Board games

It's winter again, time to put on the heating, and cosy up inside spending long drawn out afternoons playing board games. I am undecided whether board games are actually really 'fun'. Nevertheless recently I have had a new found enthusiasm for them. I have a slight competitive streak for which I blame my family. I tend to take playing board games seriously, and suffer from liking them best when I win. After one incident at University all my friends vowed never to play me at Monopoly ever again.

Here are some new board games I recently tried:

War on Terror' the board game

The aim is to build the most powerful empire. You earn income from oil, declare war on your neighbours, train terrorist units, and use nuclear weapons. If the axis of evil is spun and lands on your colour you have to wear a 'balaclava of evil'. We played for a about 5 hours. I highly recommend this game, but as the game warns 'it will bring out the nastiest, greediest, darkest , most paranoid aspects of your character.' I formed an alliance for most of the game with L, but ended up turning on her, due to a mixture of distrust and desire to take over her countries. I genuinely think I learnt something about the paranoia that has led to the terrorism and dictators.

221b Baker Street- the board game:

This is a version of Cluedo, except more confusing, and with a big booklet of clues. At the beginning you select a card from the pack which contains the lengthy details of the case to be solved. Everyone then has to go around different rooms, collecting clues until someone solves the case. It took a while to get the hang of, and having played one game and got the hang of it everyone had to leave, but next time it will be better. It also only cost me £2.50 from a charity shop, and was about 25 years old and had never been played.


Summary:

You could argue that board games are in fact the antithesis of the unstructured, fun, outdoorsy thing that this blog is designed to be about with all their strict rules. But I think they are also a good form of 'playtime for grownups'. Suggestions of good board games to try are very welcome.

Cycling

A bicycle I once hired to cycle round Cumbrae

There are many valid reasons to go cycling. For example from the top of my head:

1. It can be a good way to get from A to B
2. It can be good exercise
3. You could become the next Chris Hoy.
4. You might already be Chris Hoy

But I don't want to discuss cycling for those reasons. I want to discussing cycling for fun, or as "playtime". Cycling for fun is one example of an activity which I have enjoyed more as an adult than as a child.

As a child I lived near one of many old railway lines in Edinburgh that now make excellent cycle tracks. I went on outings with my dad and siblings, and strongly remember feeling a great sense of accomplishment on reaching Haymarket train station at the "end" of the cycle path. However there were limits -  I was never allowed to go too far on my own, and I was scared of the cars on the busy roads nearby anyway. Most of the time I spent as a child on my bicycle was spent going up two short streets. Now I can go further and have no parent telling me what to do (although my mother's voice saying 'be careful' is still ingrained in my psyche, and I am afraid of double decker buses)

These days I sometimes use my bicycle to get from A to B. I also feel a sense of self satisfaction after a bike ride for having done exercise. However the main reason I like cycling is the feeling of being outside, and freedom, especially when I can coast along without pedaling, admiring the scenery.


Some recommended cycle routes:

The Union Canal

• From Haymarket along the Silverknowes Esplanade to Cramond and back through Barton and Blackhall.

The best part of this is cycling along the sea front. Be warned that you have to dismount and carry your bike up and down some steps along the path in Cramond.

• Along the Water of Leith

This runs from Leith to Balerno. It is a bit muddy so less suitable for road bikes, but I find it extra fun when you have to splash through the mud.

• Along the Union Canal

The Union Canal starts in Fountainbridge, and you can cycle along to Ratho and further to Falkirk, and eventually Glasgow if you keep going. It has the advantage of being flat. Watch out for oblivious children, dogs and cyclists going too fast through blind tunnels. Bicycle bell highly recommended.

For more information on cycling in Edinburgh please see the following links:

Spokes- The Lothian Cycle Campaign  - produce really good cycle maps (at a price)

Edinburgh City Council: Explore Edinburgh by Bike Leaflets - these are also useful maps that show cycle routes

The Bike Station Innertube Map - these people have made a tube map of Edinburgh.

CycleStreets Journey planner - you can type in your starting point and destination point and this will suggest the best cycling routes (although it is still in beta mode and I have noticed it doesn't know everything!)

CityCycling Edinburgh - this is a forum used by lots of  local people obsessed by cycling so a good place to ask questions

Further afield: Joue-ing in rural France

-Translated from the original French

Although this particular contributor has been on a brief hiatus from posting (an absence for which I must apologise profusely), I am returning from dormancy bearing the fruits of my numerous labours and exceptional research carried out on the continent.  By which I mean: I have been living in France.  Let me tell you about it.

Let us leave aside the hows and whys of my sojourns in the land of wine and cheese, and skip straight to the relevant bits.  I have discovered that in the French countryside there exists a plethora of opportunities for playtime, many of which differ wildly from the sorts of diversions that we urbanites have now become accustomed to (see our Playpark map, for example).  And while most activities are dependent on the rural landscape for their essential functioning components, the reader would do well to bear in mind that it is, above all, a spirited imagination which brings such adventures to fruition, regardless of locale.  

My observations commenced in the sunny south, in the foothills of the Pyrenees.  I would also like to take this moment to preface my account with a brief note on the accompanying photographs: there aren’t any.  My camera is broken and I very much doubt it would have occurred to me to take photos anyway.  Please kindly make do with the primitive illustrations I have so generously furnished you with.

Part un: the south.  

So, the south.  When it is hot in the south (or anywhere, really) adults find all manner of dull ways to avoid the heat.  Sitting inside somewhere is by far the most common, often accompanied by drinking copious amounts of n’importe quoi.  As I was blessed to be in the company of several other highly spirited young people with inclinations towards the outdoors, I was happily able to avoid this pitfall.  We decided the best thing was to head for a really high place that we could fling ourselves off of, ideally into the water.  This place exists in the form of les vasques, a series of three deep, cold water holes situated on river cascades that make for a fine jumping ground.  As soon as we could render our bodies suitably numb, off we went, climbing up the waterfalls and inching towards the edge until – hop! – off we went.  PLOOSH!   

pondering the void

The more daring among us opted to try somersaults, whilst the more antagonistic (cough cough) decided to heckle a bit and loudly hum the theme from ‘Jaws.’  Afterwards we decamped to the river below and spent some quality time building dams out of river stones and sending little leaf-and-stick boats into the eddying currents.  

On other occasions in the south we found it wise to escape heat or boredom by climbing trees in the cool forest.  A side note: this is also how I learned a lot of useful vocabulary such as ‘monkey,’ ‘squirrel,’ and ‘look out!’  Although tree climbing was not a frequent occurrence, it proved an excellent way to enjoy the mountain views and catch a bit of breeze (please refer to fig. 2, below).

what a person in a tree might look like

Part deux: the north.  

What do adults in the northern countryside do when they fancy a bit of playtime of an afternoon?   The answer of course is hay bales.  Once again in the company of like-minded miscreants, I stumbled across a free source of entertainment that is as limitless as those blonde blobs of straw dotted across the landscape.  Just what does one do with a field full of hay bales?  Well, I suppose you could spend some time looking at them.  If you’re Monet you could paint them – at sunrise, during the afternoon, when the clouds get fluffier, when they dissipate, and again in the dusk, and once again the next morning when the light looks slightly more pinkish… but I digress.  Absolutely the best thing to do with round hay bales is to jump on top of them and attempt to walk or run while your friends roll it from below.  It’s trickier than it looks and you fall a lot.  

please note: doodle is not to scale

It’s even better when there are two of you up there, each one trying to stay on the longest.  Once we twigged that this was hilarious to watch and even better to do yourself, we tried every style – forwards, backwards, down a bit of a hill (difficult), slow, fast, in between – well, admittedly there are limits to this game but it was certainly never dull, especially when people went thudding to the ground and landed in an ungainly heap.

What can we glean from all this exhaustive research into the playtime habits of rural types?  Not much at the moment.  In fact, if there’s any type of analysis to be done or quantitative data to consult, I really can’t be bothered.  I’ve got wine to drink, more cakes than I’ve seen in my life, and a lot of stuff to explore.  A bientot…

Contributions welcome

Over a month since the last (not particularly inspired post)! This blog has fallen into a slumber. Why is this? Lilliputian is away enjoying adventures further afield. Also I think we have all just been busy with other things. Adult things like working so we can pay rent and so on, and many other frivolous things, which don't translate into this blog. 

And the weather hasn't helped.

Therefore I thought I would post to say that contributions are welcome. If anyone has any thoughts on our topics, or has recently taken part in an event that fits into the spirit of our blog please get in touch.

We started this blog as "Edinburgh Playparks for Adults", with the intention of writing about our experiences of exploring playparks. We have since renamed the blog "Edinburgh Playtime for Grownups" because we didn't want the blog to be just about playparks, but other fun outdoor things for adults to do, such as play hide and seek, or go on treasure hunts. Also I personally found that playparks aren't really much fun, and tend to be occupied. Please see the about us page.

We are getting a regular trickle of hits to this blog, the biggest traffic source is people searching for the words "old swingers". I doubt they are finding what they are looking for, and it somewhat amuses me they end up here.

Row, row, row your boat

Over the last couple of weeks we went on a brilliant treasure hunt designed by our friend G, and hired a rowing boat and went rowing along the Union Canal. Sadly for this blog our attempts to update the blog have been a little lacklustre.

The day we went rowing we met in Harrison Park with the declared  intention of playing rounders, but we omitted to bring any sort of whacking device with us. So after a bit of lazing about in the sun, we  hired a rowing boat and lazed about on the boat (apart from Andrew who did most of the rowing of the boat)

The sun shone, and I concluded there is no better way to spend an afternoon, except maybe with a cold beer on board, or champagne, with strawberries and cream.

The treasure hunt will get its own very much deserved post one day. I promise.

Scandinavian moon craters, whales, and sunken ships.

One of the disappointments of playparks in Edinburgh is how similar they sometimes are. I was excited recently when I discovered the existence of a Danish company called Monstrum. Their designs of playparks include ships sunk into the grounds, whales you can crawl into, giant spiders...

I recommend looking at all the pretty pictures on their website (visiting might be fun too- if anyone has been please let me know)

 "Why only play on a monkey frame and a sandbox, when you can play in a moon crater or a submarine or a giant spider or an enormous snail or a Trojans horse or a rocket or an ant or a princess castle?" - Monstrum

I hope something like this comes to Edinburgh soon.

Let's cycle to the beach at Portobello and play frisbee: top tips

Until a few weeks ago, it was at least a year since I had been to the beach. Considering that I gaze out of my office window everyday and see the Forth behind Arthur's Seat, and that I am rarely ever more than 6 miles away from the sea, this is a long time. 


Despite being a native Edinburger, until a couple of weeks ago I had never been to Portobello. I have now been to Portobello twice. 


The first time was one Saturday after my friend B suggested we cycle there. Arriving on a sunny day I was instantly reminded of exactly why visiting the beach and seeing the sea can be exhilarating. Unfortunately I lack adequate poetic ability to properly capture the reasons in words.We didn't hang around long that day, as Lilliputian had organised a pinata smashing party we needed to get to (which it turned out was to be followed by rearranging her living room into a fort), so we resolved we should go back in two weeks time and play frisbee. 

Here are my tips for "cycling to Portobello and playing frisbee".

1. Don't leave your bike outside in the rain for 2 days beforehand

When I left work on Thursday it was bucketing down with rain so I did what any sensible person would do and abandoned my bike at work in favour of a less wet form of transport. When I went to collect my bike to cycle to Portobello my seat was completely soaked through and sodden, and we had to borrow a plastic bag from a nearby shop.

2. Don't throw your frisbee in the sea

One of our friends brought along an extra special (apparently it cost £12) frisbee with a hole in the middle called an aerobie. A group of us played with it for about five minutes until it he threw it in the sea. Despite many of us (not me) bravely wading in and searching for it, it was never seen again.

3. Bring Kites

It was a windy day, so kite flying worked quite well. Apart from my "easy to fly" Tesco family kite which didn't want to stay in the air for more than thirty seconds.

4. Don't over complicate rules when playing games

We played piggy in the middle with our frisbee. I always thought this was a simple game not needing long discussions about rules, but apparently not.

5. Meet near a nice cafe

We met on the part of the promenade which is outside the Beach House Cafe. Convenient on a freezing day as you can disappear inside with a warm drink and still see the sea.

6. Get a friend to wear their camera on their head.

Andrew did this. The resulting footage will be available to view soon.

7. Bring your bike, and if you don't have one get one

You can't cycle to Portobello without one, and there is a pleasant cycle route along the Innocent Railway. Some of our friends were forced to walk.

8. Bring a change of socks

No explanation needed.

9. Bring a bucket and spade to help build sandcastles

We didn't do this, but next time I think we should.

In which we travel to Leith to prove we aren't snobs, and succeed in proving ourselves lazy

Are we unwitting snobs?  Personally, I don't really know that I can provide a clear answer. On one hand, I live in Morningside, went to St Andrews, and enjoy things like craft beers, irony, and dinner parties.  On the other hand I am poor, I avoid George Street, and I once ate roadkill.  I also like putting ketchup on things.  In my life, at least, things may even themselves out, but upon glancing at our excellent map of visits I noticed a little geographic snobbery beginning to take root - specifically, a bias towards Old Town.

Today we decided to rectify this apparent discrimination by heading Leithwards, to Pilrig Park.   Why Pilrig Park? Why not?!  We needed to branch out and we knew this park existed, and that was good enough for me.

the sun obscures things somewhat

When I arrived, I did a little reconnaissance along the perimeters, observing the local flora and fauna.  Parents with kids hogging the swings? Check.  Teenagers sitting in sullen circles? Check. Junkie passed out on a bench?  Check.  There were several other classifiable specimens, notably dog-walkers, barbecue maestros, and racquet-wielding sport aficionados.  The sun was up, the day was warm, and even at half past 6, the park was lively.

I took an immediate liking to Pilrig Park - there is an abundance of good sturdy shade trees, and enough variety in the terrain to keep things interesting.  Although I noticed the detritus of the shadier side of Leith (beer bottles strewn near benches, the lingering smell of weed, one or two creepy looking men in tracksuits), the park still managed to effect a pleasant, welcoming vibe.

me doing my thing

 Did we actually play?  Well, not really.  In fact, hardly at all.  I clambered up on a giant revolving child-trap, and Marianne kindly gave it a spin.  The swings and flying fox were being bogarted by the aforementioned children.  Also, and perhaps most importantly, we were being inundated by the delicious smells of BBQ.  It was nearly dinner time.  The cruel wafting scents eventually drove us to leave the park in search of food.

To sum up: what do adults do when they try to play?  It depends on the circumstances.  Sometimes we are truly in the spirit of things, and we go off on adventures, or hiding and seeking, or building forts, or bouncing around on inflatable things, or playing monkey in the middle with frisbees.  These are the good times.  On other occasions, however, we may be a bit preoccupied, tired, or downright uninspired.  These are the days we end up going for a nice walk to a park in Leith and stopping for coffee and croissants on the way home.

So there you have it, dear readers: In attempting to prove we weren't guilty of a bit of anti-Leith snobbery, we only succeeded in proving ourselves to be a bit unimaginative and lazy.  And susceptible to burger envy.  And still a little bit snobby.

It's raining, it's pouring: why not turn the living room into a fort?

Fort from the outside

Fort from the inside

Last week we were in the pub and Lilliputian was having a conversation with GM. I was daydreaming so I am not sure what it was about, but one of them said 'let's build a fort', and someone else said 'yes lets', and someone else said 'right now' and everyone said 'yes now'.

And we hurried back along the 10 minute walk to a flat, went into the living room and started to pull the cushions off the sofa, turn the sofas upside down, and find some rope which we tied around the room so that we could create a canopy out of curtains and sheets. (I might see if Lilliputian can write a post about the construction, because I left a lot of that to the experts, and mostly enjoyed the crawling through the tunnel)

This is something your parents would never let you do - so there are advantages to being an adult!

We have been a little lucklustre about visiting places over the past few weeks - I blame this partly on the weather being awful and erratic leading to days when doing anything more energetic than curling up on the sofa seems like a terrible idea, so we need to think of more activities that can take place inside. Or we need to go to the pub until someone comes up with more ideas, and makes them happen then and there.

Wine & Seek III: The Royal Botanical Gardens

The organization of the third installment of Wine & Seek (which I chose to call Wine & Seek III: the Revengening*) fell to me, by far the eldest of those engaging in what we’re not really allowed to call grown-up or adult play but no-one can really think of a better term for than that. Nonetheless, as Ben Franklin said; we don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we stop playing. And if the opinion of a man who flies kites into thunderstorms and fakes other people’s deaths can’t be trusted, then whose can? So I summoned our intrepid crew to play in Edinburgh's Royal Botanical Gardens, confident of fine weather, lovely surroundings and rejuvenating fun.

The Palmhouse: not suitable for hiding in, but handy during unexpected hail.

Location

A good attempt, but blue jeans are not a hider's friend!

The Botanic Gardens are quite possibly the ideal hide-and-seek location. Large areas of dense rhododendrons, bamboo thickets and various other forms of vegetation perfect for hiding in, under, behind or up are separated into obvious play areas by wide paths, allowing each new game to be played in a new location. Some worked better than others: the first area we tried, comprising the Demonstration Garden and Queen Mother’s Memorial Garden, provided few really great hiding places (though Lilliputian managed to successfully conceal herself inside a spiky bush which kept her hidden until last), with most people simply ducking behind the first tree they found at the garden’s edge. However, later areas provided sufficient camouflage to keep the hiders concealed even when the seeker was looking directly at them, and if we’d had time to play any area more than once we’d no doubt have found even better hiding spots.

One of the greatest benefits of a park like the Botanic Gardens over others is how well maintained it is. Thanks to the groundskeepers who patrol the gardens there is practically no rubbish to be seen, there are no dodgy characters hanging around, and there are no mysterious and frankly slightly creepy tents pitched in the bushes. I was slightly concerned while setting up the event that these same groundskeepers might not take kindly to our off-path charging around, but it seems that as long as one is not actively engaged in damaging the plant-life, you’re free to do as you wish. We were even cheerfully informed that we were free to “picnic” (drink wine) wherever we pleased, so long as we tidied up after ourselves.

The only drawback to this is that the gardens close at 6pm, and the groundskeepers make a sweep 15 minutes beforehand loudly blowing whistles and directing everyone to the nearest exit, which lead to our group being divided, with half sent out through the East Gate while the others made their way to the West. There was some concern that if the more adept hiders were not discovered, they’d be locked in and forced to fend for themselves until the next morning, but happily everyone made a safe exit in the end.

Best Hiding Places

The view from Marianne's hiding spot.

The Copse provided the greatest number of good hiding spots, but with most of the gardens left unexplored on this occasion it’s impossible to say where the best ones really are (especially since Lilliputian refused to reveal those she’d used).

Comparison

Easier to set boundaries to play areas than Easter Craiglockhart Hill, and more pleasant to play in (and with a greater variety of hiding places) than Calton Hill, the Botanics were probably my favourite location so far. However, Wine & Seek has only just begun, and new locations await everywhere! The best may be yet to come.



*Like “The Revenge”, but times a million.