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Est 1983 - ON PRES: Robin Low

RunDateHare(s)DescriptionMapRef1:500001:250001:10000
Run 55027 February 2005Hash Flash and The Panda Southsea Model Village SZ655983

At last - Snow. A brave band of hashers met in the deepest snow of the winter (well the only snow actually) in sub zero temperatures. Hash Flash as usual in shorts but we expected nothing less.
After a very brief lecture from the hares we were off. Racing through the icy wind following the trail around a pretty little park round and round the garden in a circle to bring us back to where we started. Oh well thatís hashing. The Panda was standing smiling along with a small helper who had been blackmailed to come along with other family members who would have rather been somewhere else.
After we had been led up the garden path (literally) we went through the park and on to the mean streets of Southsea.
To be fair the streets were not that mean. They yielded The Can Man a bumper crop of beer cans, some with an appreciable amount of beer in them, although I did not try any as they were probably flat by then.
A few falsies and then back for another run around the park before crossing the road and into the streets again.
The pack was moving slowly (even more slowly than usual) wrapped up like Michelin men (and women). It made me think - is there a Michelin woman? I see those large naked German women on holiday beaches with many rolls of fat leaving you guess at which role of fat are the boobs (a tip - the fat with a nipple is probably a breast). But my mind wanders - senior moments are occurring with greater frequency.
We seemed to be moving in an anti clockwise direction (although as most hashers do not know which way is clockwise that does not help) and came through the streets and moving vaguely (yep, thatís hashers) parallel to the sea front.
We came out onto a large green which gave us all an opportunity to get thoroughly lost and for passers by to marvel at a group of rotund Eskimos looking for flour midst the deep snow.
After we had skirted the green we began to head back towards the car park along the promenade. This was obviously an act of sadism as it would be impossible to find a colder place to run that along the sea front during a blizzard in sub zero temperatures.
So shivering in we saw a sign that proclaimed the On Inn.
It was so cold that I had to find a loo only to read a sign saying that it was closed for the winter. This seemed a long time to have to hold on so I just made for the car and hope of a place to warm up.
As the pack was freezing and Mussolini was changing his shorts (not a pretty sight) we made our way to Roxbyís restaurant for apres hash. There The Can Man confused the waitress by asking for Indian Tea - she said they only had Typhoo.....

Humble Scribe.

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