RIVIERA HASH TRASH 25th Anniversary
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R*N REPORT 723
WALKERS' REPORT 723
R*N REPORT 724
Miss N.E. Thyne - Goode
R*N REPORT 725
50 Shades of Smut
Hash directions should go firstname.lastname@example.org
Have your say-got an opinion? Give it to me and I'll publish and be dammed
Hares Saddle Sniffer and Rubber Maid
Scribe Tidal Dave.
We were called to assemble early for this exceptional Saturday run in the Hi-De-Hi camp at the eastern edge of the Esterel hills. The large concentration of alcoholic beverages placed within staggering distance of hoard of Hashers, otherwise known as the 'Always Open Bar' was the place to be from 13.00 hours on the day BEFORE St. Patrick's Day. Clearly our visiting Irish friends must have been suffering from jetlag, or had mistakenly changed their watches by 24 hours instead of 1 as they were already in full Paddy Day uniforms.
As the Hashers wandered in in drabs and droves, the early arrivers were tucking into the aforementioned beverages, chips, peanuts etc, almost without concern for the grueling test ahead.
Finally, against all the odds, some semblance of order was established at around 14.30 hours and the cry of ON ON sent us on our way.
First we passed the mini Romania versus Poland football match/brawl that was taking place in the camps sports ground. Then out of the gate we swung left as all experienced hashes always assume the worst and thought we would be traversing the Esterel for a beer stop in Toulon. Luckily we were saved by a cross and headed back towards civilisation.
Once back to the main road we cantered up the hill and into the forest on the left. The pace slowed significantly and our thoughts turned to conversation, jokes and general mumblings. On attaining the summit of the first peak, and presented with a check, several Hashers went right following Boobs and Just Jen along the trail. They were however surprised to see Boobs and Jen clearly run through a cross mentioning something about 'it is obvious we are going to the top of the hill'. After several seconds reflection on the ethics of crossing crosses, the remainder of the pack accepted their fate and returned to the check. From here it appeared the trail went back down the first peak, this time the more direct route. Abseiling equipment would not have been out of place, but being seasoned mountain goats, the Hashers generally managed to stay on their feet, or tread on others feet, on the way down.
At the bottom, we started running around the side of the mountain perilously close to the IN trail. As it turned out, so close in fact that inevitably, at the first check encountered, given the choice of going up or down, we headed down and did indeed start running the wrong way along the IN trail. We quickly became confused (not unusual) as all roads seemed to lead to a cross. So we decided that perhaps we should have gone up instead of down at the last check.
We all climbed back up for what felt like the 10th time, and regained the correct trail, or so we thought. This also turned out to be a false trail, and thinking we had checked all directions, we were like a bunch of sheep who's Shepherd had eloped with Little Bo Peep. Just then, as if by magic, or more likely out of frustration, our Shepherd (Padre) returned and called us from above, his words drifting on the wind 'you're on the wrong trial'. Given the choice of zigzagging up the multitude of paths to re-join the 'right' trail, or just bashing up through the bush, each Hasher made their choice depending on energy levels and what state they wanted their legs to be in when they got there.
The trail was pretty much directly up the hill, past some silo and out onto the summit by the viewing platform. The view was splendid (for those who knew what was behind the clouds) and it gave you a moment to catch your breath before heading down the other side of the mountain, past a ruined church or Nazi bunker depending on your take of history and on down what looked like an old roman road to the back of a housing estate. Here one last check was in place to fool those with a thirst before finally arriving at the beer stop.
The walkers appeared to have been waiting a while and the runners came in from all directions over the course of the next few minutes. Boobs, not having brought his latex suit, decide to improvise the look by donning a bin bag, lord knows why. Perpetual Motion tried some improvised recruitment/chatting up when two, lovely, young joggers, of the female variety, by chance or misfortune, happened to run past us all at the beer stop. He ran after them and muttered something into the ear of the slowest. She quickly became the fastest and they were never seen again. With the last runner barely in, we were off again heading down into the suburbs of La Napoule frightening the few locals who had ventured out with cries of ON ON. One Hasher (?)(No Grappa?) had a momentary lapse of concentration and ended up leaving a trail of her own, in brown smelly stuff, an occupational hazard in these parts. We headed down under the railway and across the road to the beach. Not temped to take a dip in the frigid looking med, we ran around the front of the Chateau de La Napoule and past the port disturbing those taking an afternoon café in one of the many bars. In desperate need of a check to give us an excuse to stop, we didn't find one, and were lead back across the road, by the canal, under the railway, past the Boule courts and back towards the mountain we had originally crossed. Due to the absence of checks, the runners were now very spread out.
Once we were back at the foot of the mountain, the FRBs (Boobs, Just Jen, Kean Knickers and Tidal Dave) suffered the inverse of the out route by getting confused as to which was the correct trail back, and ended up climbing half the mountain again. Those with little morals of energy (Cumalot et al) decided to just run along the side of the road and back into the Hi-De-Hi camp and the AOB.
Once all and sundry were reassembled, a short circle was convened before the evening's festivities.
Hares; Rubbermaid & Saddle Sniffer
Hare Consultant: Padre
from Belfast: Lost Deposit and Down Under Chunder
from Dublin: Wedgie and Joy Rider, Markus Skiddius, Shit Stirrer, Polly, Pubic Hairdresser and Keen Knickers
from France now, but previously Sudan, Ghana, Ethiopia,
Lagos etc: Sunshine (plus her husband Olivier (great dancer) who came to the dinner and disco)
from UK: Flash 'er
Returners: I Like Your Boobs, Skinny Ah So, Idyl, Archiballs & Whingey la Pooh, Lois, Gorgeous Edna & Val, No Satisfaction and Little Pinkie
Mugless: Fairy Plunger, No Satisfaction, Tosspot, Idyl, Scriptease
Lost Property (fifty shades of grey scarf): Unclaimed
Lost property (shamrock) and reading Glamour magazine: Keen Knickers
Not knowing how to spell On-On: Shit Stirrer
(Down-downs cut short due to time shortage before dinner)
With the circle closed, the Hashers retired to their various places of abode to wash and change before reconvening for Champers and rugby at the AOB. From there it was off to the restaurant for a night of food, wine, dancing and any other business!
(Who was involved with the, "Any other business", then?
I have my suspicions ! Ed.)
Hares; Cum Cum, Dancing Scrubber and Fly Me.
Scribe: Miss N.E. Thyne - Goode
This nation was built by men who took risks -
pioneers who were not afraid of the wilderness,
business men who were not afraid of failure, scientists
who were not afraid of the truth, thinkers who were
not afraid of progress, dreamers who were not afraid of action."
This Hash was run by men who took risks-
Hashers who were not afraid of the wilderness,
(If it has a beer stop)
Hashers who were not afraid of failure, Hashers
who were not afraid of telling lies, stinkers not afraid
of wearing their old running kit to progress, dreamers
who were not afraid of inaction.
I have been asked to write the report for this run and because we had a large contingent of Irish present I shall refrain from making the expected Irish jokes.
So let me introduce you to Sharon O'Driscol and Tracey Gerahty.
Two girls from Essex married to two Irish men.
Sharon called Ryanair to book the flight down.
The operator asked her how many people were flying with her.
Sharon replied, "I don't know! It's your bloody plane!"
And Tracey asked for an aisle seat so that her hair wouldn't get messed up by being near the window.
What a surprise to see so many keen Hashers ready to go so early in the morning.
Was it because many had an early start the day before and were all in bed by the unheard of time 0100hrs.?
(Except for the usual suspects.)
Or was it the sales pitch the Hares had delivered the night before regarding the scenic vistas and the promise that the rain would stop on time?
Actually the rain was a little late in ceasing but there was sufficient provisions nearby to fulfill the basic requirement of Hashing, which is to always have a beer to hand.
Or was it the thought of Paedophil's promise to supply two of the five a day required for a healthy diet, omitting to tell every one that they were contained in the Fruit Cocktail, with an ample supply of rum to dilute the sudden shock to the system?
Because of the overnight rain Padre was given the task of tail gunning, marking the trail as he went, for the stragglers.
However, the Hares, unusually for Blondes, had actually made provision for the probability of overnight rain and had positioned the flour marking accordingly which meant the trail was relatively easy to follow.
That is unless you are called I Like Your Boobs who seemed to want to find his own trails.
Jen N.N. had received numerous warning about his desire to lure virgins deep into the undergrowth but she still followed him. On the Saturday run he lured her on a three km. detour where there was no flour.
And today, Sunday, she was still gullible enough to follow him again. What is going on here?
Is she really a blonde in disguise?
Maybe it is because women are like cow pats.
The older they are the easier they are to pick up.
Out of the complex following yesterdays flour, up past the cemetery and then sharp turn into the wild foothills of the Esterell for the runners and straight on for the walkers, taking a gently amble down to the beach and along the coastal path to the port.
The runners climbed, steadily, until about half way up the hill, the trail then followed the contour away from the open country and out onto the road.
Here the front runners are convinced the trail must continue up to the top and proceed to run both of the cunningly laid false trails, coming back down to the check just in time to see Billy Elliot and Pubic Hare Dresser disappearing down a little side path.
This is the point where Prestressed demonstrated his prowess at the Olymprick sport of the Luge. Unfortunately, for him, the Luge sled was nowhere to be seen but it was certainly an impressive turn of speed as he overtook one or two of us sliding on his ass.
Talking of the Olympics
Sharon and Tracey's claim to fame was they were able to compete in the Irish Olympic Synchronised Swimming Team, qualifying due to their marriage, but were asked to leave as they were always arguing.
Sharon kept accusing Tracey of copying her.
Now the runners are on the walkers trail, rapidly catching them up and just as the last runner manages to overtake all the walkers they are given a huge shortcut to have them back in the lead once more. Such an unfair world.
And that is not all that is unfair:
When a man talks dirty to a woman it's considered sexual harassment.
When a woman talks dirty to a man it's £2.50/min (charges may vary).(if that's the going rate, I need to put my prices up! - Ed)
A long detour down at the port area took the runners up the beautiful valley with wonderful splashes of Mimosa colouring the verdant hillsides.
I do not know if our virgin Marathon Man was able to appreciate this spectacular show put on by mother nature as he was so far ahead by now, being challenged by Perpetual Motion, Polly, Markus Skidus and a few others to see who would find the cross first.
The trail next takes us through the ancient chateau and onto the hillside where once more the runners catch up with the walkers and start to overtake them.
Once more Jen.N.N. follows Boobs the wrong way.
When will she learn or is she stalking him?
Jen N.N. texting; "I luv u".
Reply; "I luv u2".
Jen N.N. " Awe really :))".
Reply, " Yea, they r my fav. band".
Jen "You asshole".
Reply; "Hey chill, I was kidding, they aren't really"
A steady climb to the top and all the runners go the wrong way at the check and once again the slower runners are at the front of the Pack.
A beautiful trail along the ridge follows, for all except, I like your Boobs who once more tries to entice Jen N.N. to go off piste with him.
She finally caught on and left him to go on his own.
From here it was a good stretch of the legs with a 2 ish km. gentle, downhill, run in, to the A.O.B.
Social intercourse followed for a considerable amount of time, waiting for Shit Stirrer and Lost Deposit, and then the circle commenced, but not bothered by the missing Hashers.
Down Downs awarded to;
As a prelude Jennifer, (The Cougar) was given her award as Shit of The Week, held over from a previous run due to an administrative error.
Hares; Cum Cum, Dancing Scrubber and Fly Me.
Commemorative patches awarded to all our visitors; Pubic Hare Dresser, Markus Skidus, Lost Deposit, Wedgie, Joy Rider, Chunder down Under, Polly, Keen Knickers.
Visitors; from Salsomaggiore, Tutti Frutti and Flash 'er from Sussex.
Weather forecasting; Cum Cum
Cabaret; Tutti Frutti
It was at this point that Shit Stirrer and Lost Deposit finally arrived back home and given a D.D. for being so far behind even the slowest walker.
Commemorative bottle of Grappa awarded to C.D.U. and Lost Deposit for hosting the Always Open Bar.
A big thank you from all of us for that.
Virgins; Oliver, Francisco, Marco, Nik, Sharon.
Shit of the week nominations; Flash 'er for not living up to his name and us showing his "Craic", look it up ! (pronounced Crack)
No Grappa for standing in a large dog turd, spreading it around and trying to blame it on somebody else.
Plus a few others, sorry but I can not remember them all.
And the winner by a democratic vote.
I Like Your Boobs, for stalking, leading inexperienced runners off trail, and short cutting,(even if he ended up running much further than if he stayed on trail.)
His award was administered by Virgin Sharon N.N.
The circle was then closed with a rousing rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot as tradition demands.
Sharon strode angrily into the large store and slapped a package on the counter, and loudly expressed her dissatisfaction. The clerk asked, "What's the problem? Wouldn't your cat eat them?" Sharon's eyes got very large, and she whispered, "Do you mean to tell me that 'Pussy Treats' are meant for 'cats'?
Scribe Little Pinkie
DUBLIN / BELFAST HASH ON TOUR IN NICE
With the storm clouds gathering around Nice, aching limbs from the weekend's celebrations, and SNCF deciding not to send trains to Nice, a small but intimate group joined up with our friends from Dublin and Belfast for, unusually on the Riviera, a Monday night hash.
Our hare Polly warmed up by hiking from Eze Village down to the coast and back to Nice, setting the trail on his way back. Somewhat cocky some would say.
Wedgie and Joy Rider welcomed us to the famous Snug, and before the off our resident photographer, Shit Stirrer, eventually managed to work a collection of photographic devices to record the moment, and usually his thumb.
So off we trotted into the atmospheric Old Town streets, Marcus Skiddius leading the charge, and Paedophil following as our nominal walker resplendent in leather jacket and flowing white scarf, reminiscent of the Red Baron, and attracting admiring glances from some of Nice's metrosexual finest.
Through the flower market, around the headland and towards the port, but not after a bout of confusion saw the early end of Sadist last seen heading back toward the welcoming Snug. Marcus Skiddius thought he had spotted a port side short cut, only to be thwarted by a firmly shut iron gate, but then impressively limbo danced his way underneath, no doubt to the delight of the CCTV watchers.
Back now around the base of the chateau and heading for home, the runners ominously directed up the chateau steps, to be reprieved by another firmly shut gate. A few more twists and turns and the warm glow of the Snug was in sight.
A circle formed outside, blocking access for bemused looking locals. Paedophil conducted proceedings, and as far as I can remember the following down downs were awarded...
Padre Being late, missing the hash and leaving the circle.
Sadist Getting lost and fancying an early beer.
Marcus Skiddius Ridiculous limbo dance.
Keen Knickers and PHD Blatant voyeurism (see below).
Shit Stirrer For shit stirring.
Little Pinkie After establishing he could write, scribe.
Long and Hard Apparently for being Romanian and leading the invasion.
Paedophil Gave himself one because he was thirsty.
Wedgie Unanimously voted SOW, for poor etiquette, using non hash names.
Inside Wedgie and Joy Rider had kindly provided an excellent stew, for some reason only consumed by the males.The women had obviously eaten too much meat over the weekend, so Confusion led them off for vegetarian sustenance. Padre who had finally arrived liked it so much he eat it twice.
Polyandra arrived late, and explained that although she was unable to come, she would give us all a good time in her Nice apartment next time. We look forward to that.
Keen Knickers and Pubic Hare Dresser appeared to be a little traumatised by a sighting earlier on the beach of, and I quote, "An 80 year old fanny", and no it wasn't Shit Stirrer.
Granted probably not a pretty sight, but you have to think they were probably looking.
Final arrival was No Satisfaction, who claimed to have been detained "On corporate business". Surely a down down to be carried forward.
A fine evening was had by all, an open mike session commenced downstairs, and thankfully no Hashers tried their luck.
Great to see you again Dublin and Belfast, and thanks again for the usual superb Snug hospitality!
And many thanks for making the effort to join in and help us celebrate 25 years of doing it on the Riviera.
Lundy Island 9-11 August 2013
UK Nash Hash 23-26 August 2013
Corsica 2013. 25th-29th September
Website under construction. In the meantime address your questions to Sadist
Try this link to find information regarding the Belgium Interhash bid for 2014.
Book early and obtain a good price. (If they win the bid)
To see what world hash events are coming up, check out this website:
Also see the Receeding Hare Line!
R*n 726: NEXT HASH 31-Mar
Le Broc (circle behind Moulin à Huile as you enter village) : Meet at 15 h 00 for 15 h 30. Being Easter Sunday restaurants will be full of grannies, kids and usual time wasters, so the restaurant is booked for 18.30. Numbes not essential, but useful if more than 30 ! So please email me if you're staying for food. Easter run will also feature the traditional Easter Egg Hunt, at which Padre usually scoffs the lot and makes the kids cry !