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Royal Milan & Bordighera H³ Newsletter


December 3, 1997		 Forward 
From:    Duff Robin < rmd@msoft.it >
Date:    Wed 3 Dec 1997 17:20:01 +0000
Subject: Finale Report No 2

 Ramblin' Rods write up for Finale just arrived. For those with WWW access try

 http://crash.ihug.co.nz/~rodney/hash/finale.html

for the photos too.

Tonedeaf



           The Royal Magnarp Hashers Visit Bordighera.

This years Ghost on the Coast Hash weekend was a spectacular extravaganza of
great hashing, good company and incredible food. We'd met the Milano hashers
when they were up Sweden earlier this year and a return visit was inevitable.

So Thursday night we departed the icy north - that day was the first real cold
spell all year, and the temperature hit -5 overnight. It had rained the night
before, so the roads and paths were covered with sheets of ice, causing endless
problems for traffic and pedestrians. The only thing to do was a weekend
roadtrip to the Riviera. Friday we spent sightseeing around Milan, then caught
a train for the coast. When we get to Finale Ligure we take a taxi ride up to
Rositas, and see the pack waiting at the bottom of the hill. It seems like an
interminable ride up into the hills and we hurriedly unpack and run back down
the several kilometers to the start.

The pack are waiting for Bwana to turn up and then its on towards town. At
about the second check the pack heads off and appears to get confused by some
false trail marking. It took some time and the presence of a live hare to get
the pack back on trail. The trail soon heads from town up into the hills.
Numerous false trails leading up steep staircases keep the pack busy, but at
last we start to head downhill generally and end up back on the beach where we
find a beer stop. Its only a short way back to the circle in the parking lot
where we started out.

After the run its into the Villa Arianna for the first of a series of amazing
dinners. We're downstairs with the Swiss delegation, Likkem' is a familar name
from the hash list. The last of the food doesnt appear till around midnight,
then we have a long walk up the hill to the Hotel.

 [Image]

  Rositas
Next morning we wake to see a fantastic view - Rositas is perched high up
on the hill overlooking a marina, with 180 views of spectacuar coastline.
This is what I always imagined the Riviera to be like. A liesurely
breakfast, then we make our way down the hill to the beach for some fun and
games.

For the beach Olympricks we were divided into 8 teams. First we had to
answer a series of questions to display our knowledge of the RM&B hash.
This included naming all the characters from Scotland the Brave (the
Jockey, the Yankee, the Harlot....) - a hymn adopted by RM&B in honor of
their founder Gus McKay. Then we had to find a number of items including a
grocery bag, a swiss army knife, a condom, a 1996 Ghost on the Coast
T-shirt, some american currency and an item of red or black underwear.

The Olympricks

The games themselves started on the beach with the gumboot toss, in fact
this sport was invented in New Zealand, and every year the world
championships are held in Taihape, the Gumboot Capital of the World. For
this event the boot was filled with water before tossing, which added to
the excitement and kept the spectators on their feet. A number of
techniques were demonstrated, including the full 360 and various underhand
lobs. It was then announced that this was only the warmup and the final
event would be judged between the harriettes only.

Next we had the blind drunk event - one member from each team was
blindfolded, made to drink a beer, spun around three times, then had to
make his or her way to the teammates located on the other side of the
beach. Spectators were expected to cheer their contestest home, and the
contestent was expected to find his team amid the cries. We sang O solo
mio, but failed to attract the attention of our runner, and came in last.

Then there was the dressing up. The smallest member of each team was
chosen, and the aim was to get as many articles of clothing on that person
in three minutes. This entailed each of the other team members removing as
many articles as possible as well, with special points for anyone removing
all items during the judging. An egg throwing event left many contestants
spattered and stained. The three legged race proved the grand finale and
the judges retired to sort out a winning team. Prizes were awarded (and
immediately consumed) at the end of the events, followed by a swim, and
then we drifted back up the hill to have a liesurely lunch in the shade of
the vines on Rosies deck.

 [Image]

   Bless
  you....
Saturday afternoon and the main run. Assembled outside Rosies, and a hush
descends over the pack. On the balcony above, a berobed figure appears, its
the POPE, who has made a special trip to bless the pack.

 [Image]

   Down
   Down
   Down
  Down...
From Rositas we head high up into the hills, through orchards, vineyards
and olive groves. The view back over the mediterranean is spectacular, and
the coast stretches from Genoa to the east towards Monaco in the west. RM&B
hashes have song halts, where the entire pack must assemble and sing before
continuing. We end up outside a house where apparently Gus and Anna McKay
lived (or at least somewhere nearby.) Some trail snacks and beer are
provided. Then, the sound of bagpipes and in the hills above us, two
figures appear in the mist - the ghosts of Gus and Anna, returned. The
owner of the house watches on in amusement.

 [Image]

   Down
   Down
   Down
  Down...
Back down the hill to Rosies, and the on on, which seem to go on and on. No
Mercy Master gets a downdown. Representatives from all the countries in
attendance are called forward. No Mercy Master represents Austria. As well
as most of Europe, we have USA (CIS), Japan (Like a Virgin) and New Zealand
(Ramblin'). No Mercy Master gets most of the remaining downdowns. The pope
reappears, carried by his bearers. A renaming is to take place. Milans own
Paint Job, who removes his clothes at the slightest provocation (the very
first time I ever met him, he was naked in a bar in Sweden), is from now on
to be known as PAINT STRIPPER. He removes his clothes and kneels in front
of the pontiff, kissing the holy staff. No Mercy Master gets another
downdown, this time from a rubber chicken.

Dinner

Saturday night was dinner at Rositas. Food just kept coming out of the
kitchen, and we ate for four hours. One course consisted of baby octopi
(octopussy?). Theres nothing having a couple of tentacles dangling from
your nose to liven up a dinner. (Except perhaps using a very large octupus
and assorted lobster parts to recreate the egg laying scene from Alien)

Assorted skits and songs came from the various hash kennels represented at
the event. Some time after midnight the restaurant management hinted it
might be a good idea for us to leave (presumably because they had to get
the place in shape for breakfast the next morning.) Various people headed
off for the beach, but since it was a long way down there (and likely to be
even longer back up), we decided to call it a night. However, the following
report from our intrepid reporter-on-the spot Ingrid Larssen:

This is what I remember from the Saturday night beach party:

After we were thrown out of Rosita's, it was still too early to stop
partying. Spicy Meat Balls (?) said "Let's go to the beach" and everyone
who didn't stay at Rosita's followed.

We didn't have that many cars (or reasonably sober drivers) at the time so
we cramped into the few that were left and went down the hill. (One hasher
(Ed - name deleted on the advice of our lawyers) was seen jumping into the
boot of one car with a good looking young girl, I'm sure they had a nice
ride down.)

At the beach wine was still plenty. Most of us cuddled up near the top of
the beach while a few brave ones went swimming. Tonedeaf was on his way
into the water wearing his socks only! And yes it's true, the rumours about
what's under a Scotsmans kilt. If you really want to know, be sure not to
miss the beach party next year!

Sunday morning and I get woken "the run starts in half an hour, weve got to
eat breakfast". Fine, except that (a) the run had been changed to 11.00am,
and (b) summer time was over that night, so in fact we still had a couple
of hours which was definitely needed. So it was a liesurely breakfast
instead and then we walked to the bottom of the hill to where the pack were
milling around in the parking lot. We'd seen a couple of hares running up
the hill on our way down, so the first check was easy, and the trail led
into the twisty back streets of Finale Ligure. A lot of back checks and
false trails soon had the pack confused, and even more so when we got into
town. One hasher even managed to pick up on Fridays trail, which was
specially marked in blue flour, he ended up following the trail to the top
of the hill. But thats what happens when you miss a run.

 [Image]

   Down
   Down
   Down
   Down...

Anyway the pack milled around downtown Finale Ligure trying to pick up the
trail, but it was total confusion and in the end we gave up and wandered on
back to the start, since the rumor had gone out that the hares were already
back there. Bwana does the honors, and we have a couple of namings.
Skullbuggery picks up her name for her spectacular costume from the night
before.

FRom there we drove back towards Milan, but stopped off for lunch. It was yet
another gastronomic extravaganza that went on interminably. In the end we had
to rush through the last course so we could get to the Castello di Tagliolo
before dark. It is rumoured that it was at this castle that Gus first met Anna
Marie way back in 1946, and is now a winery. We were shown around by the owner,
then had a chance to sample some superb vino, though after the weekends
extravagance, it may have been wasted on some of us!

All in all a superb weekend, definitely one of the highlights on the annual
hash calender. We look forward to the ski hash and other future events!

On, On. 

Ramblin', Foghhorn and Ingrid Larssen 
Royal Magnarp & Bordighera Hash

 

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