Bodrum Hash House harriers
Date: July 13th 2014
Site: On the road to Yashi (or thereabouts)
Hares: Dopey & Hosier Handler (or thereabouts)
As Dopey was the main antagonist, perhaps he can tell us why the dwarves are so miserable? Well, it’s because 6 of them aren’t ‘Happy’. And so, surprise, surprise, the majority of no hopers were in situ well before the appointed time of 17.00 hours; Vulture Culture and his Virgin (perhaps someone should give him lessons or advice?) were busy quenching thirsts and collecting dosh; a circle was called by our esteemed GM, presumably in consultation with our RA, as the hottest spot within 500m was selected for our gathering - we were duly subjected to the bi-weekly ramblings: the guest, a local lady answering to Eileen (no, I can’t tell that joke) was introduced to the assembled hashers, each stating his name, rank and number (your lowly scribe accepting the role of Clockmaker 2, today); the previous week’s leading FRB was cajoled and given a heavy wallop of beer to slow him down; and the hares (no harettes this week) explained the intricacies of placing chalk marks along roads and paths, with no back checks and then the complication – a trail for runners (R) and a trail for walkers (W) but isn’t this discrimination? What about Walkers who run or Runners who walk? Shouldn’t we have a trail for Male Walkers who sometimes run (Wunkers) and Female Runners who occasionally walk (Fulkers)? And so we staggered, lurched, shuffled off seeking chalk (mainly on the left except when on the right) and then, as we departed, steeling ourselves to dodge the speeding cars, in sped Latefoot (and no his Iranian beauty was NOT responsible for his tardiness, he always looks embarrassed, especially when taking his client’s briefs). And on we ran, the runners in one direction the walkers another and the Wunkers and Fulkers in one or the other; past the fields, mooing cows, squawking birds, barking dogs and itinerants, all reminiscent of a farm in Turkey…..along the road, back onto farm tracks and then another R&W challenge – and onwards enduring the ankle breaking summer river bed; those who survived found another track, a slope and wonderful views; and there somewhere in the distance, our On On site; a rapid shuffle up the last incline along the busy road and we were back, another lovely Aegean walk, peaceful with no interruptions of FRBs encouraging back runners with cries of On On – no, the poor old Wunker and four Fulkers staggered home after a mere 60 minutes, challenging all odds and ready to accept the non-existent accolades.
And so another circle: the Hares were rightly praised for making a challenge out of a simple walk; the guests and returnees were welcomed back; the pinkies were grouped together to determine any similarities; your honourable scribe was cajoled for being your scribe (but no extra beverage was proffered in spite of hat wearing, holding hips and gob shyting); virtually everyone else was given the excess ‘down downs’; a late announcement was then made that the run on August 10 th (the day of the election, when alcohol is banned in public) would be held on the following day (when alcohol is banned in public); and so dispersion, either to Vera’s on the coast (for those not sports oriented) or to The Local Pub for the football aficionados – a 1-0 win/loss for one of the teams: And so the genie offered one wish: I’d like ‘Everlasting life’ was the response: ‘I cannot give you that’, replied the genie. ‘Ok then’, I’d like ‘Life until England win the World Cup’. ‘As I said, I can’t give you that’….hmmm