Hash Gets Thrown Out Of Exclusive Restaurant – And Mama San's Ivories get tinkled!
The Hash met as usual opposite the parliament building where the local politicians spend their time working hard trying not to get caught being more dishonest or more corrupt than the other party. Unlike the Hashers who only think about sex and beer (not necessarily in that order).Our hare for the day, Run-by-Battery had set the trail in a quiet part of the
wooded hills where collecting the protected snow-drop flowers in spring is a common practice. This time of year, different sorts of flowers can be found (see Hulk's photos). So the 2 runners and 6 walkers set off in 3 cars, and eventually, around the route of the 157 bus we got to the starting place to park cars. St Anus found a nice flat bit one the dented part of Martin's X-Type Jag (a red one of course, more frequently known a Martin's Pussy Magnet) – so a camera was balanced to take a shot of the happy Hashers before they set off (some of them returned less happy than at the start - but more of that later).
We were warned, that due to lack of time and only one hare, there were a very limited number of checks…. We did not know just how limited this was…. But we were told there were no false trails, so this gave a clue..After a short distance on tarmac road, we were in the forest, a very nice bit of forest, with some of the tallest trees of the Buda hills – a very beautiful part. Strange that the name for the area is Devil's Crack (or Devil's Valley, or something like that…). A few blobs of flour told us we were on trail as the runners left the yacking walkers far behind, the trail ran
beside an almost dry river bed, but by the look of the trees and shattered branches in the bottom, when it rains heavily this is not a good place to be (that must explain the presence of the Devil here).After a kilometre or so, the trail went over the river-bed and up the other side, to a rocky cliff face with a romantic old cave, which probably had housed Neolithic cave men a few thousand years ago. The current residents seemed to be slightly less evolved than those hunter-gatherers – with an old dog kennel, a primitive chimney and some very grubby old clothes hanging up to dry. The cave was not quite as beautiful as it might be, so we decided not to wander in to look at the majestic interior, partly from fear of being chewed by some mangy hound (one hasher with her legs up recovering from canine wounds is enough!). Rabies living up to his name for avoiding dogs (probably preferring pussies) so we went around the front and up the steep slope, until it became obvious that we were not going to get anywhere this way (and there was no flour anyhow) so we went back down towards the river and back to the main path to continue along the blobs of flour.
It was one of the nicest areas in the Buda hills – really very peaceful with hardly any other walkers even on one of the nicest days of the year – it was good to be under the shade of these huge trees on such a hot day.
Then the blobs went over the river again and then up, up, up and further up. It was obvious that
those wimpy walkers were never going to come up this way. They normally chicken out at anything as steep as this (unless there is beer at the top). So the brave2 runners and running hare went on up to the top of one of the highest peaks in the Buda hills. Stopping near the top for some photos and to shout down to the walkers who seemed to be walking backwards and forwards in a disorganised way, as if they were lost. But the walkers saw us, so they changed direction and headed our way.We knew they were not going to climb more than a few meters of the hill before retiring injured or finding some excuse to give up, so there was no point waiting for them. So the runners continued running along the paths, with the intention of running down the other side of the hill, after the flour trail sort of died…. We thought that at the worst, we can get a bus back to the staring point with the cars, so there was no problem stretching out and having a good run. After a while, a wooden sign post told us that we had several choices, one of them had an ideogram (diagram for stupid people) telling us that a bus route was to the right – so that was what we needed – even Hashers understood this – so right it was. The path ran down, down, down (good for hashers!) – Rabies ran down slalom style, obviously missing the snow this time of year.
This was a good running section in spite of the lack of flour, eventually coming out into civilisation, and seeing a bus about to leave at the end of the road, just too far to get to it before it left. But, our fearless runners tracked down a local sales-man beside his car, who told us that if we took this road to the right, then took a left, then a right, then a straight on, and left and right where possible etc. , we would end up where we started. Rabies seemed to have some understanding of these instructions, so off we set.. It was not so difficult, and after asking once or twice more we neared our starting point. A hundred meters or so away from the start we found a nice little traditional beer & food establishment – useful for later we thought!
So reaching the cars, Rabies decided he needed a swim and personal services before the evening concert, so he left us to find a bus, an the hare and Hulk wandered off to find the walkers. About a kilometre or so into the woods, the walkers were found –the first ones were smiling and happy with a strenuous but satisfying walk. The other walkers approached with a little black cloud floating over the heads, on arrival, threats of slow death and ceremonial funerals for the hare were issued – probably because she had told them the walk was a nice flat one, but the walkers, led by St Anus, followed the runners up the hill ! As an innocent bystander – I would guess that St Anus was the one to blame as he was the one who took the others up the hill, but he seemed happy to leave the blame on Run by Battery (typical American).
Finally, after much debate, the hashers headed back to the cars, where the lack of beer prevented us having a circle… (a terrible crime for which some future punishment should be issued). A couple of Hashers, the Dyke and Martin, decided not to stop, and head back to town. All said sad good-byes to the Dyke, as she and BB will be leaving Budapest for good .
The remaining hashers wandered up the road to the little restaurant found by the runners. The 6 of us settled at a table up on the terrace in
the sunshine, expecting a menu etc to arrive. But this was not forthcoming, a slightly large, out of breath lady came to take our drinks order, but refused to discuss food, that being the job of "the boss" who we realised after was her husband. So we ordered drinks, and then the chef (the owner) came up with food for the only 2 other people in the establishment. The food looked very good, with large portions. He told us there was no menu, we needed to go down to stand in the road again, to see his sign for today – so down most of us went. This was when it got tough…Nora and Run-by-Battery did not want a big dinner se they asked to share a single meal. This was greeted with disbelief and horror by the chef – this was not permissible… Furthermore, it
was far to difficult to cook 6 meals if we ordered different things from the menu. So we were instructed to decide which meal we wanted, and he would make 6 the same. Unfortunately for him, we were hashers, and making a management decision to eat the same thing was beyond us. He did not appreciate the honest comments made, so he refused to even serve us beer !!!! This was too much for hashers – so after telling him where he might stick his restaurant, we headed back to the town centre. [We need to go back one day for a laugh!]. So back to Moscow Ter, to the favourite hole of St Anus, we were soon happily drinking end eating Goulash and other delicacies. Ending a happy outing for the active hashers… but not the end of the day!At 18:00 was a Bartok piano concert by nobody but out own Mama-san, in the house of Bartok himself… A lovely house (the American lady in front of us asked if Bartok was still living there – fortunately the answer was NO since spectral beings tend to put me off…) . Several Hashers attended the concert (many arriving late and having to creep in quietly). But all had a great time, we were universal in our praise for Mama San, who's digits were dashing up and down the ivories in an incredible way, a magnificent performance, so those who missed it really missed a fantastic event!
Congratulations Mama San – you were fantastic !!!
So ended another Hasher's Day – despite the lack of a circle, and not even a little rendition of Sweet Chariot, it was a day to remember! All those armchair Hashers who read this should know that shifting their back-ends down to Batthyany Ter Sunday at 11:30 will give you more than some exercise and a beer or two! So Get On Down!
OnOn!
Incredible Hulk
Here is a Link to IH's photos
Hare: Run By Batter
Pack: Rabies, Incredible Hulk, Dyke, 10 Minutes Late, Smokey Donkey, NFG Thomas, NFG Nora
1 comment:
I seem to remember it another way... I blamed no one for the mistake which was the walking group. The blobs were a bit confusing so I took the sheeple up the hill to the vantage point the runners saw us from.
I just walked and they bleated happily along until they realized we were actually being lead up a hill. At the end of the trek, when we rejoined, I made no complaints or cast blame, that was someone else's department.
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