would have got this paltry offering to you earlier, but I have what appears to be a pretty common ailment - I suffer from an affliction called work that cramps my hashing style no end :-(

Well, we arrived at Hotel Bella Riviera on Friday afternoon to find Gus was cleaning the place up for us Whirlpool style - washed by the rain and dried by the wind. .... except there wasn't much wind .... apart from that produced by hashers.....  and there was a fair amount around the Hash bar we set up in the dining room (we told the boomerang people to go for a twirl and come back later). Mad March Hare painlessly relieved us of our dues with such a smile you felt he was doing you a favour.

Sadist from Riviera set a wonderfully long hash-round-the-block, through the pineta and along the prom, and lived up to his name by telling people they didn't really need torches. As long as you could see in the dark in the woods you were OK. 

Gus was busy in the meantime ensuring our appointed RA for the weekend, Oxymoron from Belfast , got there safely. Hey, He even tracked down Sinex's luggage that went walkabout on the way over.

The hotel kept its promise and the On In was delicious and washed down with plenty of good wine. We even managed to squeeze in a last minute little one in the form of Knicker Likker from Riviera who didn't need to sleep on the beach after all - although not having brought any documents with her .......... she had a slight problem checking in to her hotel. S+M came to the rescue brandishing her whip and the problem was solved in no time :-)

Saturday dawned sunny if not sultry (everything is relative remember) and a wonderfully obedient pack of 40 turned out at 11 am prompt to chase a ghost along the coast. Maria Call-Ass miraculously produced individual travel documents (in non pc-speak "bus tickets") and we set off in search of bus station and bus stop number 5. The bus driver couldn't believe his good fortune (,maybe he's on piecework...) and neither could the pack 'cos we all got a seat and there were also enough for the locals too.

We went up into the foothills of the Apennines to Stiava, where we got off the bus and started checking. One would have thought the trail would be all downhill, however, when we got on flour we discovered that the hares, Slippery Wet (RMBH3) and Lost Deposit (GM Belfast), had managed to find as much UP as was hashly possible. The surprising thing is that they were both supposedly “incapacitated”. SW was leaning on a walking stick all weekend and LD had told me “I have spoken with Slippery Wet – as I am not allowed to run (bad back) I will help him lay the trail – all sorted.”

Actually thinking about it, it all makes sense. They couldn’t run, so they were making sure we couldn’t either by finding as much up as possible. It wouldn’t have been so bad if half the flour hadn’t been washed away (must have rained overnight …..), anyway I estimate that of the 35 pack (excluding beer bitches and hares) we must have covered about 15 trails – not an inch of the hillside went un-hashed.  Every falsie and every non-existent trail was investigated by somebody. Luckily the locals were very accommodating. At one point the majority of the pack converged on a hamlet – hot and thirsty and failing to find flour – one guy made the mistake of offering us a 2 litre bottle of water – he parted with another two and even refused the 50 cents (only cash I had) offering I made J On On!

Miraculously we all made it to the beer stop – even the beer wagon, although they had to tweak the position to get the car there! Last ones in were ……. You’ll never guess! Lost Deposit – yes one of the hares – and Pink Panter. I had left them an hour earlier when Gus showed me a shortcut and they wouldn’t follow – so it was 60 degrees vertical through a vineyard… but it got me back on trail!

Restored from the beer stop, we finally rolled down the hill and fell into the restaurant for the lunch stop. We sampled the previously unknown panigacci, cheese and salamis, washed down again by plenty of liquid refreshment, and left half of the tortelli on the plates. 

Then it was on on and on down, passing through an area with reclaimed land with greenhouses, plants and lots of canals. The sun had come out in full by then and was making its presence felt, but again flour seemed to be in short supply (no excuse for it having rained this time – they only set the trail after lunch, but why they did that is another story, having to do with a long boozy lunch the day before and the fact that even before the clocks went back it was dark at 6 pm!). The trail apparently went through an irrigation channel with 3 feet of water, why am I not surprised that only SW did it??? Pink Panter thought he was smart hitching a ride on a scooter, only to find he’d gone all the way down a false trail and thus had to walk back!

Anyway we all made it back to the beach for the circle, fortunately the Belfast hashers had forgotten they were going to gatecrash a talk about Eccentric Irish Writers, so we didn’t cause any undue concern to the local Anglophile population. Some people even went swimming. In addition to all the usual and unusual down-downs that were far too numerous to mention, we also had a triple naming ceremony.. Those that got christened were:  Just Cairàn (RMBH3) became Father Ted, Boyfriend Ian ( Belfast ) became Resurrection and Just Tom (RMBH3) became Gofer. 

Gus hadn’t appeared all day and some people were giving up hope – but just after the circle, wending our way back to the hotel – our wishes were granted. The Ghost of Gus appeared and gave us his blessing from the balcony of a neighbouring hotel. We Trust in Gus!

The theme for the fancy dress was “Kings and Queens ” so we were all turned out like royalty for dinner. Hashers never cease to amaze me – we didn’t have a single male Queen, which I had expected to be the most common costume. Not complaining though, in addition to kings and queens of all races and geographical and historical backgrounds, we had Sultans and Sultanas, Emperors and Empresses, Pharaohs, Kings of Rock, Kings of the Road, Queens Park Rangers. 

Dinner included tons of tasty traditional Tuscan cuisine – the seafood lasagna was to die for! Washed down again by litres of lovely liquid refreshment. The boomerang enthusiasts had brought reinforcements for dinner – there were 60 of them and only 40 of us, but they only cramped our style slightly. Not having the place to ourselves to party, the Dancing Queens were forced to slope off to a local disco to get down, the hardcore retired to the terrace to tell jokes until the wee small hours and we all appreciated the extra hour’s sleep (we do think of everything you know ……).

The Hare of the Ghostly Dog was Tonedeaf, who kindly set 6 beer stops. Only problem was they were in a public park and by the time the pack found them, the bottles were empty – you can’t trust anyone these days! However, not to worry, we still had the beer wagon and trusty beer bitches Iron Bum, Cellular Sex and Chestnuts treated us to salami, cheese, chocolate and fruit to keep us going as well as lashings of wine and beer. And so the 17^th Ghost on the Coast came to an end and a jolly good time was had by all.

BTW - We acquired another follower – the owner of the hotel, Umberto (the snappy-dressing older guy who began by offering us coffee and sambuca on Saturday after dinner and ended up selling Cellular Sex a bottle!). He wrote a dedication for us thanking us for coming and hoping to see us soon. I have to send him flyers for away weekend out of Viareggio and he’ll come too!

The Geneva hashers were last heard of trying to get their car started in Viareggio late on Sunday afternoon. Obviously the car preferred to soak up the sun at the beach rather than go back to sub-zero Switzerland .

Comments from other hashers:

- Thank you for a brilliant weekend - location, hotel weather food company and runs all excellent. Looking forward to next year already.

- A great weekend and I am sure it was the correct decision to come a bit south on the coast for the last weekend of October. The sea was a comfortable 21/22 degrees. 

- I had a wonderful weekend. Hope there will be another one next year.

- I had a great time.  

So next year we’ll get in there early and take over the hotel so that we can have our own cabaret and disco.

On On to GOTCH 2009 in Viareggio !

S+M

Grand Mistress

Royal Milan & Bordighera Hash House Harriers
suboyle@enjoy.it
tel +39 349 372 8792
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 THREE  LITTLE DUCKS

Three little ducks go into a Bar......
 'Say, what's your name?' the bartender asked the first duck.
 'Huey,'  was the reply.
 'How's your day been, Huey?'
 'Great. Lovely day.. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day. What else could a duck want?' said Huey.
 'Oh. That's nice,' said the bartender.

He turned to the second duck, 'Hi, and what's your name?'
'Dewey,'  came the answer from duck number two.
'So how's your day been, Dewey! ?' he asked.
'Great. Lovely day. I've had a ball too. Been in and out of puddles all day myself. What else could a duck want?'
The  bartender turned to the third duck and said, 'So, you must be Louie?'
 'No,'  she said, batting her eyelashes.
 'My name is Puddles.'