Bali Hash House Harriers 2
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Hashing - The Ultimate Adventure Activity
Things to do in Bali
Every Saturday the Bali Hash House Harriers go for a run through the beautiful villages, rice fields, mountains and forests in what is probably one of the most satisfying activities you can do in Bali. There are many beautiful country areas on the island which is criss crossed by a network of thousands of small paths the villagers use to get around. This is the real Bali far from the crowded tourist areas.
We set off around 4:30pm when it is cool and usually have two trails, for runners a one hour run and, if you prefer trekking or a more leisurely pace, a one hour walk. Hashing gives you excercise (a great way to keep fit without the boredom of that gymnasium), a bit of adventure and, when we get back from the run, a great social scene.
Everyone is welcome and at Rp 120,000 (US $10) the cost is very reasonable for a good day out. All you need will be a tee shirt, some shorts and a pair of joggers.
We have buses running from Kuta and from Sanur.
If you would like to go you can contact us here and we will see if we can arrange transport for you.
This Week's Run
Last Week's Run
Hash Trash 1211 - Easter Run
Hares: Serial Offender, Sex On The Desk, Fanny Wank et al
“Funny Buggars or Bunny Fuggars (Cake or Death?)”
In an unnervingly biblical episode after the Easter Run last Saturday, Night Jar (Our Saviour) was denied three times before the cock crew, by disciples. I believe that’s the proper reference, not at tea time before his cock grew thrice or two times before his cockatoo flew nicely. Anyhow, the poor bastard tried THREE TIMES to continue the circle and each time was foiled. Twice by cake and once by a Blood Moon (Davey, arrr), an eclipse, that is, that for some celestial reason / quirk rendered the moon a slightly rusty shade. I’ve seen these things before, not that many moons ago, and believe me, if you weren’t one of the lucky ones to actually witness it rising majestically above the Ayung Department store on the Jalan Raya at the end of the turnoff to the Bird Park in Singapadu, you missed absolutely fuck all. It was about as interesting as watching paint dry. In fact I find myself quoting the Grand Master himself as he gazed on in a decided lack of wonderment: “Why is it taking so fucking long?”
Never mind the fact that we are both old farts and as such can’t stand to have our routines interrupted, it just wasn’t that flabbergasting. My flabber remained positively degasted. Naturally, as we were all gazing at a night sky, the Iphones and Galaxies and Androids were whipped out in order to demonstrate those programmes thereon that show the star formations as the ancients would have seen them i.e. with a SHITLOAD of imagination. Much in the same way that I sometimes see clouds: “Look! There’s Winston Churchill, wait, now it looks like a chicken”. These ancients spent a good deal of the time stargazing, possibly while in the act of drinking mead or eating peyote mescalin buttons. Orien’s belt looks about as much like a belt as it does O’ Flaherty’s trousers or O’ Hanrahan’s hobnail boots, let alone Ursus Major looking like a friggin’ bear or something. “Hey, those two stars look exactly like a scorpion” one ancient would have said to another. “Dude”, the other ancient would have replied (inhale). Okay, okay, I know Orien’s belt isn’t meant to look like a belt as in a leather or plastic belt, but I’m just sayin’, okay? Sheesh.
So, the run. Well, there was one, it was pretty damn good and about a billion eager souls showed up for it. It would probably be the best attended run we’ve had this year; and without so much as the whiff of a tee shirt, a ribbed collar, a cotton jersey sleeve or a lumpy peanut sauce covered scrawny chicken satay stick. We’ve got to hand it to Sex on the Desk and co., (and there was a co.) we must have more than broke even last Saturday. Nice work guys, and nice work on the run, too. It had stuff: lots of paddys that had positively tangerine glows added to their rich emerald and Kelly green shades at sunset; really nifty jungle bits, stone stairs and river crossings that were also pretty cool, and one particularly quaint village. It was if anything, better than advertised by the Hares who prior to the run could be coaxed to impart not much more than a taciturn “ah, pretty flat’’ or “um, not so challenging” to describe it. Come on guys, take some credit, in fact open wide and I’ll force feed you some.
The trail was well marked mostly; there was one extended section of paddy so well papered I could only assume the Hare had suffered some kind of sustained forwardly mobile epileptic fit or thought he was lost and was trying to attract the attention of aviators. There was mostly a surprising lack of garbage too, given the area. The checks were quite sensible, that is right up to the point that (woeful wails, and molar gnashing) I found myself totally out of options, going backward and forward to the last known paper without the slightest hint of a continuing trail AND (ash donning, hair tearing and sackcloth wearing) confronted by a chalk drawn circle with a cross in it on the asphalt. Wey.Tee.Epp.? (Indonesian pronunciation of W.T.F.?) Were the hares trying to be Easter Bunny Fuggers? Had they confused April 1st with the nearest Hash day to Jumat Bagus? This will remain shrouded in mystery, certainly they disavowed any knowledge of said inexplicable hieroglyphic later under intense interrogation.
It may have been all my fault (it usually is). The upshot was that I went directly to the Jalan Raya, did not pass “Go” or collect $200.00 and walked back to the run site. Other than that, the Hares proved to be the perfect nuclear Hash family in a Chernobyl / Fukushima kind of way. Seriously though folks, it was all a-jape and a-jest in a j-ocular mode as a serious event should ever be. One of the highlights was running along an elevated concrete berm with Wooden Eye and St. Tits when we were passed by a cow, no shit. Ask them if you don’t believe me. It didn’t even say “passing” or “How now? And it was doing quite a respectable clip too, showing us its ladies’ parts. Tits and I overtook it again but Wooden Eye held back. Who knows? They may still be together.
Back at the circle it was “Cake or death?” “Death please, no I changed my mind, can I have cake?” “No, it’s death for you, I’m afraid. Next! Cake or death?” “What kind of cake?” “Death, next!” Sorry, just clowning around again, like Marcel Marceau in print, as I am so wont to do although I detest mimes, and clowns for that matter. The cake was delicious (though death on the circle) and at least we saw a Red bloody Moon however remotely diverting it was. Maybe next week we’ll get a Purple Polka Dot or Hot Pink (pantone 2385c) and Baby Blue (pantone 2708C) Striped Moon if we’re good little Hashers.
On on to the A.G.M. at Chez Labia. See you there!