Hashmaster: The PenguinRA: Froggy Scribe: JetstreamPiss Pourer: Pugwash Hash flash: Slipped In, Only Me et alMaster of Music: ShamcockInterHashional Representative: The Penguin

Correspondence: Doug Whittle, 23 Fairway, Girton, Cambridge CB3 0QF. Phone 01223 564201 Website: www.inh3.co.uk

IndoNostalgia Run 54 – June 2018Shitfaced in Shetland

Friday

We’re all aware of the Birmingham Six and the Magnificent Seven, well, they are now joined by the Cambridge Nine, comprising Muff Diver, Hangover Blues, Pugwash, Roger The Cabin Boy, Klinger, Antar, Googly, Kermit and Only Me. Originally, this bunch of misfits were relying on Pugwash to book train tickets from Peterborough to Aberdeen in time to catch the overnight ferry to Shetland.

Eight of the Cambridge Nine celebrate missing the rough crossing whilst Only Me recorded the scene.

Unfortunately, it transpired that the train would arrive too late for the ferry and so they set off to Luton on Thursday, in good time to catch the Sleasyjet flight to Aberdeen. After taxiing down the runway, an engine fault was discovered and they had to return to the terminal. When they finally took off they were too late to catch the ferry, so they found beds in the Travelodge for the night.

Klinger and Googly snuggle down for the night

Missing the ferry was a mixed blessing, as those who caught it experienced an extremely uncomfortable crossing as they ran into gale force winds. Mrs G and Just Phet were not happy and insisted that Gibber and Diplomat cancel their return tickets and take the plane instead.

Mrs G and Phet on terra firma, more firmer, less terror!

So, despite the missing nine, those who arrived on time spent the day looking around Lerwick and ended up in the Gurkha Restaurant for what proved to be an excellent meal. The pack then broke into small groups and disappeared into various dives and pubs, depending on their tastes. In search of material for tomorrow’s circle Froggy led The Penguin into the British Legion where drinks were 4 for a £ and the staff rather large (don’t mention BMI!).

While everyone was having a good time, the Hares, Inseminator and Malfunction were trying to erect a marque from first principles in a howling gale. Fortunately The Decca’s owner Steve arrived in time to confirm that they could adopt Plan A and use his shed, which he’d cleared out for us.

The Hare, working hard

Saturday

By Saturday morning the wind had dropped from 60mph to a steady 25mph and the sun shone, as it always does, on the righteous. The Cambridge Nine arrived to swell the numbers, beer was tapped and a light lunch served. Despite being only 100 metres from the Lerwick Brewery, the beer had come for Val Halla Brewery in Unst on account of the superior quality and Brew Dawg and Brew B*tch’s marketing skills.

The run was to be an A to B and Inseminator took the first bus load off to the start, which proved to be the local Co-op supermarket. Too tempting for most of the harriettes, who dived in to replenish their stocks of gin. They were soon joined by the remaining pack and

those Shetland Hashers who live in Lerwick to make a healthy pack of about 40 souls, or should that be R-soles?

With the option to stay on the bus this was a no brainer for Lightning who was carried straight to the beer stop without the distraction of having to follow the trail.

View from the low road

The trail was laid with chalk arrows which indicated that it would be a town run, as it proved to be. Runners set off for a cultural tour of Lerwick, passing the Museum, Mareel, harbour, Bus Station (where there are no toilets Shamcock), Fort Charlotte, Mousa via numerous back alleys, up and down steps and God knows where. Diplomat and Pugwash took heed of the old Scottish song and “took the high road” avoiding all the steps and ups and downs and arriving at point B half an hour ahead of the pack.

FRBs admiring the view, or just confused?Getting tired of up running up and down hill, Jetstream decided to stay on the lower road and was rewarded by finding Froggy just ahead who was checking downhill from a devious check on the hill.

Unfortunately this was not the trail and we had to make our way back up the hill through the cemetery.

A “SS” (Sweetie Stop to the Shetland Hashers), check at the Knab had everyone searching high and low for the sweets without success. It transpired that “SS” stood for Scenic Stop so we were meant to admire the view instead.

Hangover Blues and Lady Slipstream find some grass!

Unmentionable couldn’t wait and soon the pack followed her past the pitch and putt towards the Tesco Supermarket. Was this the be a Co-op to Tesco trail? Fortunately not, we carried on past the supermarket until we reached Clickimin Broch, an ancient Neolithic ruin, a bit like most of the pack.

Neolithic ruinsTaking time to admire the Broch suddenly Inseminator arrived carrying an icebox full of Bir Bintang. It is against the law to drink in public in Lerwick and so we all made our way into the centre of the Broch where local eyes couldn’t see us imbibing.

Walkers made their way back to the bus, runners went around the loch to the sports centre to wait for the bus to return. The FRBs took off up the path between

North and South Staney Hills where they were able to admire the view over Lerwick. Little did they know that the second bus was able to negotiate the same path and those who were too lazy to run up the hill were able to enjoy the same view with much less pain.

The venue was strictly “no pets” but for some reason Spermwhale managed to sweet talk the owner into allowing his three rats into the garden, presumably on the basis that they are wild animals and not pets. As SW got slowly pissed it fell to the long suffering Mashed Potato to take control of the wild trio.

With the wind appearing to come from all directions it was difficult to decide which spot was the most sheltered for the circle. Finally, the spot next to the barn was chosen as a compromise between shelter and proximity to the beer. Klinger excelled himself by showing the Shetland Hashers how to tie a sarong. We all had splendid Val Halla T-Shirts with our names on the back, except for While You’re Down There and Froggy, whose shirts had got mangled in the printing process, but they paid for them anyway.

With Blowback absent, it fell to the old farts to take control again, with a OAP mismanagement of The Penguin (Hash Master), Froggy (RA), Shamcock (Music Master) and Jetstream (Scribe). Only Slipped In as Hashflash represented the younger generation. Unfortuantely, the pictorial record of Saturday was less than perfect as Jetstream had provided Hashflash with a camera with flat batteries.

The Puffin Song? How dare you!

As usual, the Scribe didn’t make any notes and after several down-downs it all got rather hazy. What happened in the circle on Saturday gets confused with

the Sunday circle, but hey, who cares? After a brief introduction from The Penguin, Froggy took charge of the circle and the entertainment continued for a couple of hours. Interruptions and charges prolonged the fun with the occasional “song” by Shamcock, with support, in the form of heckling, from U-Bend.

It was noticeable that whilst most of us were wearing several layers and woolly hats, local Harriette, Flub-Aa were simply wearing T-shirts and didn’t appear to notice the wind. She also seemed to get more than her share of down-downs but didn’t complain.

The Hares, Inseminator, Inseminated, Lamchop and Pumpkin were thanked in traditional style, the Jamieson clan had done a fantastic job of organising the weekend and their efforts were much appreciated. The other Hare, Malfunction, was not there to share the glory as he had to support his football team in a championship match.

THHHanks to the Hares!

Ballsack had travelled all the way from France and was keeping a low profile until being singled out for a chorus of “Ou et la papier?”

There was no shortage of Charges which kept the beer flowing. Attempts by Spermwhale to sing the lobster song were delayed as long as possible, until eventually he was allowed into the circle. He nearly mangled, sorry, managed the whole song and only got a bit mixed up with the brush and broom verse. He’s getting better, although I recall he managed the whole song without f*cking it up when we were in Hartlepoo. Maybe we should have taken him up on his offer to sing the song before he got too pissed to remember all the words?

The Penguin (not the Puffin) entertains

Proceedings were wound up with a chorus of “swing low” as dinner was served. What a spread! Chicken, pork and lamb sate, fried rice, salads – the list went on. Unfortunately Mashed Potato hadn’t warned the Hares that she was a veggie, so had to make do with a salad roll. The Hash rice cooker, kindly donated by Diplomat after his Saughy Rigg weekend, had been packed away by Bear and couldn’t be retrieved. Thanks to Marietta, we had a replacement which Only Me took charge of.

To misquote the engineers song “down and down went the level of beer, and up and up went level of cheer!”. At this point Inseminator was feeling rather hot and thirsty and requested a beer. One who shall remain nameless (until tomorrow) proceeded to carry a keg of nicely settled beer over to the kitchen, stirring up the sediment in the process – this is REAL ALE not Lager, oh dear!

Klinger and Googly compare teeth

As it got colder, the pack slowly disintegrated, some heading for bed, others to Grey Goss where a litre bottle of Caol Isla, thanks to Froggy, soon warmed us up.

Sunday

Nine o’clock on Sunday morning and the Hare was up and cooking breakfast for everyone, what a star! This set us up for the day and the next run.

The hangover run started from the car park overlooking Scalloway and if we’d expected the run to be all down-hill we were disappointed. The trail led us down through some houses and then we ran out of arrows. The hares had forgotten to warn us that when the trail went off road, it was marked with toilet paper. As soon as this was pointed out we were off down a back alley like sh*t off a shovel.

The Brew family, but where’s Last Call?

Brew Dawg and Brew B*tch had brought along their children and it was demoralising for those of us who thought we were running, to be overtaken by Half Pint, First Round and Last Call, even though the latter was in a back pack.

With recharged batteries, Slipped In managed to take some pictures on the run, although most were of Lady Slipstream, rather than the rest of the pack. Today’s run took us up the hill to the west of the town with some cunning turn-backs, one of which led The Penguin completely off track and not seen again until the drink stop. Stiles in this part of the world are rather unique and not necessarily made for shorter folk, as Only Me discovered when she found herself stuck on top of one of them.

Only Me gets her leg over

Waylaid by Wilson at the Scalloway Hotel where a swift half of Skipper’s Ticket revived The Penguin, Froggy and Jetstream, thanks to McJekyl/McHyde’s friends Peter and Caroline, who own the Hotel.

Scalloway slipway, home of the Shetland Bus

We ran along the harbour wall and past the famous slipway, used to repair the fleet of fishing boats which made up the Shetland Bus during WWII (don’t mention the war, as Teutonic may be listening). In case you were fascinated by the slipway at Scalloway, you might find the story of The Shetland Bus by David Howarth an interesting read.

We then made our way to Scalloway Castle where the Hares had located the drink stop, again, away from prying eyes of local puritans. Mulled wine aided recovery and the bus was waiting conveniently around the corner.

Scalloway Castle, ideal spot for a drinks stop.

For those FRBs who hadn’t had enough exercise, Inseminator offered to drop them at Sandy Loch Reservoir so that they could run up the Cunningham Way and back to The Decca. Half way up, local knowledge took over and Toss Aa led Brew Dawg by a more direct route through the boggy South Burn of Gremista – what a wonderful name for a bog!

FRBs? You must be joking!

The sun was shining and the wind seemed to have dropped, which bode well for the circle.

Those who had been low profile on Saturday were now able to step forward and they did, led by Googly who was sporting a very authentic Rabbie Burns wig and proceeded to sing, tell stories and jokes of which the bard would have been pleased. Although not present, Blowback had requested that we sing the Puffin Song, very similar and based on The Penguin Song and The Chicken Song which the German contingent had introduced in the circle in Gozo. Despite interruptions from Spermwhale, Jetstream managed to get through

to the end, to the complete bewilderment of the children present.

A happy band of exiles

Half way through the circle Haggissimo turned up with Double Top and While You’re Down There, all very merry, having dined on Scallops at the Scalloway Hotel, washed down with several bottles of vino, judging by their smiling faces.

Haggissimo, Double Top and While You’re Down There, late arrivals, enjoy a prosecco down-down with Froggy

With no reason to stop the circle as, with the exception of Only Me, we were all staying overnight, the circle went on, and on, and on! One particular highlight was a very tuneful rendition of a Lowrie song by Poo-Taing, maybe he should have been appointed Hash Musique. Sorry Shamcock!

Lady Slipstream had been up all night composing a shaggy dog story and managed to include most of the pack in her monolog which gave an excuse for a mass down-down.

Down-downs for Lady Slipstream’s shaggy dog story

At this point one of Spermwhale’s rats decided to give the other one a Glasgow kiss and they were banned from the circle, not before time.

Lamchop and Pumpkin bring some class to the circle

Then came a serious interlude as Inseminator called the circle over to the frame of the unfinished marquee and proceeded to call Toss Aa and Froggy in for punishment for their heinous crimes, the former for telling the Decca owner that we didn’t need to use the shed as we had a marquee, and the latter for disturbing the keg of White Wife which, up to that point, had been treated with the greatest respect. Crucifixion was the chosen punishment and they were duly tied to the framework whilst their down-downs were poured down their throats to a refrain of “jesus can’t go hashing, cos he’s tied to a cross”, poor taste, but what isn’t on the Hash?

Sinners crusified

So much more to write about but the memory has faded, if you have any complaints about the events that haven’t been recorded in this report, then please offer to be Scribe at the next run. A final thankyou to the A-hole who put a dirty glass into the box of clean ones, thereby encouraging mould to grow everywhere!

Finally, a huge thankyou to the Hares for a superb weekend, your efforts were much appreciated.

The Hares, many thanks!

On-On to the next run, which, if I get this Newsletter out in time, will be in South Cerney, near the Cotswolds on 12th to 14th October 2018. Further ahead, the run in Spring 2019 will be in Languedoc and then in North Wales in the Autumn.