Games Without Frontiers (Melbourne Edition)
For G., the board game enthusiast
I’ve woken up to a grey-green, drizzly day, which promptly reminds me of my last morning in Melbourne, over a month ago. It was just this kind of day, with a steady rain beginning to form puddles near the tram stop and on street corners, while I finished my last errands before taking a cab to the airport. The receptionist asked me when I was leaving for the airport and was relieved to know that I was giving myself a good few hours; the rain was already causing traffic snarls.
There was no time to waste. I grabbed my umbrella and crossed the road to the post office, which resembled a stationery. That Christmas was approaching was evident on the bright shelves, as everywhere else in the city. I got in line, hoping there would be no hiccups. This was my last chance to send these postcards. An earlier attempt had failed because the queue at the city post office was too long, after which my postcards received a thorough soaking from a berry smoothie and a malfunctioning water bottle (on different occasions, too), which meant that I had to procure fresh postcards and write out everything again.
The man at the counter pulled out Christmas-themed stamps for my postcards and offered to post them for me as I couldn’t figure out where the post box was; but he also absentmindedly returned one of the cards to me, and when I pointed this out, apologised profusely. It was a Monday morning, and not everyone thinks of rain as a charming addition to their daily lives, so I was quite prepared to overlook this little confusion. He did have me wondering if he’d remember to put my postcards in the post box, though. I’m glad to report that all of them reached their respective recipients safely.
I crossed the street for my next important errand — picking up Tim Tam for G. Not realising that this was classified as biscuit and not as chocolate, I’d somehow assumed that the supermarkets I went into didn’t have it. This was ridiculous of me, for I could’ve simply asked, but no — I had to find Tim Tam all by myself, which I did. I had to limit my purchase because my bags were already packed to bursting, and this was because of a serendipitous encounter with a board game store the previous evening.
Wanting to take one last peep at Melbourne city that evening, I got on the tram to the Central Business District. Three people boarded a couple of stops before the one I was supposed to get off at, deep in a conversation about board games. For context, I must pause here to tell you that G. has taken to board games in a big way in the past couple of years. It started with nostalgic games of Business (the Indian version of Monopoly), but evolved into a much bigger interest, which means that G. now watches more board game explainer videos than cricket analysis. This new development has also meant that I play at least one game with him every weekend, and inadvertently lapse into board game references. If he uses phrases that you haven’t heard in common use, you can safely connect it with board game parlance.
Back to the tram — the three people were talking about a board game with a climate change theme, which a friend of theirs was developing. I waited and behaved well; but then I had to confess to eavesdropping and tell them about G., because I don’t run into serious board game players often. One of the women told me about her son’s interest in board games, and asked me about the kind of games G. plays. The parlance came into use here and I was able to feel intellectual for a brief amount of time; she also predicted rightly that I must be pulled into playing games often.
Fresh from this encounter, as I loitered amidst the shops, I stopped suddenly for no valid reason — and turning, found myself bang in front of a board game store. I walked in and found myself surrounded by walls of game boxes; I tell you this truly, I was as excited as I usually am in bookshops. I was making my way through G.’s interests, one by one. A couple of days ago I had toured the Melbourne Cricket Ground; now, I stood in a shop full of the board games G. talked of, actually recognising their names and those of designers and publishers. I saw Everdell, Splendor, Scythe, and Carcassonne — games that he played on Steam but of which he had never seen the original physical versions. I tried to reach G. frantically and unable to do so, called my parents, who wondered from my tone if everything was alright.
G. and I were finally connected, and spent the most delicious quarter of an hour across seas trying to figure out what game I should bring him. It had to be something he couldn’t source easily in India (and preferably cheaper when bought in Australia), not too large to carry, and reasonably good for two players with a strong solo version. G. has a carefully curated wishlist, so this wasn’t a difficult task, but we were a bit spoilt for choice. The people at the counter were helpful, if also a bit amused at my long, starry-eyed consultation with G. I picked up Hadrian’s Wall, which now occupies a cosy spot in the games cupboard beside other Garphill Games.
I had one more stop to make before I returned to the hard question of packing: I hadn’t seen St Kilda Beach yet. I lugged my heavy shopping on the tram all the way to the beach, hoping to find a bench by the sea to rest my weary bones. But I had underestimated the bite of the cold wind, which sent me scrambling back to my hotel after a quick conversation with the sea and a hasty look at the skyline. The pier reminded me a little of my year at Brighton, but this was not the right weather for memories of ice cream eaten stealthily on the sunny shingle beach, trying to keep seagulls at bay.
As you can see, I was left with no time or room for Tim Tam. I came home with two packs of it, tucked into edges left behind by more precious cargo, which was swaddled in the softest clothes I had. And now, the Tim Tam is all gone, but Hadrian’s Wall stands proud, ready to be experienced.
P.S. We’ve ended this evening with a game of Heat, where I finally secured my first win in four attempts. The red car has done me proud after having spun out in the first lap in the last race. Forza Ferrari!
