As I writer, I have been to literary and book conventions. I’ve been to art festivals. I even covered a Lego convention about ten years ago. But I’d never been to a board game convention.
What was I to expect? Stalls of publishers both established and independent, highlighting their wares in a bid to garner interest? Or perhaps seminars by designers and creators talking through their journeys towards their latest creations? Surely a sea of tables, all crammed full of people huddled around board games of all shapes and sizes, gripped by the action of their meeples?
Well, let me tell you… It all began one week prior, when during a casual game of Quest for El Dorado my expedition rival looked up and asked me if I was going to Tabletop Scotland.
What, I responded, is Tabletop Scotland?
In my defence for not knowing, I had only recently moved to Edinburgh and my social calendar was somewhat lacking. I love board games. Love playing them. Love writing about them. Love geekily reading about that. But going to a convention? It hadn’t even crossed my mind. So I rushed home and bought a ticket for Friday. If I were to dip my toe into the mad, mad world of board game conventions I was to do it slowly, on my terms.
And then I waited. One whole agonising week. My excitement grew. My interest piqued. Until Friday rolled around and I took the bus to the airport and walked the short distance to the convention centre. I saw others like me walking the same direction and felt a strange sense of comradery with people I’d never met before. I saw the doors opening up before me and felt the buzz of that great hall draw me forth.
And when I stepped inside it… was… beautiful!
Yes to all, is the answer to my questions in paragraph two. Before me I saw what the world of board games could be, the depth and breadth of my beautiful hobby laid bare. Board game after board game. And not even just that. There were dozens of RPGs ranging from scientific expeditions to pirate ships of the underworld. There were shops and showcasings and accessory tables.
I floated as if in a dream from one stall to the next, not really asking, not really listening, but just basking in it all. That was until one of the exhibitors helpfully told me to make a loop and then come back to the games I wanted to demo.
Demo? I asked. As in play? I could do that?
Well, yeah! (Remember, I’m a newbie at this).
Okay, this changes everything…
I’ll spare you the details of the rest. I ended up coming back on Sunday because one day just wasn’t enough. I played I think ten games in total (maybe more. I lost count) of all different types. I was introduced to new ways of playing, new mechanics, and new systems. I got to play games I would never otherwise get to play, against a whole host of opponents. It was, and I know this is cheesy, a revelation into what this hobby could be. Sure, I get to play a bunch of really cool and unique games with the board game meetup I visit every Friday. But I don’t really know what I’m getting into there when I sit down to a new game. And while a part of that is the same at a convention, the sheer scope of what is available and the kindness and joy of all the demo-ers just makes it such a safe space to explore parts of the hobby I would never otherwise get to see (quick shoutout to the lovely man at the Zatu stall whose name I forgot and who patiently taught and then played alongside KinFire Delve with me. He’s a legend!).
So that was my first experience at a board game convention. It was the best of the hobby, distilled and concentrated and placed under one roof. And for anybody who is asking: yes, I have already blocked out the entirety of next year’s Tabletop Scotland. 2026 cannot come soon enough.
