I pack for Hamburg – clothes, work, cables, camera, phone, more cables, coffee-stained notes. I am peaky. The skies are ominous and I am still at the dance hall. Nobody here seems to want to engage, so I leave for Chefwork. When I get there, I realise that I do not like it. I decide to try out Ron’s Top Chip Shop. The eateries in this game are truly awful. Today is another day of transition. From train to bus, bus to plane, plane to taxi. Whereas the game’s slow pace is perfect for a normal working day, or even a weekend, while travelling, I find that I either have lots of time, and want to play faster, or no time, and loose other players on the way. Waiting is of course crucial here. Not only because of the ontological implications of the act of waiting (fundamental shifts in the perception of one’s own presence occur at the time of waiting), but also because waiting defines, within the complex dynamics of this piece, where the layers of the theatrical, the performative and the game interfere with one another, and with life itself.

Remember Samuel Beckett’s masterpiece, Waiting for Godot in which two characters, Estragon and Vladimir, spend the whole duration of the piece waiting for the arrival of a certain Godot, who, however, never arrives. It has been demonstrated that the piece contains a number of small units, called ‘W’ for Wartestellen, waiting points (McMillan and Fehsenfeld, 1988: 115-9). The relevance of these moments in the play is fundamental, in that the Wartestellen both provide a certain rhythm, which contributes to the creation of the sense of circularity which characterizes the play, and intensify the sensation of absence suggested, amongst other elements, by the very character whom one is supposed to be waiting for. Here, ‘waiting erases the past and diminishes the present but apparently aggrandises the future in which the waited-for will appear’ (Calderwood in Connor: 1992: 33). As James Calderwood suggests, ‘The absences and uncertainties of memory on the characters’ parts would seem to suggest that they live almost entirely in the present. But what is the present without the past and the future? Its home is the temporal space between the ‘no longer’ and the ‘not yet’’ (ibid.: 35). Eisenman’s essential absences again.

While I am on the bus, waiting to arrive at the airport, waiting to arrive to my destination within the world of Day of the Figurines, I realise the importance of waiting within the game. Here, almost nothing happens quickly. In fact, on occasion, nothing happens at all and I appear to be moving from destination to destination, like some sort of a mixed reality flaneur. Sometimes, answers to questions arrive days later. Sometimes, they don’t arrive at all and I somehow have to live with the consequences of not knowing. I arrive at Ron’s Top Chip Shop. At last I have some company, and not just ‘any’ company. BERLIN and JOANA are here. BERLIN is, of course, an old acquaintance whose humour and ability to provide information about the location of other players I have missed deeply. I am pleased to have found BERLIN. However, BERLIN tells me that they are very sick and need a defibrillator or some saveloy. I have no idea what saveloy is, where to get it or what it’s for. I decide to go to the hospital to see if I can get a defibrillator. Don’t ask me why, but I end up at trap solutions. Then I pass a jeep with some soldiers, and arrive at the airport. There are soldiers here too, and the police. At Trap Solutions I find some brown bottles. I don’t want to pick them up because I fear that I might hurt someone with them. I realise now – I must help BERLIN.

I arrive at the airport and have an uncanny sense of de-ja-vu. It was, after all, less than two weeks ago that I was waiting here for my flight to Berlin. My aunt was still alive then. I was less exhausted. I was full of expectations. I did not know what any of this would feel like. I even remember noticing the flight to Hamburg and thinking that I’d take it next February to visit her for her special birthday. I am suddenly overwhelmed again, feeling the loss of people who have always been part of my life. The game is a welcome distraction. I arrive at the hospital. There’s a guitar here, as well as some sick dogs and a many defibrillators. I remember that CLOUDYSUNNY was in trouble here yesterday. I had suggested he came with me for a cup of tea, but then lost him on my way. I pick up a defibrillator for him and try to find him. I give him mine. He obviously has no idea how to find a defibrillator and I drop mine so he can pick it up. I have to explain this to him. He calls me an angel. Somehow I feel good about this. HERBERT also wants a defibrillator – surely he can share one with CLOUDYSUNNY. Apparently HERBERT has some sick friends at the Rec. I feel sorry for the sick dogs though, and decide that first I must take one to the Blue Cross. I am hungry and need to eat something. The food available at the airport reminds me of the food in the game.

I arrive at the Blue Cross. TERRY DODS is here. I drop my sick dog, though notice there are many others here. I feel that I really must get a defibrillator for BERLIN now and feel guilty about the delay. When I arrive at the hospital, I realise that BERLIN and SCOOBY are already here, along with someone called ROBIN RATTLE whom I do not know. BERLIN and SCOOBY are chatting. Apparently neither BERLIN nor SCOOBY could move. They seem to have a defibrillator now. ROBIN RATTLE reminds them that there still are friends are the REC who really need help. I decide to pick one up and go there. Maybe STAN is in trouble. As I leave, BERLIN tells me that SCOOBY has beef. This makes me smile. Thank you BERLIN.

I finally arrive at the REC. PAUL is here. I ask if anyone needs a defibrillator. I get no reply. I must ask again in the morning. Somehow I now wonder – everyone has been ill here but me. Am I still to become ill, or why am I not ill? Some figurines seem like statues, present but silent. Others do no longer seem to move within the game, paralysed through disease, desperate for help. Others have disappeared altogether. I thought there were 80 of us in here. I am not so sure I can see the evidence of that now. The phone is silent for the rest of the evening. I prepare myself for what will be a difficult day.

To follow my game tomorrow fo to Day of the Figurines 10/10/2006