then through the woods and back down into Ilkley for lunch. The lunchtime conversation was thankfully less solipsistic than the previous week.

 

The White Swan on Sunday saw half a dozen turn out and run through games of Tsouro, Citadels and Ice Flow. Even I am always surprised by just how enjoyable Ice Flow is and this game proved no exception. Rather unusually a number of polar bears appeared together in a row on flows close to the northern coast of Alaska and it was a long time before four or five of the explorers managed to leave land at all. Also unusually I didn’t win.

It would appear that my reader from the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg (pictured above) has reappeared. To him I say “Svo er hægt að lesa á íslensku þá getur þú? “.

Il Gattopardo - not!

And so to the theatre. The National Theatre production of Alan Bennett’s latest play is on at the Grand in Leeds. Now, as you may or may not be aware, there are some other wargames blogs which would like you to believe – for some no doubt nefarious end of their own – that Mr Bennett is no longer with us, that he has ceased to be, that he has shuffled of this mortal coil. Happily this is not the case and he continues to amuse us. He is furthermore, and certainly since the demise and disgrace of the other chap that we don’t mention any more, Leeds’ most famous son and the theatre was suitably packed.

"I write plays about things that I can't resolve in my mind"

The large audience was rewarded with some fine acting and a lot of laughs. Whether there was any deeper message is more debatable. The main character spent so long proclaiming that her story wasn’t a metaphor for the state in which England (sic) finds itself that one must surely assume that in fact that’s exactly what it was supposed to be. However, personally I don’t have either empathy or sympathy with the rich fallen on hard times so it all rather passed me by. The author scored points at the expense of relatively easy targets such as Thatcher, the National Trust, oligarchs, but I can’t have been the only one to be uncomfortable with his benign view of pornography; those scenes were however rather funny and very well staged.

The National Trust is a Nazi trust, smash the National Trust

 So, an entertaining night out, but not – for me anyway - a classic. For a genuine classic on a similar theme try reading Lampedusa’s ‘The Leopard’; “Si queremos que todo siga como está, es preciso que todo cambie”, which I think is probably the point that Bennett is trying to make..