If you love building things, cooking up clever plans, and outwitting your friends while pretending poverty isn’t a tad depressing, you’re in the right place. This is my review of London—the board game where you rebuild a famous city while dodging debt and eyeing your rivals’ every move. Grab your top hat and let’s see if the game shines like the actual city, or if it’s more of a foggy afternoon by the Thames. Spoiler: I’ve played it a bunch with my crew, and my hands still smell like cardboard and crushed dreams.
How It Plays
Setting up
First, toss the board on the table and hand out some borough cards and cash to everyone (don’t actually toss the board, I learned this the hard way). Shuffle the city cards and make decks. Pop the tokens out—yes, you’ll probably drop at least one under the table. Set your markers on zero Poverty, right where your life is headed if you play badly.
Gameplay
On your turn, you pick one action: draw cards, play cards in your city, run your city, or buy property. Playing cards builds your city up. But watch out! The more you run your city, the more poverty you rack up. Everyone else watches you and—if they’re like my mates—keeps count of every silly mistake you make.
Winning the game
When the city card deck runs out, everyone counts up their scores. Money, city points, and boroughs all help—but you lose points for poverty, so avoid becoming Victorian London’s unluckiest landlord. The player with the most points at the end gets to brag, and trust me, my friend Steve will never let me forget the time he won by two points.
Want to know more? Read our extensive strategy guide for London.
Gameplay Mechanics and Strategy Depth in London
Alright, let me tell you about the crunchy heart of London—the gameplay mechanics and that juicy strategy depth. I’ve played this one enough times to know who snoozes and who wins, and buddy, the gears are always turning. In London, you run your own city after the Great Fire, and trust me, rebuilding a city is tougher than convincing my friends to let me go first.
The main mechanic is card play—sounds simple, but oh boy, these cards can make you sweat. On your turn, you can buy land, play buildings, or run your city. The catch? Running your city triggers all your buildings, but also poverty. If you ignore poverty, expect to see your points jump out the window. The poverty system keeps everyone honest and forces you to juggle risk and reward. The trash talk at our table is always about who can dodge the most poverty, and let’s just say my friend Bob still owes me for that disastrous debt pile-up.
There’s real depth here. You can focus on making points from fancy buildings, gamble with loans, or chain effects to squeeze every penny from your cards. You need to react to what others play, which cards are available, and even the order you play stuff in. Planning ahead pays, but you also need to think on your feet—just last game, I switched my whole plan because someone snatched the card I wanted! If you like chess-level planning but with more economic misery, London’s got your back.
Next up, I’ll spill the beans about player interaction and how London keeps you guessing what your pals are plotting—so put on your poker face!
How Cutthroat Is London? Player Interaction and Engagement Level
Let’s talk about how much you’ll glare across the table in London. This game isn’t about shouting at opponents or toppling pieces in rage (I save that for Monopoly). Instead, interaction here takes on a sneaky, brainy form. Most of your time, you’re quietly building your city tableau and eyeballing your poverty track. At first, it feels like you’re all just minding your own Victorian business. But pretty soon, you’ll notice everyone’s watching each other’s neighborhoods like nosy old ladies with binoculars.
Every time I’ve played, someone’s had a clever plan blown up by another player snatching a card they wanted or buying a borough out from under their nose. Turns out, you can’t sleep on what the other city-builders are doing. I once ignored my friend Pete’s poverty level until his city started spewing out more filth than the Thames. Next thing I knew, I was neck-deep in poverty tokens just trying to keep up! It’s these small moments of sabotage and one-upmanship that make London oddly thrilling, like silent warfare with polite British manners.
But if you want constant shouting and wild alliances, London isn’t your best bet. It feels more like competitive gardening—occasionally stealing someone’s prized tulip bulbs. The engagement is steady, though. You can’t zone out for long. If you blink, someone’s built St. Paul’s and left you with a pile of debt and regret.
Next up: Can London keep you coming back for more, or will you grow tired of smog and city planning? Let’s find out in the Replay value and variety section!
Replay Value and Variety in London
Before I tell you how many times I’ve lost to my friends in London, let’s talk about what keeps the game fresh. One of the big draws is the huge stack of city cards. With every play, I never get the same combination twice. It’s like shuffling different toppings onto a pizza—sometimes it’s delicious, sometimes you regret the anchovies, but it never gets boring.
Every game, you’ll stare at your hand and scheme up different ways to make your districts shine. Will you focus on points, stack up on cash, or just weather the storms your rivals throw at you? The variety of buildings, from fancy theaters to shady pawn shops, means you can always try something new. My friend Greg once built the most ridiculous charity engine you’ve ever seen—he still brags about it to this day.
The borough tiles and the deck of city cards work together to mix up the map each time. You’re not just repeating the same old moves. You’ve got to adapt on the fly. Plus, the game scales surprisingly well with all player counts. Even with just two players, London keeps the gears turning. When we play with four, chaos erupts. But it’s always the good kind of chaos. If you don’t like stale games, London’s got your back.
If you’re constantly itching for a fresh challenge, you’ll find yourself pulling London off the shelf again and again. I can’t count how many times I’ve told myself, “Just one more round,” and somehow ended up playing all night.
Next, get ready for the real London eye-candy—I’ll be chatting about its component quality and artwork!
London Board Game: A Classy Box of Bricks and Beauty
Let’s talk about holding the actual box of London in your hands. No, it won’t make you suddenly crave tea and crumpets, but it comes close. When I opened it, I half-expected the Queen to pop out and ask for a cuppa.
The component quality here is top-notch. The cardboard is thick—thicker than my accent after a night out. The cards have a nice linen finish, which means you don’t have to treat them like fragile old manuscripts. They feel fancy, and they shuffle well, even after a few heated games where my friends were close to flipping the table. The coins are simple punch-outs, but sturdy enough that even my buddy Dave (who is famous for dropping pieces everywhere) didn’t manage to destroy them.
But let’s be honest, what really won me over was the artwork. The city cards are dripping with moody vibes—Victorian streets, misty bridges, and a subtle color palette that feels like Sherlock Holmes is about to stroll by. It’s got that grey, almost rainy feel that makes you want to put on a top hat even if your head is too big for one. Board layout is clear and uncluttered, so you can keep your focus on the back-stabbing—sorry, I mean strategizing.
My only minor gripe? The player tokens are a bit plain. I wanted mini red buses or maybe tiny umbrellas, but hey, I can dream.
Do I recommend London? Absolutely—unless you only play games that come with plastic miniatures. Then, buy a toy bus and play anyway. This one’s a keeper!
Conclusion
If you like clever card play, tricky choices, and just the right dose of player tension, London will keep you coming back for more. The replay value is high, the art’s classy, and the city-building feels both smart and fun. Sure, it won’t give you plastic pieces to chew on when you lose, but the cards and board still look great. If you hate keeping track of poverty or get salty when Steve wins with lucky draws, you might want to look elsewhere. But for most game nights, London’s a dependable choice—much like a cup of tea after a rainy walk. This wraps up my review, and I hope you have as much fun with London as my group did (except for Steve, who’s banned from bragging until next game).
