Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

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More Away R*ns

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«Away R*ns»

No More Cum at InterHash 2006

After a week of beer-drinking and no running at Eurohash last year, I was determined to make an effort this time. I had 10 days in Thailand, which is pretty short for me, but had a fairly tight schedule planned.

After arriving at the recently opened Suvarnabhumi airport, my destination was Pattaya by way of the Scandihooligans 200th run on Koh Si Chang island. I met a fellow hasher at the airport and shared his cab for the 80 minute drive to Si Racha, where he dropped me off before continuing his journey to Pattaya. As I descended the steps on the other side of the highway, I was immediately picked up by a local taxi and whisked off to the ferry terminal for the princely sum of about £1.50. The ferry left 10 minutes later, the ride took 40 minutes and cost 65p. Once on the island, I took a motorbike taxi, which dropped me on the required beach. It was by now about 1530. I began to recognise the familiar silhouettes of my friends and had soon removed most of my clothes and joined them in the water, where cans of iced beer were available from floating polystyrene coolers. I was home. I had missed the run, but had come just in time for the circle and festivities.

At about 2200, we all boarded a hired ferry bound for Pattaya. There was food on board, I was told, but by this time I had left the planet and had crashed out on the deck with my rucksack still on my back. Mad Hatter stood guard, I’m told, to ward off would-be intruders. I woke up in Pattaya lying on the beach wall, still with my rucksack attached, but smiling in the knowledge of where I was. I had no recollection of the journey whatsoever, but had apparently fallen feet-first down some steps and knocked a window out with my rucksack! A quick call on the mobile confirmed where my hotel was and within 30 minutes I was changed and out in my city by the sea.

After the Scandihooligans’ pre-amble on the Saturday, Sunday was the turn of the Pattaya Jungle H3. It was very same-same to me as a Pattaya hasher, but must have been fun for the visitors. It was more like a Pattaya Monday run with between 100 and 200 hashers. The circle was made interesting by the opportunities given to visiting performers to strut their stuff. Once we had got back into town, there was still plenty of time left to do some go-go bars and such-like. Such-like ended at about 0600 for me and I still wanted to get my hair cut before going on the Monday run.

Monday is a traditional hashing day in this part of the world and Pattaya is no exception. The Monday hash begat all the other hashes here and is the best attended in Thailand. There are rarely less than 100 hashers and in high-season around 200 or more. The runs are sometimes as short as 40 mins for the FRBs, but the circles are 60 to 90 minutes long with almost as much social time before it even gets going. This one was bolstered by Interhashers and fairly lively. Of course, once the multi-coloured hash bus got back into town, there was still plenty of time to party on surrounded by the ubiquitous, quivering brown flesh.

Tuesday was a transit day and, after checking out of various hotels, the Scandihooligan team met up around noon at the Wonderful II beer bar. We were bound for Bangkok in preparation for our train ride up north and that meant a few beers. As we thought it might be a bit dangerous for us up in the wilds around Chiang Mai, Scar with 2 Ts (GM) had decided that bodyguards were in order. By Tuesday dinnertime, the hiring process was complete and they were all suitably dressed in identical chauvinist gear. In 2 hrs, we had reached Noriega’s bar in Bangkok, where we took on food and refreshment and rubbed shoulders with normal hashers doing some sort of charity run before heading north. By 2000, we were on the sleeper complete with our own supply of iced beer for the night and waitress service – priceless! The Scandihooligans Bodyguard Train Tour was rumbling.

CUMH3 or the Chiang Mai Underground Men’s H3 had staged our run for the day, which turned out to be a well-attended uphill/downhill affair, followed by a long circle with plenty of ice time. The night-time was spent sampling the Chiang Mai nightlife, which I found a bit tame after Pattaya.

Thursday was dominated by that Pattaya hash we don’t talk about and included plenty of everything.

Having done the Bangkok Friday Thinking Drinking H3 run in Cardiff, I decided to do something different this time and opted for the Hamersley Men’s H3 run around town. They are a notoriously wild bunch from Perth and I wanted to see what they could offer. For about £14, we got a T-shirt, food and as much beer as you could drink. The best bit was the circle, which gave a number of frustrated, western girls the opportunity/excuse to exhibit themselves and us blokes the chance to show our raucous appreciation. Most heads were turned, however, by the appearance of about a dozen identically dressed bodyguards doing our fetching and carrying. What began as an afternoon party became an evening swill as we headed for the main event venue. We were concerned whether our minders would get in, but need not have worried. Once we had pointed out the Bodyguard logo on their tops, the officials were almost apologetic that they had questioned the lack of wristbands – this is Thailand! Jovialities at the venue finished quite early, though it had given me time to bump into the Septics, Thunder Dick and Bedside Manner. We carried on in town until the early hours, but I was going to regret this very soon!

I only realised that Saturday had arrived as I struggled to get my watch the right way up and found it was already 1100 – shit, I was supposed to be on the bus to do the……wait for it…….BALLBREAKER!!! at 1200. I somehow managed to race across town in a taxi, sweat pouring from me by now and got on the bus for 1205. I could have taken it easier, as the bus didn’t leave until 1240. I managed to get 4 bottles of water into my Camelbak and knew that I could survive. I also knew that dehydrated and without breakfast meant tough. If I had realised how tough, I wouldn’t have started. The endless 12km long climb uphill was only appeased by the shade offered by the trees and I experienced the strange phenomenon of drinking colder water from the tube than was in the pack itself. I was drenched in cold sweat all the way and while my head was pounding on the steep sections, my legs were too much like jelly to take advantage of the few flat bits. Three cans of pop at the top gave me some sugar to burn, while 3 bottles of water topped my pack back up. Downhill was a doddle in comparison to the way up. I had to get a taxi back into town, as this nanny-hash had already decided what was best for me, but sharing it with Panadol from Nigeria was a real pleasure. After the quick three Ss at the hotel, it was back to the venue for lubrication. I bumped into Hash Drunk and Pick-Me-Up early on before the night followed the usual course and we all ended up back at the Hash Bar in town.

If the week had been hectic so far, the worst was yet to come. Sunday has become a tradition for the Accrington Ferret H3 at Interhash. This is a hash organised by a certain Little Tommy Two Lips from Accrington, but its home is the TQ a-go-go bar in Pattaya. It tends to involve little or no running, but plenty of weird drinking rituals. This one involved melons soaked overnight in vodka (one bottle to each melon) and punch for down-downs. Now I know why they call it punch – each bowl got one bottle of vodka, one of Thai whiskey and one of Lao rice whiskey. To temper this somewhat, 6 small cans of pop were added together with orange slices for effect. It didn’t taste so bad, but the after-effects were devastating. Tommy, who likes to show off his spoken Thai, had ordered 14 bags of ice to sit on. What he got were 17 blocks of ice! For the 2 hours I spent with them before catching the train back, those blocks were full. Apparently, they carried on for another 2 hours after that.

The overnight train saw me back in Bangkok by 0800 and in Pattaya again by 1000. I dropped my bag at a friend’s restaurant and set about refilling my body with what it had decided to throw out on the train. By the time I set off for the Monday run again, I was feeling alright and met up again with others who had made alternative travel arrangements. My taxi picked me up after the run back in town at the On Inn and after filling my belly for free and bidding my adieus (with “see you in 3 weeks”), I was back off to the airport and trying to get my head round the idea of work again on Wednesday.

I suppose everybody’s Interhash was different. That was how mine went.

On On

No More Cum.

No More Cum

Write up by No More Cum

Wednesday 8th November 2006 at 6:43pm