3 October 2006 (I have lost the precise time I reached this destination). While I am with my Head of Department, discussing the first draft of a marking allocation I prepared just before going to Berlin, the phone rings. Being a performer, he (Chris McCullough, a renown Brechtian and Shakespearian scholar) is quite happy to appear centre stage. We talk about his training as a visual artist, as well as the game, and I notice with interest that, as I talk, he is becoming increasingly absorbed in it. I realise later in the day that he is telling colleagues about it and that some even may take a peek at this documentation. I feel now that it would very rewarding to receive some feedback about what kind of sense this would make to someone who does not belong to this strange but wonderful world of Day of the Figurines. For instance, do we look like a population of our own? What is interesting to you about us? Would you like to join us? What do you think we are doing? Do you have a favourite figurine? There are over 80 of us in here – how would you like to encounter the documentation of this piece? What would be useful to you if you were, say, to offer a class about this in two years time. Please let me know by emailing me at g.giannachi@exeter.ac.uk.

8 October 2006, 4.06pm gametime, 12.20 pm my time. I arrive at the Internet Café. It’s the usual scene. I try to find BARNEY but he is not here. There are scampi fries and a drum kit, plus a sick dog. I drop my wristband which seems totally useless anyway and pick up some scampi fries, so I can share them around again. I then decide to pick up one of these sick dogs I keep on encountering and take them to the Blue Cross, which, I am told, looks after sick animals.

10 October 2006 6.46 pm gametime 6.33 my time I arrive at the internet café I again look for BARNEY but have lost him.

20 October 2006, 4.41 game time, 4.15 my time. I arrive at the internet café and pick up some scampi.