Scribe: Jaws taking the bullet for NFG Lidia (sic?)
Hash #861
Hares: Baldric
Hashers: Jaws, St Anus, Smokey Donkey, Beatrice, Sex Tax, Pussy
Willow, NFG Lydia, Eagle Eye, Mama Eagle Eye, Papa Eagle Eye, Giving
Head
The Orange Man, as he was appropriately renamed for the day, had found his playmate for the day and so he was happy although she was mentally more advanced than him as she was only aged 3.5. But she was happy to humour the Orange Man, alias St Anus, throughout the hash with her shouts of 'On On', often echoed by the Orange Man. It was suggested she called him that because of the colour of his shirt, but I think it was more to do with his complexion....
We had tried to gather at the regular meeting point in Batthyany ter, but were displaced a hundred meters or thereabouts because our territory had been reclaimed by the 'Red Bull Air Race' tents, set up so a few people could feel important and privileged to watch the race from the comforts of the hospitality tents, and others could be succoured into buying tickets to enter the cordoned off zone by the Danube, so they too could feel privileged. Apologies for anyone who came and did not find the hash group, but rather predictably the mismanagement failed to anticipate this problem. Nevertheless, a couple of hares did make the effort to go around looking for any prospective lost souls, but came back empty handed. The last to arrive was NFG Lydia, but for some unknown reason St Anus actively talked her out of being the scribe...go figure. And as I was last before her, it somehow fell upon me to scribble this trash, without being advised of
it!!
So the plan was to take a replacement bus up to Gellert (as the tram was obviously not working due to the air race) which departed from Batthyany ter. We waited for about 20 minutes when a bus appeared. And alas it seems just at that time NFG Lydia had decided to go looking for some water, so off went all of us on the bus whilst Baldric stayed behind and went looking for her, hoping to catch the next bus. This meant, you guessed it, the rest of us ended up waiting for the Hare at the Gellert.
Finally the trail began. Up from the Gellert Hotel and up and up and up and on and on and on, winding all the way to the Citadel, which as it turns out was only for the benefit of the runners. Whilst the runners waited at the top for the walkers to catch up, Baldric appeared and informed us we had to retrace the route back down again to catch up with the walkers. Then he recognised a celebrity Brit who we were watching being filmed at the Citadel making a TV programme, or covering the race for the UK TV. Baldric was convinced it was 'the famous British Olympic rower'.
Excitement over, we continued the trail on to the castle where the freshly uncovered ruins were now openly displayed for all to see. It was certainly busy and all the more so as there were some 'exhibitions' around the place. I suspect a lot of people were laughing at us or perhaps were confusing us with the 'exhibits' or 'processions' as we shouted out 'on on!'. Or perhaps they though we were just a plain stupid rabble. Nevertheless, we wound our way through the crowds and had a brief stop for refreshments at one of the outside stalls. Finally, zig zagging past the Fishermans Bastion and through the main street on down in the general direction of Batthyany ter. The runners then decided to have a beer stop at a local café, perhaps because I had remarked earlier how we had run past so many cafes / bars already without a beer stop. Alas, Baldric shouted out to NFG Lydia and me, who were leading the pack by now, to turn back to join them. He then called the walkers to advise them of his new scheme, but only to be told that the walkers were already at the end point; they had decide to take a short cut.
So another proper beer stop missed and off we went back to Batthyany ter. At the starting point. But of course logically one would have expected the walkers to be waiting there, but no. They had decided to wait at a different location along with a load of other common drunks by the toilets, and just waited for the runners to find them!
The down-down was held just there. The usual trash, and one naming of what must be the youngest Hasher in the world; St Anus's new found friend. She was duly christened 'Eagle Eye'. I then pointed out that as it was St Anus's birthday (which he had kept quiet about), he should be buying everyone a drink. But that came to nothing, and indeed he even failed to announce that all were welcome to his party at the Sark Bar on Margit-sziget that night.
The afternoon was finally concluded by a lunch at a local restaurant in Batthyany ter. Then followed, by now the familiar sight of Baldric tempting other hashers to another drinking session after lunch. He succeeded in persuading Jaws and Giving Head, without much effort, who went on to a rather decent Belgian Bar overlooking the Danube, with a good view of the air race. Front row seats with a good view, no entry tickets and beer of upto 9% proof! Great except for the extremely loud tannoy across the road from the bar, blaring out some incomprehensible commentary of the race, which we felt like shutting up somehow, and which seemed to continue even after the race had ended and the crowds had dispersed! But shut up it eventually did.....
Eventually, Baldric and I headed off to the Sark Bar to St Anus' party, whilst Giving Head went home sulking. The party seemed to be a rather civilized affair of just a few people sitting and drinking, until it started to rain a little. At which point Baldric and I decided to head for the last tram, and just as we left one of the worst thunderstorms hit Budapest, and so we ended up fighting gushing torrents of water, strong wind, and hailstones. Completely soaked to the skin, we succeeded in catching the last tram. And so ended another normal hash. The whole day was up, up, up, up, and up, and on, on, on, and on, and down, down, down, down, down, down, and down, and down.....to the last drop.
Hash #861
Hares: Baldric
Hashers: Jaws, St Anus, Smokey Donkey, Beatrice, Sex Tax, Pussy
Willow, NFG Lydia, Eagle Eye, Mama Eagle Eye, Papa Eagle Eye, Giving
Head
The Orange Man, as he was appropriately renamed for the day, had found his playmate for the day and so he was happy although she was mentally more advanced than him as she was only aged 3.5. But she was happy to humour the Orange Man, alias St Anus, throughout the hash with her shouts of 'On On', often echoed by the Orange Man. It was suggested she called him that because of the colour of his shirt, but I think it was more to do with his complexion....
We had tried to gather at the regular meeting point in Batthyany ter, but were displaced a hundred meters or thereabouts because our territory had been reclaimed by the 'Red Bull Air Race' tents, set up so a few people could feel important and privileged to watch the race from the comforts of the hospitality tents, and others could be succoured into buying tickets to enter the cordoned off zone by the Danube, so they too could feel privileged. Apologies for anyone who came and did not find the hash group, but rather predictably the mismanagement failed to anticipate this problem. Nevertheless, a couple of hares did make the effort to go around looking for any prospective lost souls, but came back empty handed. The last to arrive was NFG Lydia, but for some unknown reason St Anus actively talked her out of being the scribe...go figure. And as I was last before her, it somehow fell upon me to scribble this trash, without being advised of
it!!
So the plan was to take a replacement bus up to Gellert (as the tram was obviously not working due to the air race) which departed from Batthyany ter. We waited for about 20 minutes when a bus appeared. And alas it seems just at that time NFG Lydia had decided to go looking for some water, so off went all of us on the bus whilst Baldric stayed behind and went looking for her, hoping to catch the next bus. This meant, you guessed it, the rest of us ended up waiting for the Hare at the Gellert.
Finally the trail began. Up from the Gellert Hotel and up and up and up and on and on and on, winding all the way to the Citadel, which as it turns out was only for the benefit of the runners. Whilst the runners waited at the top for the walkers to catch up, Baldric appeared and informed us we had to retrace the route back down again to catch up with the walkers. Then he recognised a celebrity Brit who we were watching being filmed at the Citadel making a TV programme, or covering the race for the UK TV. Baldric was convinced it was 'the famous British Olympic rower'.
Excitement over, we continued the trail on to the castle where the freshly uncovered ruins were now openly displayed for all to see. It was certainly busy and all the more so as there were some 'exhibitions' around the place. I suspect a lot of people were laughing at us or perhaps were confusing us with the 'exhibits' or 'processions' as we shouted out 'on on!'. Or perhaps they though we were just a plain stupid rabble. Nevertheless, we wound our way through the crowds and had a brief stop for refreshments at one of the outside stalls. Finally, zig zagging past the Fishermans Bastion and through the main street on down in the general direction of Batthyany ter. The runners then decided to have a beer stop at a local café, perhaps because I had remarked earlier how we had run past so many cafes / bars already without a beer stop. Alas, Baldric shouted out to NFG Lydia and me, who were leading the pack by now, to turn back to join them. He then called the walkers to advise them of his new scheme, but only to be told that the walkers were already at the end point; they had decide to take a short cut.
So another proper beer stop missed and off we went back to Batthyany ter. At the starting point. But of course logically one would have expected the walkers to be waiting there, but no. They had decided to wait at a different location along with a load of other common drunks by the toilets, and just waited for the runners to find them!
The down-down was held just there. The usual trash, and one naming of what must be the youngest Hasher in the world; St Anus's new found friend. She was duly christened 'Eagle Eye'. I then pointed out that as it was St Anus's birthday (which he had kept quiet about), he should be buying everyone a drink. But that came to nothing, and indeed he even failed to announce that all were welcome to his party at the Sark Bar on Margit-sziget that night.
The afternoon was finally concluded by a lunch at a local restaurant in Batthyany ter. Then followed, by now the familiar sight of Baldric tempting other hashers to another drinking session after lunch. He succeeded in persuading Jaws and Giving Head, without much effort, who went on to a rather decent Belgian Bar overlooking the Danube, with a good view of the air race. Front row seats with a good view, no entry tickets and beer of upto 9% proof! Great except for the extremely loud tannoy across the road from the bar, blaring out some incomprehensible commentary of the race, which we felt like shutting up somehow, and which seemed to continue even after the race had ended and the crowds had dispersed! But shut up it eventually did.....
Eventually, Baldric and I headed off to the Sark Bar to St Anus' party, whilst Giving Head went home sulking. The party seemed to be a rather civilized affair of just a few people sitting and drinking, until it started to rain a little. At which point Baldric and I decided to head for the last tram, and just as we left one of the worst thunderstorms hit Budapest, and so we ended up fighting gushing torrents of water, strong wind, and hailstones. Completely soaked to the skin, we succeeded in catching the last tram. And so ended another normal hash. The whole day was up, up, up, up, and up, and on, on, on, and on, and down, down, down, down, down, down, and down, and down.....to the last drop.
1 comment:
9% = 18 proof
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