Boonlake

Boonlake is the sort of game that covers the table so thoroughly that, after a Tuesday at work, you briefly forget the washing-up waiting in the kitchen. It is long and properly filling, with a great many little concerns competing for attention, but it never pushed me into that exhausted sort of strain where one counts rounds rather than decisions.

Its central experience is simply keeping that abundance under control. There is always another matter worth tending to, another loose end that looks as though it might pay off, and the tension lies in keeping your own plans moving rather than in a close chase with the other players.

Interaction is limited, however, and this is essentially solitaire with a shared table. If you want a race, hard blocks, and the satisfaction of denying your neighbour a breath, there are better euros elsewhere; here everyone builds their own evening, surrounded by their own pile of ambitious plans.

That abundance is also exactly the appeal. It sits closer to Alexander's lighter work, such as Newdale and Cloud Age, than to his classic heavier euros, and feels like the board-game equivalent of putting your chips down with a grin and seeing what turns up. It outstays its welcome a little, but it is quietly excellent for anyone who would rather fill their own board than squeeze someone else's.

Updated session

By the later plays, up to my fourth, that first impression had not changed; the many parts simply fell into place more readily, and my regard for it rose further. Boonlake remains high among my favourites precisely because it does not pretend to be a tight race: it is a comfortably large, generous solitaire game that knows exactly what it wants to be.