R*n Report: Hash 904, April 21st, 2019

Welcome to the Var!

In a land Var, Var away…

…there was an Easter Sunday with many religious connotations. Why, Perpetch even graced us with his presence at lunchtime after enlightening the local Anglo community to the sacrifices of Jesus on this day many years ago. Even more, the hares decided to perform their version of Jesus feeding the 5,000 with their own version at lunch by feeding the 6 with 5 fish. More of that later.

Le Muy on an Easter Sunday is a quiet kind of place. Flat plains with a red mountain in the distance. Perfect location for a short, flat run followed by a long, boozy lunch (well, that bit was achieved for some unnamed hashers, wasn’t it Fairy Plongeur?). A number of regulars were away but fortunately replaced by the far more sporty presence of The Vicar & Flying Chicken in from Norway and Sud Sucker & Dirty Dingus from Japan. No comment on our athletic prowess but it cannot have been a coincidence that these were the FRBs. Just saying.

Initial suspicions of a flat hash were confirmed as the hash started by running 3km along a very flat road. It was rather beautiful, going over a flowing river and past families cycling on Easter Sunday. This was turning into Supermarket Trolley’s ideal run. No hills, no shiggy, no limb breaking trails. A dream. Absolutely a divine dream.

No checks either. This was to be a feature of this hash, along with the misunderstanding of whether “farine” means flour or flower. Alas, the road running ended at the bottom of a very vertical slab of rock. Fortunately, it was dry on this Easter Sunday as otherwise we would have been slithering downwards. Front runners Dingus and The Vicar raced ahead up the rock face, happily completely lost due to the lack of flour. There were plenty of beautiful spring flowers but definitely not flour. Farine – Flour-Flower. Misunderstanding or signs of a walker setting the runners’ trail?

Meanwhile, Padre is now getting used to his role as back marker. One week it’s a cold, the next it’s falling over and injuring himself whilst gardening. Why make such excuses? Surely it’s easier just to admit you are unfit like the rest of us. Fortunately he was in no danger of getting lost as the hares had given him a very well marked map showing a very direct trail with, err, no signs of checks or deviation from the GR51.

Padre pretending to run. Clearly just a show for the camera

And so up the mountain we scrambled. FRBs became back markers, who in their turn got lost. Eventually we climbed up a sheer cliff face. Even that did not do the trick of losing hashers, so we were relying ever more on slowcoach Padre and his map. 

Buns was happily scrambling up the mountain with her dog, Smelly Pooh keeping Padre company, Cumalot veering between FRB and slowcoach and Dingus & The Vicar happily running twice as far as everyone else as they were following flowers rather than the missing flour. Up on top of the rock, we finally ran out of both flowers and flour to follow. This led to lots of slowdown and waiting for Padre to appear with his map. Fortunately, Padre confirmed that we were continuing on the GR51 and, from hereon in it was obvious – why waste flour when the hiking trail is so well marked?

Made it to the top – well, some runners did!

Fortunately, it was now time to go downhill and then meander round the opposite side of the rock in the knowledge that the beer car was close (thanks to Padre’s map). The beer car gave good respite from a great initial run followed by a scramble. Unfortunately, it did not last too long as the walkers had been there a while and were keen to set off again.

The second half continued as the first ended, with lots of flowers and little flour. But excitement was ahead. We could hear the sound of shooting and started complaining about “bloody hunters” (sorry, Pilchard, I can’t write in a Mancunian accent). Fortunately, it was a firing range below our trail. Brazenly, Cumalot was wearing a bright orange t shirt and decided to offer himself as a target, whilst Sudsucker tried to distract the shooters from mistaking Cumalot for an orange boiler suit wearing Guantanamo prisoner.

Cumalot preparing for his target practice

Target practice over, it was a rocky downhill that sorted the (wo)men from the boys and girls. Previous back markers Pilchard and Cumalot suddenly started gaining speed, whilst Supermarket Trolley was very careful and Jobsworth was so slow that even Padre threatened to overtake him.

From thereon in, it was back on the road and time to overtake the walkers and be back to the start for some well earned beer.

And so to the circle:

Hares – Tosspot & Dire Rear. Many thanks for a great run

Visitors – Flying Chicken & The Vicar

Returners – Sud Sucker, Dirty Dingus, Smelly Pooh, Ball Bearing, Fairy Plongeur, Iron Lady

Birthdays – The Queen Cumalot (missing a comma changes everything), Farty Bum

Burning Notre Dame – a referendum asked whether it was the fault of Macron or the English. Macron won by a landslide (far more than 52%), so the French took the down down for him.

Plogging – Supermarket Trolley (apparently it represents cleaning up the mess left by Pilchard when on trail).

Misunderstanding the difference between flour and flowers – Dire Rear

Injuries on trail – Buns, Sadist, Dire Rear, Pilchard, The Vicar Mug check – Fairy Plongeur

Lame, sick & lazy runners – Padre & Smelly Pooh

Offering themselves as shooting targets – Cumalot & Sud Sucker

Confused lifts to the hash – Jobsworth, Cumalot, Supermarket Trolley & Farty Bum

Shit of the week was a lame affair between Padre & Farty Bum, with Padre winning on a recount.

Time for lunch. Or not, depending on who you were. After having given their orders for fish several days previously and reconfirmed it before the hash, Supermarket Trolley & Jobsworth were looking forward to, err, fish for lunch. It was clear that all was not well in the resto as the chatter was of 6 people asking for fish but only 5 being available. In the most brazen reversal of Jesus feeding the 5,000 ever witnessed on an Easter Sunday, the resto solved the problem by cutting one fish in half and presenting each half to Supermarket Trolley & Jobsworth without comment. Worse, the normally mild mannered Jobsworth dared to complain, comparing the half portion to the full portions of his neighbours, only for the propriétaire to exclaim “How dare you, I prepared it all myself and all portions were equal”. Lies, damned lies and offended local restaurateurs. Customer service is alive and well in Le Muy!

Anyway, the (lack of) fish added to the spice of a highly enjoyable hash as organised by Tosspot & Dire Rear. Many thanks to you both and OnOn to the next.

Run report 901: Don’t mention the Wolf – by Norma Stitts


…I may have mentioned it once but I think I got away with it….

The Wolf

The start of this Hash was all whispers about a wolf. Now, I thought people were talking about ‘the Wolf’, a german Hasher of repute who visited us at the Porquerolles many beers ago and then passed away on trail.

Luckily, not our trail as we’d still be filling in the ****ing paperwork!

No, this was a real wolf, a rumour of which had been spotted by Farty Bum and we weren’t to mention to Supermarket Trolley under ANY circumstances in case the Hash had to be abandoned, which after 31 years, would have been a shame.

Did I mention it was our 31st birthday?

Hurrah for us!


There was cake and champagne at the beer stop ! Hurrah for the Hares!

Lone Wolf

Procul joined us half way though the first half but it was actually more like half way though the r*n as the first half was a lot longer than the second in distance, but if you added the time waiting at the beer stop for the w*lkers then they were about the same length. In time. Not distance.

As I was saying, Procul surprised us by joining late, whereas he was due a down-down for arriving on time for some Hashes which was confusing.

Did the down-down for being early negate the down-down he was due for being late?. One for the RA to decide later.

Bad Wolf

The runners arrived at the beer stop but….no walkers! “Who cares” goes the typical cry at this point but… who had the keys to the beer car!! FartyBum!!!

Padre managed to open the door but set the alarm off… and didn’t access the beer!

We were forced to squeeze Levrette in through a small 4 foot gap obtained by opening the door again. It was a tough job but four hefty runners (there are runners on this Hash? – ed) managed to squeeze her in.

Keep up with the diet Levrette, its working!

WHO ATE ALL THE PIES, and CHIPS and PEANUTS!

Wolf of Wall Street

The Hares had warned us there would be some ‘up’ on this trail and for once, they were telling the truth. They also impressed us with their knowledge of non-Euclidean geometry by promising a 365 degree view from the Roman camp.

Sadly, there was only a stunning 360 view and no camp Romans. I could have stayed in bed! Said nobody.

A CAMP ROMAN AND FRIENDS.


The views were very impressive (which views! -ed) , as far as Bar sur Wolf with its remains of the old viaduct when ‘went on fire’ after the beginning of WW2.

Cumalot decided to film the 365 view while standing on a picnic table because he was not tall enough already… when a very rude rambler turned up from nowhere and said ‘Oi, I want to eat my lunch off that’.

How inconsiderate of her! Artiste at work!

Video available here

SPOT THE BAR. HINT: ITS ON THE WOLF!


Wolf Whistle

It was international Women’s day just before the Hash, so lets hear it for those international women!

Wolfing it down-down

The circle was short in order to rush to the resto. There were down-downs, this is from memory so is all very unreliable…

Hares – Supermarket Trolley and Farty Bum


Buns – Animal endangerment, leaving Smudge’s lead to the mercy of the wolf rambler at the view point

Buns – not using Hash names

Hashy Birthday – Contessa, and the club!

Returners – Cumalot, Philppe, Philippes wife, Pedophil, Skinny A

Dogging – Farty Bum . see this handy reference

Cumalot – shortcutting, rambling on and many other offenses

Shit of the Week – Madame Mouton for not scaring the wolf away. Which seems harsh. Anyway, Farty Bum was an excellent substitute.

Padre – for talking about the Incredible Hulks areshole behind his back.

And being slightly serious for a moment, here is Incredible Hulk’s message all the way from the small town of Rēčtüm in Hungary.

Greetings,

It is too far to visit here, but for Info, Inc Hulk is having a Survival Hash this Sunday in Budapest. Five years all-clear from the Oncologist after colon cancer.

So you can nominate someone to do a DD for me in your circle 🙂 

Hopefully I will come visit in the next few weeks (need a business trip 🙂 

OnOn!!! IH

PS: Anyone who has not had a colonoscopy and is over about 50, should get one done! It is a life saver !!! -(and fun for all the family- ED)

Hungry like the wolf

The resto was another great find for the Hares. An tasty Indian meal in France? whatever next!! Its a good job we were a little late as the raucous Hash crowd managed to drive out the other patrons by their noisy chatter (was that just Levrette? – ed). To be fair, these patrons were even older than us, hard to believe I know…

NAME THAT HASHER?

Air Wolf

And finally…in tribute to Jan-Michael Vincent who passed away during the Hash (thankfully not on ours for the reasons given above) who when asked in an interview how he was…

“I’m a drunk,” Vincent is said to have responded. “I’ve always been a drunk and that is all I want to be.”

he could have been a hasher!

OnOn! to the next one.

R*N Report 897 – Buns and Tightwad

Tight Wad and Buns build up an appetite for their OnOn

Last time I wrote a run report, Sadist had also decided to knock one off, meaning that you lucky readers were able to get 2 for the price of 1. Well, you got Sadist’s fine oeuvre and also my drivel as the special “bargain basement post-Christmas” one thrown in, a bit like those C list celebrity autobiographies at that time of year. I have no idea if we will repeat the feat this time, but here’shoping for a more representative version of the truth than what is about to follow.

Since last trying to send you to sleep with his drivel, your scribe has had two hash experiences that should have served as a warning to what was to come today. The first, outside Durban, saw your scribe slavishly follow the directions on Google Maps – to a highway exit – after which point he got hopelessly lost. The Maps then drove him on a picturesque trip through a black township and then told him to drive back the way he came. Whether a genuine mistake or not, I’m going to rememberthe feeling of intimidation during those long 20 minutes more than running the hash alone just as everyone else was finishing it. Second experience was the far better organised Cape Town hash (yep, I was the first hasher to get there) and with spectacular views. However, in both cases, the hash was no longer than 5km long.

A hole has been discovered in the nudist camp fence.
Alpes Maritimes Police have confirmed that they are looking into it.

So, after all the convolution, where is the link to Buns and TightWad? Easy, the What3Words directions were perfect and TightWad also proudly announced that the run would be 11.5km without falsies and even offered to show the route before we started. Had I looked at this marathon, I would have slunk back to bed. Or been like Finnish Fly, who made a fanfare of asking us to mark the start of the trail only to decide to stay in bed. Due to pollen? With whom? Who knows?

Riviera HHH Lost in France
Lost in France?

Nevertheless, we were blessed with a good turnout of walkers and runners (well, Wet Patch and a bunch of pretend runners). The weather blessed us equally, with blue skies and high teens (Centigrade, not Fahrenheit), so everyone was raring to set off on what we all anticipated would be a short and flat run in the hills near to Grasse.

To be fair, the run did start at a decent pace, though Jobsworth and Supermarket Trolley decided that it would be going uphill, rather than flat. But they were deceived, as it soon went uphill in the other direction. Padre soon got his excuses in for not being able to catch up with Wet Patch, being that he has been so ill since the start of the year that he can’t even drink beer. Procul and Supermarket Trolley also got their excuses in by using the annual birthday excuse. Another year older, a tiny bit slower. Especially uphill. Even Lonely was less fast than normal, though in his case, he claimed a desire to catch up on gossip for remaining with the pack. This left the real athletes such as Levrette, Prestressed and Jobsworth to show the way by yabbering on whilst “running”.

An ice cream van just crashed down our street.

The whole area is coned off.

Our hare TightWad was doing a marvellous job. We soon realised that this run would not be as flat as hoped and he kindly led us down roads, along a bit of flat and then down ravines. However, he very courteously marked out many checks after the satisfaction of seeing FRBs choose the wrong ones. All to assist Finnish Fly (not) to catch up, of course.

Talking of missing runners, here are some of our part time hashers enjoying themselves this weekend – in Barcelona. Apparently, they all met up there by coincidence.

Coincidence, their ménage à trois?

Meanwhile, on the real hash, we were running past the big houses and Padre was in his element,having once been a many of many means. He happily pointed out Andrew Neil’s palace, before digressing onto how he enjoyed watching Diane Abbott whenever Mr Neil invites her on his TV show. This is not because Padre is of a leftish remoaner persuasion, but because he cannot get the image of Diane Abbott and Jeremy Corbyn making horizontal sport together.

Love on the left

Unfortunately, political digressions over, we noticed that the first half had lasted for over 8km and that the start point was up in the clouds. Time for the real athletes to excel by running and chatting whilst going up a steep hill. Levrette excelled in this skill, largely thanks to needing a beer after her exertions.

We thankfully made the beer stop whilst it was still light, to find that the walkers had been there a while enjoying the delights of the RHHH refreshments centre. Respite was relatively short for the runners as we were soon off again on the second half. Fortunately, this was a far less vertical 2km and took in some spectacular views of the Riviera on this wonderful early spring day.

And all too soon, it was back to where we had started for a few pre OnOn down downs.

The Circle required a few people to drink a beer or two. Court notes recount the following: Hares – Buns and TightWad. Thank you for a wonderful long and vertical run.
Padre for short cutting (or more likely thinking that he knew a short cut).
Visitors – Wet & Ready and Biggles

Returners – Gorgeous Edna, Lonely, Wet Patch, Karen & Jobsworth.
Getting older – Supermarket Trolley and Procul.
Special thanks to Maneater and Suckon for the incredibly tasty Vegemite and Cheddar biscuits all the way from Noosa.

Down Down to surrogate convict Prestressed.


Procul for telling Levrette that he has big ones and then arranging to prove it to her after the OnOn. TightWad for being too easy going as a hare…it should have been 20km with 800m of climb!
Proof of Valentines awarded to Wet Patch (and her mystery beard) and Levrette for her flowers to No Nuts.


Levrette was presented with her 50 run mug by Sadist.

What a mug!

Procul got another down down for turning up early to two hashes in a row.
A special mention to PHD for looking for advice on a Riviera group on how to get rid of an “old English banger”. Most advice was “burn it”, though this seemed very harsh on Padre.


Finally, Sh*t of the Week went to Gorgeous Edna for falsely accusing the beer meister of not organising Gin & Tonic.

And so it was On On to the hares’ home for well deserved food and entertainment. Many thanks to them for organising a wonderful day out.

I hope Elon Musk never gets into a scandal, can you imagine how long ElonGate would go on for.

Run No. 89?

Hare; Iron Lady.

Location: La Napoule

Scribe; Percy Veere

Not long to go now…………………

Maybe that is why our Religious Adviser and his deputy were not in attendance. They have jumped ship in advance of the Brexit. However, Padre stayed behind administer proceedings in his usual, ineffable, calm manner and  asked if anyone wanted to stand in to assume the huge responsibility and was met by a deafening silence.

The weather forecast was for overcast skies, and rain after midday, which was a shame after the glorious weather we had been experiencing all week. The Iris and Daffodils were in bloom in the more sheltered locations and Willie Wordsworth’s famous poem sprang to mind as I was contemplating a serious cloud like wandering in the beautiful Esterel.

Now that appears as if the the worst of the winter weather has past my friend in Monaco as asked if I know anyone who would like to buy a secondhand snow plough.

Went out yesterday and got a new car for the wife.
For my first attempt I thought that was pretty good bartering.

Iron Lady was taking inspiration from all the colourful marking on the surrounding roads, (See Sadist’s offering of his biased account of what transpired with the L.W.B, section of the trail.)  and proceeded to outdo them with a comprehensive illustration of all the hieroglyphics and marks we might be experiencingdepending on which trail the participants decided to follow.

Applying Perpetual Motion’s famous 7 p’s, Iron Lady started her introductory spiel early and the run started bang on time, (Greenwich Mean Time + 1.  FU EU) with the runners making their way down to the beach with the Walkers left behind for some special last minute instructions.

Where was I………ah yes, runners down towards the beach and the first, direction change, opportunity. Where to go, where, bloody hell, where………..eventually discovered the faint, red, chalk mark, arrow which had been peed nearly into oblivion by a multitude of passing canine piss depositors.

Just ‘cos he look innocent does not mean he is !

We head West along the coastal path towards Theoule where I was expecting to see this sign………….

Brought tears to my eyes just thinking about it. No, not what you were thinking, it was just beautiful. It would have looked much better if the people in the water were only wearing their bikini bottoms though. Not sure exactly what they were doing, but it looked like running on the spot to me and why where they all wearing wet T- shirts?

Around the bay, up then to cliff tops and then down again to Port La Rague at sea level.The only way is up………

Inland now, up the valley until the first trail choice of continue, or take the mule track up to the top of the Col. A quick Tango back and forth and no trail is found and so we all decide to continue up the valley as the logical choice,plus some inside knowledge.

Eventually we locate flour, much to the relief of all concerned and we continue on our merry way.

A beautiful meander through the valley past the old dormitory block, and disused wreck of a church of some denominationor other, and the old Fluorite quarry with a few random checks to slow the progress of the Pilgrims until we reach the junction with the main Mandelieu to Les Adrett road.

No way are we going up the hill away from where the beer should be. And so it proved but only after a big S about a km. in length. and then back towards the cemetery and a much needed beer and refreshments.

Ignore the ‘best before date’ labels on garlic bread…It’s pretty much the worst thing to eat before a date.

Refreshments over and the runners set off early as Iron Lady had not finished with the sight seeing tour. We now head around the slope 
and up the side until we have what would have been a beautiful view over the bay if it was not for the low flying cloud. View stop quickly over and then up to the top of the volcano and the other spectacular view over the bay of Cannes and the airport at Mandelieu just in time to look down on a plane coming in to land.

Then back down to pick up the in-trail with a gentle run through the village and into the car park.

Down Downs were earned by…(But not limited to, as I do not have a list and my memory is somewhat lacking in spare brain cells to bang together.)

  • Hare; Iron Lady
  • Returner; Procul, Drag Anchor
  • Car Dealing; Ball Bare-ing
  • Disrupting E.U. Solidarity; The Italians, something to do with a diplomatic spat, I think,  Iron Lady and The Duchess of Cambridge.
  • Lost Property; Buns
  • No Club Mugs; Procul and ???
  • Not Talking in the circle. A first ! Drag Anchor.
  • Sheep Shagging; Iron Lady

The circle was then closed.

Farty Bum immediately wanted to know why there was no, “Shit Of The Week,” awarded. It was explain that the decision was made because we did not have the paraphernalia.

The question of, who then, was responsible for this deviation from Hash protocol was asked.

Surprise, surprise……….. Farty Bum.

I think she was feeling a bit left out and only wanted her customary Down Down, which therefore, was duly administered.

Then off to the nearby restaurant to a well deserved, sumptuous, calorific stuffing as the gentle rain started to fall.The R.A. has not lost his powers despite not having used them for some time.

Who said, “I have not had sex for so long some times I go running in flip flops, just to remember what it sounds like! “

And now the Walkers View….

The Rosetta Stone which was discovered by the French and is now preserved for posterity in the British Museum ( we are not giving it back), enabled the decipherment of Egyptian hieroglyphs; Iron Lady wrote her own hieroglyphs on the trail and gave her Rosetta stone explanation on the ground at the start of the run; but apart from BS I cannot recall what these runes symbolized. She had also advised a dress code for the run being a choice of pigs, bees, hearts or mimosa. Wetsuits would have been more appropriate for the swimming opportunity at the sandy La Napoule beach. None of us was suitably attired; not so a group of nymphs frolicking in the surf. As we went up the path over the cliffs this wetsuited group seemed to be running on a hash of their own following a trail which led them into the sea at the next beach- not sure how they laid the trail over the water. Anyway Sir Philip Green would have had a £1m bottom slapping opportunity as these attractive ladies went past us in their figure-hugging neoprene.

Which way to go? down the rabbit hole?
Regroups were necessary as all signs pointed in confusing directions.

After a while we got used to the reverse flow and went up and around the old San Peyre volcano to the cemetery where Iron Lady had chosen to position the beerstop car. It was quite a while before we were joined by the runners who had been doing their own 8k thing elsewhere. We were not joined by any dead sprits who must have been enjoying their own ambrosia in the Elysian Fields while we supped earthly brews in the damp and cold.

So it was a short walk down the road back to the start.

R*N Report 893 – A fishy story


It was the promise of pre-ordered FISH n’chips that lured 4 Oslo Hashers to join Riviera run 893. On our arrival, a SHOAL of 25-30 Hashers were FLOUNDERing around at the CARPark at the end of the bloody big bridge.

Some were admiring their MULLET haircuts whilst others were PERCHed on seats admiring the sun RAYS over Lac St Cassien.  As far as we could see, there was an English PILCHARD, a few CHUBBs but no FINs. There was a bit of a nip in the air but not enough to dampen the SOLEs of the disciples who gathered round like SARDINES in a barrel to keep warm. Most of the dogs behaved well but the grey bugger with the evil eyes was a bit of a SNAPPER.

The Snapper, thats the dawg, not Likkmm

Hare of the day, Perpetual Motion did the obligatory chalk-talk and did a recount for the pre-ordered COD and chips which turned out to be 25 instead of the expected 18 (more about this later).

And we were off. For the first fifty meters everything went fine, then confusion as we hesitated to cross the afore-mentioned bloody big bridge caused by an ambiguous sign (at least for those not parleying bon Français) indicating no pedestrians but by the time we got to the other end somebody had translated the clarification “Durant les Écopages”

Leaving the tarmac, we SCALEd a bloody big hill which FILETed off the runners from the walkers. The trail led us over waves of forested terrain to sun RAYed peaks and troughs of frozen valleys where we could have DABbed our feet in the iced over puddles or SKATEd across them.

After 9 kilometers the drink stop was in sight – BRILL. Closing in, the pace picked up and cries of WAHU were heard as we reached the PLAICE. The boot of Perpetual Motion’s car, resembled a BAR as drinks and snack were distributed to the assembled GROUPERs. PILCHARD used the opportunity of new faces to re-tell his otherwise worn out joke repertoire. While he did raise a chuckle or two, most of us thought it was a load of POLLOCKs.

My kind’a town?

After the drink stop, the runners were lured into returning from whence they had cum and FISH FINGERED out in all directions. PILCHARD was seen following Pre-stressed re-tracing the runners trail, the wiser of us thought “EEL be sorry” – turns out, we were right.

Back in the CARPark, the circle was dEELayed for the arrival of Pre-stressed and PILCHARD who managed to clock up 18k on a 13k trail and came back looking like PORTUGESE MEN OF WAR. Down-down songs were sung to various TUNAs and some sang with BASS voices. All in all, a lovely run in a nice area with some great views.

Then there was the cock-up with the restaurant. Apparently, a friendly phone call to announce that we were 25 instead of 18 didn’t go down well resulting in a pissed off owner who promptly shut down the place. Perpetual’s efforts of a personal visit yielded nothing but more nails in the shutters and all forms of reconciliation were abandoned. 

Plan B involved a rapid refund by Levrette of the recently paid meal fee and off to Asian fast food “Old Siam”. Ignoring Pre-stressed’s advice that the food there was like “shit on toast”, many of us ate a FISH-free meal only to be distracted by Likk’mm’s new shoes which had somehow gone unnoticed in the circle despite them being size 49. “Circle up” – out into the restaurant CARPark and we had the staff wondering if they really were serving shit on toast when customers must rush out to drink beer from oversized footwear.

On-On

The Vicar

Down-downs:

Hare: Perpetual Motion

The idiots that delayed the circle for running 5k more than necessary:

Pre-stressed and PILCHARD

Virgins: 3-4 virgins

Visitors: Spermbank and Erector from Oslo H3 and Likk’mm representing the rest of the world

Returners: The Vicar and Flying Chicken 

Shit of the week: Perpetual Motion for arranging a pre-ordered FISH n’chips meal at New Leaf restaurant which subsequently refused to have anything to do with us.

Assistant shit of the week: The Vicar for apparently mentioning fish too much – load of CODs wallop say I

Riviera HHH , Pre-Xmas Party Hash, December 1st.


Hashers met in a pubic carpark as usual. The special event was celebrated by pre-run drinks of G & T, Prosecco & Aperol, under a warm Riviera sunshine/blue sky, as the group accumulated, kissing and shaking hands (or other parts). Meeting was 14:00 for a 14:30 start, most of the expected people arrived before kickoff. Unfortunately Tosspot & Dire Rear were stuck on the road due the French Traditional Manif, decorated with pretty yellow jackets (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellowjacket).

The Hares were Padre & PhD, they had set trail in themorning before the start. There had been a bit of a delay, apparently PhDneeded a professional to attend to her Pubic Hair, which took a while tocomplete to her full satisfaction. But eventually Parde and PhD sent the Hashon its way, going East around a few industrial buildings, with plenty of big“O”s to keep the ladies happy. After a few false trails, the Hash continuedEast then we came to a ditch, and the trail went both sides, but onlyIncredible Hulk went the route needing to cross the ditch (the wimpy Padre hadsuccumbed to his Cohare, not to set the runners trail to cross a ditch, he isgoing soft in his old age.. it comes to us all). Then across the road headingNorth, with the inevitable uphill. The complete lack of beer-stops caused some consternation, but the runners kept going despite the unfavourable conditions.

Up, then up, and up some more…  the trailwent on, with only a few bits of shaggy, virtually no undergrowth and not asingle construction site to ross (Padre is definitely going soft). The trailwas almost all on roads, the sun shone, the views were good, dogs barked, and asmall boy sitting on a wall helped the bewildered walkers by telling them therunners had gone by. So despite their bewildered state, walkers were able tofind the way OK. After a few more checks and searching, the trail went West andfinally down-hill, going along a farm track (the nearest thing to shiggy allday) and through the edge of a field and the ‘garden’ of an abandoned house,coming out at the bakery a few hundred metres from the start; so the On-In backwas easy form here. All gathered, runners, walkers, knackered old walkers andlate-kummers, for a few drinks then the circle, with our RA, Padre. During thecircle, Padre effectively re-arranged the nattering Ladies (& men) toreduce the chattering. Contessa arrived mid- circle (early for the Party) andthe Perpetch was noted as buggering off mid circle.

DDs (I did not understand it all, so I guess some bits..)

Contaminating Trail: Darth Vader & Wanka

Mugless – many… (possibly a record number, too many to remember)

Levvrette had a DD, for something about her monkey-fisting with a coconut (not sure how Padre knew about it)

Late Kummers – Tosspot, Dire Rear & Drag Anchor

Palinka (Hungarian 40% pear juice) – Inc Hulk, Haggis, Romanian, Sinex, Padre and probably some others

St Andrews day: All the Scots, Romanians & Greeks

Warm-up run (10K before the Hash) : Lonely

Hiding his virgin (Julie) : Lonely

Shitty behaviour not marking route: Inc Hulk, Lonely, Perpetch, Plchard  (which stressed Prestressed who had been talking on the phone too long, caused by bewildered hashers).

 The Circle closed with a rousing Swing Slow, then all headedto hotels/home to get ready for Evening Party. Farty bum drove the beer toPrestressed home,  IH & haggis sat inthe back of the car, and as FB explained, ‘Padre would cum in the front’ (but he must have been very subtle about is as we did not notice any mess on thewindscreen).

SHW proposals were made, but held over to the Sunday Hair ofthe Dog run.