Bali Hash House Harriers 2

Hash Trash Run #1369 Pura Mengening, Tampaksiring

Oh When The Saints…

St Monty, St. Tits and St. Zola (or could it be Xola?) who is not only the only female saint in this region but the only canonized female that is actually a dog, pulled off a huge one last Saturday for St. George’s (pronounced “whore hay’s”) Day at Tampaksiring. For those of you who didn’t come, and you know who you are, and so do we, I can only utter these sentiments: “Nya nya, nya nya nya” accompanied by rude gesticulations. As you know swearing and cursing is looked down upon in Bali Bali Hash House Harriers 2 so our message is: “you darners missed a really darning good run, so go and darn yourselves”. It may well have been the best darning run of the year if you darning well ask me.

Anyhow, many stalwarts did show up especially those of the persuasion in some parts of the world known as “Pommy”, but we extend consolations as they had no control over their place of birth (har), and at least I had the charity and forbearance to capitalize it (dee har). But I jest in a chuckling and guffawing manner. At one point later in the circle I think I counted at least a dozen natives of Albion giving full throat as it were to what, I may be wrong here, is their National Anthem, which, I think, has something to do with “England’s green and peasant land”? Give them credit though, they’re not there, are they? (Har). I don’t wish to get into air panas with our good chums from across the seas and as you know I have nothing but affection for the Royal Family, warm flat beer, frigid pork pies and Simon Cowell.

English skies, fortunately, prevailed last Saturday, thank Whore Hay and as one of the Angled Saxons observed pointing to the heavens “It looks like bloody Birmingham up there”. Lowering battleship grey monotone kept things mercifully cool. As well as it being a tremendously good run it was possibly one of the most arduous in living memory. Three runs had been announced by Hare Mount ‘n’ Groan: a 4k short short, a 6k medium and an 8k long, but by the time we had struggled and gasped our way down and up a massive and stunningly vast and beautiful valley and into the open emerald paddys, I faltered and finally pussied at the split for the short and medium.

Why break the habit of a lifetime? I rightly concluded that if I’d had to do another valley down and up I would have surely expired clutching at my chest and a fistful of grass, hyperventilating half way up a perfectly vertical valley wall. Nobody wants a dead little Aussie bleeder on their St Geo’s Hash, do they? What would they do with one? X?Zola was definitely peckish after Haring duties, so…I know what you’re thinking you macabre bastards but the rest of the sentence is: I gave her a chicken and boiled egg sandwich.

Please do not write in and inquire as to whether or not I am dead. I don’t wish to start an urban myth such as the one about Paul McCartney in the 60’s or Paul Keating in the 90’s (he wasn’t technically dead). Or the one about the “President” of the U.S. being chosen by some “electoral college”.

The circle contained many returning and notable English folk who had been conspicuous for long periods by their absinthe. Hashers such as Long and Strong and Chippie himself who warbled “These Foolish Things” (“A used French letter in a London taxi, a whiff of syphilis from a horse’s jacksie”). I love that song. Another little Aussie bleeder Gay Gordon (not his real persuasion) showed up after an extended period in Oz getting lost on golf courses.

It was a great run, a great circle and a great day, all round, about an 11 out of 10 at a conservative estimate. Those who didn’t think so can get darned.

See you at, and now for something completely different, Goa Gajah on Saturday for another run with the Best Hash in Bali ….. Bali Hash House Harriers 2 … 2 …. 2!

On on

The late J.B.

(Exhumed)

Photos Courtesy of Mila Stedronova