RIVIERA HASH TRASH 575
The Riviera Hash Websh!te:
Sign Up For Your Own Trash:
In Your Papier
set a run
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
The U.K. Nash Hash 28/08 – 31/08/08. Organised by Edinburgh HHH,
Marathon Bhutan, 7th September 2008
What a glorious day for a hash! And what a beautiful location! Sunshine, blue sky, sparkling sea, a bracing breeze, and rugged, red Esterel !
We wound our way along between rolling hills and trees of delicate spring green, from Napoule to Theoule to Le Trayas, marveling at the clarity of the directions being read out by our navigator. Surely they could have won a Pulitzer Prize compared to certain directions that have been inflicted on us in the past! Rounding a final bend, we spotted Cum Cum and Janet standing at the roadside. Waiting to point the way to the parking lot? No!! Waiting to punch in the code to open the GATE into the parking lot ! Our very own private parking lot! At last! How the hash has moved up in the world!
We think that Jobsworth should follow this example and install his own private gate with a code in the parking lot of the village of La Gaude before he holds his next hash there. It would be so much more chic and up-to-date.
We jumped out of the car and were nearly swept aloft by a gust of wind. Did I say "breeze"? Make that "hurricane-force Mistral". Definitely not a good hair day.
A large contingent of hashers - 37 in all - had turned out for this excellent run prepared by Cum Cum, Fly Me and Lindsay. Sucky Bruce had brought along two virgins, Prestressed had brought two more, and Lindsay had brought another one. Then Jos and Martin (who were virgins at Contessa's Italian run where the crazy lady sprayed us with her hose) were back, as well as Miles and Jennifer, who were virgins at Spare Rib's Easter run two weeks ago. Confusion and Two Cheeky were back from Inter-hash in Perth (but none of the others yet), and we had a first in hashing, I believe - the owner of the restaurant (virgin Margaret) did the entire trail with us while her underlings worked unsupervised in the restaurant kitchen, preparing our dinner. To finish off, Spunk Bubble and Ingun arrived late, just in time for the circle and the meal.
Dingus blew the whistle and the walkers were sent off first, for a change, crossing the road and turning down an obscure-looking alley between two buildings. The path twisted and turned its way downwards between private properties, and a few minutes later we were walking along jagged red Esterel rocks with the sea lapping near our feet. A stone staircase took us down onto the beach, where we walked across piles of dried-out seaweed. Before us was a gigantic stone wall which was the side of an overpass carrying the Esterel road over a gorge, and at the bottom of this gigantic wall was a small archway. We went through there into a tunnel under the road, and came out on the other side, where we immediately entered a narrow pathway through dense bush.
It was quite amazing, as the bush on either side of the path was like a vertical wall, with not a single branch sticking out to poke you in the eye or slap you on the mouth. I asked Cum Cum how she had managed to find this amazing trail, and she said it was Lindsay who showed it to them, as she lives right there and this is where she walks her dogs. The groundcover was jagged red shale, difficult to walk on, and this continued for the entire hash, so it was lucky C More Pussy was not with us, wearing flip-flops, or Disco Mike in his Sunday oxfords.
We followed this interesting, jungley, path as it twisted its way through the bush, and after awhile we heard the runners approaching from behind. I was the back walker, and at the very moment that I looked over my shoulder and saw Dingus behind me, a fork appeared in the trail, with a check. The walkers were all strung out single file before me on the left-hand branch, so I told Dingus to check out the right-hand path. Fortunately this turned out to be the correct one, and all the runners went crashing off that way, leaving us in peace on our section of the trail. Excellent timing by the hairs, I must say - keeping the runners in the parking lot for exactly the right number of minutes, thus allowing the walkers to get past the fork in the trail before the runners appeared.
After awhile we began to climb uphill on one of the regular Esterel trails, and before long we could see the runners way over on the other side of the valley, with their backs to us. They seemed to be heading over to the next valley, roughly in the direction of Poland, while we seemed to be heading more in the direction of Ireland. I wondered how we would ever meet up with them for the beer stop. Someone - forget who - claimed (without binoculars) to recognize Two Cheeky at the tail end of the runners, talking on her mobile phone.
We saw a procession of five horses descending a trail across from us on the other side of the valley, which made it feel a bit like we were in the Grand Canyon. Lower down, heading up towards the horses, was a very large party of walkers, moving pretty quickly. Jon announced that we were now 84 meters above sea-level.
At about 96 meters above sea-level we arrived at a ridge where our trail merged with the trail from the other side of the valley, and the large party of walkers we had seen arrived at this spot exactly at the same moment as us. For a moment there was a mingling of the two groups, and then, fortunately, they headed off on a trail to the right, and we took a path to the left. We were hoping that, in the confusion, none of the virgin hashers would accidentally wander off with the wrong group.
Our new path was no longer in the shelter of the valley, and as we started up we were nearly carried away by the raging Mistral. This path was also much steeper, and soon everybody was huffing and puffing and roasting with the exertion. In no time Jon announced that we were at 200 meters.
Finally we came out at a view stop (235 meters), where we had a gorgeous view of the Baie de Cannes, with its white cities lining the distant shore. All the people with dogs got out their dog dishes and poured water for their tired pooches. Then we started downhill, at last, and as soon as we started down we got onto a lovely shady trail through bush again, only this time, unlike on Lindsay's path, we were constantly being slapped in the face by swinging branches.
Next we came out onto a field of jagged rocks, where Skinny A was stepping very cautiously and asked us to pass in front of her, as she wanted to take her time and avoid breaking her neck. Then we got onto another downhill section, only this time it was much steeper, with smaller gravel that made it extremely slippery. Fortunately, there were quite a few slim trees to grab onto as we hurtled down. The virgin Linda told me later that she had slid all the way down one section of the trail on her rear end, and it was surely at this place.
We finally got to the bottom, arriving at the main road (just past Agay), which we crossed, bringing us to the beer stop. Here we found the runners. Contessa and Two Cheeky were sprawled out on a blanket in the sunshine, and others were wandering around by the rocky shoreline. Pedo sliced up some of Virgin Mouth's yummy Dundee cake which was left over from Jobsworth's run, and everybody did the usual beer-stop guzzling and yapping.
The second half of the trail started out with us re-tracing our steps, until we got to the place where we had come off the slippery, steep descent, and then instead of going back up we continued straight ahead, and the whole way back was on the flat, though we walked round several hairpin curves. Then we walked through the archway under the road again, and came back out onto the beach of dried-up seaweed, where the five horses and their riders were resting, with their saddles littering up the beach. Back up the stone staircase, along the jagged rocky shoreline, back up the path between the private properties, and across the road to our private parking lot. Where it was extremely windy. Several people tried to find shelter from the blast, but the only sheltered spots were in the shade, so most people ended up preferring to stay in the sunshine and raging wind.
Hares: Cum Cum, Fly Me & Lindsay (but Lindsay was absent, taking her dog home)
Latecomers: Spunk Bubble & Ingun
Going to Australia to avoid Spare Rib's Easter run: Confusion & Two Cheeky
Latecomer hare: Lindsay (back from taking her dog home) with her special China Tits mug
Lost on own trail: Lindsay (not sure where, or for how long - probably just a few seconds)
Lost hat: Mad Max (carried away by the wind, I think)
Cell phone abuse: Miles & Jos
Lost red thread found in the bush: Dingus (since it matched the red stripe on his track pants)
Returners: Martin & Jos, Madame Mooton, Tosspot, Spunk Bubble & Ingun, Confusion & Two Cheeky
Virgins: Tamara & Jordan, Brigitte & Annick, Linda (but Linda was missing; she was later re-discovered in the restaurant) Also Margaret, but she didn't stay for the circle, having work to do in the restaurant
There was a moment during the circle when Skinny A was being pretty recklessly mouthy about something, forget what, and I greatly feared she would be nominated for shit of the week again. (She won it last time, remember.) Fortunately for her, Sneaky Bastard removed all danger of her getting it, with reckless behaviour of his own.
Confusion donated her Perth Inter-hash hat to raise funds for the hash. Auctioneer Pedo suggested that Mad Max should open the bidding, since he had lost his own hat on the trail. Mad Max bid fifty centimes. Someone upped this to one euro, and then someone else bid one fifty. Then Sneaky Bastard rashly declared that he would bid five euros on condition that he not be elected shit of the week. This immediately caused chaos in the market. Martin shouted out, "25 euros!", Jon upped this to 30 euros, and Martin came back with 31. Going once, going twice, going three times. Sold to Martin South for 31 euros.
SHIT OF THE WEEK:
Sneaky Bastard for trying to interfere in democracy and the integrity of the marketplace.
Dingus for speaking to one of the French virgins in the wrong tense. (Dingus preferred to interpret this as speaking to a virgin about tents, which he denied doing.)
First Round of Voting: Loud shouting for Dingus, loud shouting for Sneaky Bastard
Second Round of Voting: Farty Bum suggested they reverse the order of voting. This time there was loud shouting for Sneaky Bastard, and dead silence for Dingus.
Here endeth the lesson for today.
Thank-you Cum Cum, Fly Me and Lindsay for an excellent run.
Also see the Receeding Hare Line!