Under the warm and balmy Albanian sky, about 50 assorted shapes and sizes assembled at France 98 and were duly organised and generally abused by "Tell Me Lies" before setting off for the Tirana Lake. Wrong Way bottled out and walked – this was one Hash he could probably have followed. Runners and walkers set off on the same trail, after "Tell Me Lies" explained (well admitted) that the trail lacked definition, and this proved to be the case. Setting off through mud and pools of water, the runners were soon filthy, both in body and mind, which was not helped by "Tell Me Lies" managing to pick up marks which no one else could see, and from the rear of the runners suddenly shouting "On, On" when everyone else had passed and were nearly out of sight, and then disappearing up some indeterminate and muddy path. So although there were no official false trails, this was false in itself. After entering the park gates, ably assisted by a helpful Albanian gentleman who held them open, the runners found themselves running in circles as a result of some most curious markings.

Over indulgence during the Festive Period began to take its toll, and Boring Mr Plod found himself at the rear of the pack, taking up the position recently vacated by Bollocks who is now sunning himself in the Maldives. Circling the lake, all returned safely home to the car park of a local hostelry.

In the absence of Alkasleazer, Boring Mr Plod took the Circle and lived up to his Hash name. The hares, Meryl Strip (I think) and Tell Me Lies were awarded a 5 for an excellent effort that ensured that those returning to Albania from leave were able to Hash. Newcomers comprised of two ladies, one of whom was initially reluctant to enter the circle but was not shy in displaying the colour of her knickers to the expectant onlookers, but there was unfortunately no repetition of any squirrel type antics from them. Nookie Pudding and Ayatollah were subjected to large Down Downs as this was their last Tirana Hash, and they were thanked for their contributions while in Albania. Naming ceremonies for Walter Kemper (Mr Truffe) and Valentin Balen (Count Dracula) saw much flour and beer, but the Temp/Hashmaster couldn’t remember the appropriate prayer to offer up (he could only remember something about "shitting from above") and all the experienced Hashers proved equally useless in this department. Tell Me Lies received her statutory Down Down for transgressions on the trail (cutting corners) failed to down her beer AGAIN and was anointed by the HashMaster.

Hash report for Jan 13

So while hashers were getting over their Friday evening libations and
enjoying leisurely Saturday morning breakfasts, In A Bod and Alkasleazer
were slogging it out through drizzle and mud, setting trail with rapidly
dissolving flour for a hash they figured nobody would show up for on
account of the weather!  Wrong indeedy - about 50 keeners assembled at the Cafe, so off we went to the famous No Name Restaurant out the Elbasan Road.

The trail took us through hills, across the dam, higher still, then
along a ridge, down through an olive grove and back to the restaurant.  And
did I mention the mud?  Well there was a bit of mud, and then some more,and then a lot more and then, well you get the picture. Suffice to say that if walkers thought that 50 metres of calf deep mud was ugly, they should be thanking the hash gods that they didn't take the runners' trail!! Although some had earlier expressed concern about getting a downdown for brand new Christmas present shoes, great gobs of muddy stuff made it impossible to tell the colour of anyone's shoes, let alone if they'd been purchased this century.

Muddy assed runners came in well before the walkers and managed to put a sound dent into the beer supply before the bulk of the crew arrived and we adjourned to the restaurant.  Late stragglers included the junior Limprecht and buddy, much to the relief of distraught mother hen Boomless, as well as one of the US Army's finest who evidently preferred to commune with nature than his fellow hashers. Eleven virgins were welcomed, and then Squirrell (yes this is in fact his real name), who recently gave us such a shock by dropping his drawers to display his god given talents, was christened Shrivelled on account of the infamous exhibition being somewhat of a disappointment. (With all due respect to the fact that he had just been running through a cold river and it wasn't the warmest of days!) Then it was time for a well balanced meal of pizza, chips, salad, bread, yogurt and beer, before heading back to the mighty metropolis and leaving a rather disgusting mess of smashed eggs, flour, beer and mud for restaurantstaff to clean up. (That's exactly what gratuities are for!)

Hash Report for Jan 20

So the convoy left Hank at the fork in the road to guide the late vehicle
in (that would be Jesper -who was prematurely out scouting for next week's hash), but neglected to leave a warm body standing by to point out the final turnoff for Hank and the laggards.  Anyway after some cellphone orientation sessions, we all managed to join up and Shrivelled headed out, laying a fine flowing trail of shredded paper for astute hashers (and the others too) to follow.  Crossing a substantial water pipe over a 4 metre deep ditch proved to be the first obstacle; although everybody was game for it, because the surefooted crossing approach tended to slow hashers down, a number chose the down into the ditch and up the other side route. (At least that was the Hashmaster's excuse.)  Assuredly this was not for fear of falling and breaking body parts!  Then came 10 minutes along a narrow irrigation trough, before we dropped to the river where we discovered that the hare had been kind enough to engineer a bridge crossing. This newfound respect for Shrivelled was short lived though, as soon enough it was back across the river, or should I say through, and then up, up and then really up, to the sounds of an Albanian wedding across the valley. The last up (otherwise known as climb) certainly slowed the crew down, however, the panoramic view from the hilltop would have just about made up for it, had it not been for that scurrilous downhill track back in over rolling rocks and through scratching bushes.

A couple of hashers expressed serious concerns re the difficulty and length of the trail, particularly for fear that some would be stuck on the hillside as dusk fell (and although we've not lost anyone yet, this is a serious consideration).  However, as everyone made it in, mostly with smiling faces, Shrivelled was able to overcome the deep remorse that was beginning to take hold (The bottomless can of beer may have helped too!)  The circle saw 12 virgins, Bill the army guy being done for pulling bushes with style and special gloves, Jesper for setting next week's run before coming out on this one, and Dave Tingle masquerading as a virgin in order to draw attention to MAPE's fancy dress party. (Does that mean the MAPE guys just had to show up in uniform??) Shrivelled announced that his mother was disappointed with his new hash name - tough! The beer ran out, and then the pizzas, followed by the hashers, back to town after another splendid outing.

Hash Report Jan 27

So if bliss is defined as water mixed with earth, this was indeed the most blissful experience Jesper had promised. And as to length, well lets just say that many hashers were looking back on Shrivelled's marathon of the previous week with great fondness! Anyway we did get to wade a river (I'm told that walkers enjoyed the pleasure of a bridge!) and circle the many lakes of Fush Kruja (too many times!).  In combination with the ongoing drizzle, it was an excellent reminder that water is not in short supply in the Land of the Eagles.

A number of hashers earned downdowns for distinguished behaviour: David and Delirious for engaging in erotic massage when they should have been running (just how can this be blamed on crabs??), Marion for not showing up on recent runs because her shoes advised her to stay home; Shrivelled for his heartfelt apology to Vernelle on account last week's hash being so much fun that she showed up late for official duty at Big Daddy's inauguration bash; and Yair for incessant marketing of the new Credit Registry.

Although the creative juices weren't flowing as freely as the beer, we managed to come up with names for a few longstanding participants. Jesper was named Premature for his penchant for setting the trail a week in advance, Guerti became Trotters as a result of  his consistent on trail gait and Bhavna (did I spell that right - ahh who cares!!) emerged as Short Sucker because....well why not!

In honour of Australia Day  (we learned that this is not Australia's birthday but none of the Aussies could coherently explain the official reason for National Pissup Day),  the Aussie's treated us to a rousing rendition of Beastiality's Best, apparently a fond ode to Shrivelled's army days.

Nonsense dispensed with, we rummaged through the bonfire for tinfoil treasures of hot potatoes and chicken, received our banana ration, and then it was back to Tirana to shower up and head to Premature's new bachelor pad for more of his sumptuous hospitality.

Jan 13 Photos

Jan 20 Photos

None available

Jan 27 Photos

None available