DMH3 Nash Hash 2009

So what can be said about this year’s Nash Hash that wasn’t said about last year’s? Well, it was organised by a dedicated and highly efficient team with only one thought in mind – the thorough enjoyment of those who would go. Bollocks – it was organised by Geli and a few others, some of whom couldn’t even be arsed coming along.


Sunrise, and the Hares depart. Meanwhile the pack can barely control their excitement

Having elected to protect the virginal Custard Tart from the excesses of the hard core Hashers in the bus, we had a fairly uneventful run down to Mawa – two and a half hours to do the 12km to the other side of Dhaka – 30 minutes for the remaining 30km. The bus, of course, had got there first but we were all soon on the boat and steaming up the Padma. The evening’s activities were, of course, eminently sensible with everyone aware that they had an arduous day ahead, so staying on soda water and off early to bed. Well, sort of. Someone drank a soda and Zolie went to bed early. Otherwise it was the usual Hash Farty – lots of booze, loud music and exhibitions of pole dancing.

The morning dawned fair and lovely with the excitement of the pack absolutely palpable.

Run 1455, 20^th February 2009. Hosted by Dhaka Mixed Hash

Old Fart nods off on the way to the start

Hares: Bozo the Clown, Pussy Pick Up & Towed

Visitors: Sex Starved in Srimangal, Dame Swingin’ Tits, Old Fart, Warm & Fluffy, Towed Under & Custard Tart

Returnees: Anne, Sponge Bob Spare Pants, Crazy Dick

The first run was pretty close to where we’d anchored for the night on the north bank of the river. Bozo, Pussy Pick Up and I set out at some ungodly hour with Bozo a blind passenger having been unable to locate his glasses before we set out. He probably would not have been able to see too much through the red film even if he’d had them. PPU had volunteered to set the walk and we had a GPS each and had carefully planned the key points on the route. The only problem was that PPU had borrowed Warm & Fluffy’s GPS which worked in decimals of a degree whilst mine worked in degrees minutes and seconds. Somehow, he had no problem

The Back Hare sweeps up

There’s paper there somewhere!

punching in the coordinates of the key points, but he kept turning up in some strange places after we had split. Needless to say the careful plan was totally fucking useless and we had to wing it. Start time for the run was supposed to be 09.30 but since we were still laying paper about one and a half kilometres from the end at that time, there was a slight delay.

Sucker & Penis Farty at one of the many local discos

The Running Pack

There were some tricky bits

Whilst I have total recall of setting the trail, the run itself was another matter. We basically did an anticlockwise loop to the south, setting off with a big false trail through the village before turning along brick paths to emerge on the river bank around one kilometre further downstream. From there we cut inland. Runners and walkers were following the same trail at this stage but would soon part once we crossed the river (not the Padma, you stupid twat – a little side tributary). The area was fairly well populated with nice villages and a good variety of forest and paddy. Flat as fuck, as to be expected, with the only hill encountered being the flood protection barrier along the river bank. A fair contrast with last year in Bandarban.

Once we parted from the walkers the terrain opened up a bit, with one big area of paddy to get across. This proved entertaining as the bunds were made up of dried out water hyacinth, so they were as soft as an old man’s dick. Talking of which, see the photo bottom right with Cloth Balls demonstrating the difficulties that he has! Once we’d happily negotiated this it was back through the villages again, then across a substantial area of long grass with multiple paths through it where the pack got completely lost. Eventually Cloth Balls found the way with a bit of encouragement from a Hare. We did manage to lose the paper at the very end, but by then no-one was really caring as the river and the beer were beckoning. We finally emerged on the river bank, as planned, around one kilometre upstream from the start point, where the boat was patiently waiting.

I know that Pickled Pussy ran every single false trail (standing in for Lousy Lay), that LBH moaned consistently for every minute that we ran more than one hour and that Penis did something similar, so there was about an hour of fairly pleasant running followed by 30 minutes of dogs’ abuse for the Hares. The other notable thing, that we had noticed when setting the run early in the morning as well, was the number of houses with Bollywood dance music blasting out.

The walkers were already safely back – pretty amazing really, given Pussy Pick Up’s performance when setting the walk, but I guess accidents do happen.

The Circle

The circle was held on board, on the after deck, for those of you that understand nautical terms. For the rest – on the open bit at the back of the boat. GM for this one was, of course, Blow Job. The Magnificent Hares were called in first. What a wonderful job they had done, setting standards of Haring that were not to be surpassed for the rest of the weekend.

Visitors were then welcomed. Four were old regulars, the other two previous visitors, and half were related to the Hares, if only by marriage. Anyway it was great to see Dame Swingin’ Tits and Old Fart back for a brief visit. Apparently British Airways made them come. Sex Starved was allegedly made to come by Bozo (but she probably couldn’t remember when) and I have to be a bit careful here as Custard Tart (my daughter) said that I made her come. I just hope this doesn’t reach South Shropshire Unitary Council (as it is now called) Social Services Department. Towed Under, should you be wondering, is also something to do with me. Oh, and Warm & Fluffy was back again from Oxford. She interrupted proceedings to present Grand Mattress, Blow Job, with an Oxford HHH tee shirt.

Returnees were Anne and Sponge Bob Spare Pants – fuck knows where they’d been – and Crazy Dick, who’d been in lust again in Delhi. Then it was time for the RA to take over.

The Utterly Magnificent Hares

Visitors, missing Dame Swingin’ Tits

Returnees

First to be called in were Minty and Lip Service, who had apparently been responsible for organising the T-shirts. Bozo complained that there were only XLs available, and that two such small people should cater properly for those of a more sveldt build like himself. Next in was Warm & Fluffy who, now she is espoused to Webfart, had bled for Bangladesh on the run.

Bangladesh bleeder

Bra-less ones

Loony Larissa had been one of the main perpetrators of disorder the previous evening so, just to remind us all of what we may possibly have missed, she was called in for a re-run of the evening’s pole dancing events along with her partner in crime, Sex Starved. Fortunately Bozo thought better of re-enacting the encore performed the previous evening by him and my good self.

Careful with that hand, Minty!

You can tell which one has done it before!

Anne Walton had apparently somehow lost her bra the previous evening in what was described by Bozo as a melée. I must have been in the loo when this happened as I have no recollections of any melées occurring. However, it was initially alleged that Minty had nicked it (his obsession with breasts being evident for the photo (left) with Lip Service!), but then common sense prevailed and man-boob owners Dunny Gone and Cloth Balls were accused. Finally that well known knicker nicker, Sponge Bob Spare Pants was called in to see if he could explain. No, he couldn’t. Meanwhile Anne was flashing her spare bra to anyone that would look. Bozo had pointed out at the start of this little tale that Anne appeared to be lacking a hash name so options were called for.

No Pants, Bra-less, Free Titty, Swing Low and No Bra Pad Ma were offered, with Bozo getting singularly confused about what names had been offered, which he wanted to reject and which new ones he wanted to sneak in for himself. Meanwhile Anne had realised that steel decks exposed to the mid afternoon sun get fucking hot and had managed to find a hash towel to kneel on to prevent her knees from frying. When Bozo had finally got his head around the names on offer with, of course, continuous constructive help from the assembled circle, there was really no contest. Four names were greeted with near silence (except for Crazy Dick, who thinks his name is crap so he always votes for the worst names for everyone else) but Free Titty was a resounding winner. This could be because some of the more simple Hashers (roughly 95% of the male pack) thought it was an offer, not a name.

Finally Lip Service was called in to explain why she flinched every time she heard a slight thud. This phobia had started when we did the recce some 4 weeks previously and the engine of the rented speedboat had hit a sandbank out in mid-river with a fairly loud bang. “Oh God,” she wailed “we’ve hit a dolphin”. Since then, she’s been paranoid – a condition encouraged by those who had also been on the recce.

Whilst all this was going on the boat had motored across to the other side of the river in readiness for the second run of the day.

Run 1456, 20^th February 2009. Hosted by Dhaka Hash House Harriers

Getting ashore

De-sanding feet

The first check is found

Is there anybody out there?

Idle bastard Hashers

Bozo faking a shoe problem

Hares: Minty Hole, LBH and Pussy Pick Up, Blow Job

Returnees: Tuneless Cow, Dame Swingin’ Tits (again, for some strange reason)

Notables: LBH has done it 575 times on the DHHH

This run was on what we originally thought was a chor, but actually transpired that there was no river on the other side. However, it was sufficiently remote for us to be even bigger objects of curiosity than usual. When we recce’d here, aside from Bozo getting seriously involved in a local celebration with music and dancers, and probably getting married to one of the locals, one of the ladies of the village was overheard to say that she’d seen white people on TV before, but never in the flesh, and now there were four in her village (obviously she said this in Bangla otherwise we might have been suspicious that she was pulling our plonkers!). What a fucking rude awakening she was going to get with about 30 of us there this time.

Getting ashore was a bit of a problem as the beach was very gently shelving so the boat only got within a few feet of dry land. There was a bit of a wait whilst everyone brushed the sand off their feet and put their trainers back on. Sucker used this time to search for samples of marine mammalia which he proudly presented to Penis. We all told Lip Service that it was an embryonic Irrawaddy Dolphin that had been ripped from its mother’s womb, but it was actually a dead shrimp. Sucker has interesting ways of showing his affection for our ex-GM!

Once everyone was shod, first paper was eventually found along the beach, probably by Crazy Dick. I was too far away to see, having checked inland with Blow Pipe, so we headed off on a parallel course a little way inland. This was a bit awkward as the whole area had just been planted with peanuts and it was across soft sand. Anyway, we knew they had to turn inland at some stage (just as well the walkers didn’t adopt that attitude otherwise they’d have been well in the shit – see later). Sure enough a check was called and from there the trail headed across the fields towards one of the small villages.

Paper was a tad unclear through the village and there were Hashers going in all directions. However, the general consensus seemed to be to head further inland, which made sense, and so we did, with paper being found eventually by Trek or Treat. It was all fairly easy as the terrain by this stage was open grassland. It was hereabouts that Sucker, Penis and Rocks Off decided they were far too tired to walk so hopped onto a pony and cart. The open terrain meant that checking was quite difficult – the paper could have been anywhere – but it was relatively easy to follow the pack at a distance if you’d gone the wrong way. The net result was that instead of the usual spread of hashers along a trail – FRBs in front, slower runners behind and Pussy Pick Up at the very back trying to get back to the front – there was a group spread over a wide area all moving in generally the same direction.

I recall finding the paper after Bozo had faked a shoe problem to avoid coming to a check, and he and I headed out on our own alongside a channel to end up miles from the pack but still on paper (more or less. Eventually we split up approaching a village but managed to find the next check from opposite directions at more or less the same time! From here it was a fairly straightforward run back to the beach and then along to the boat, where the walkers were arriving having had an inspired walk set by LBH. Yes, you guessed it. Straight along the beach then back again! Mind you, it was an interesting beach.

The Circle

Back on board so that the boat could head downstream in daylight, Dunny Gone soon took charge (well, once he’d had time for a beer or two). The Hares were called in to face the music. The Run was given a sort of OK, but the walk was greeted with something less than an Oscar. It had to be the ultimate LBH Trail – one straight line out and back; no checks!

The Man In Charge

The Hares

Get a Fucking Life!

Late Visitor and Returnee

Then it was the turn of LBH to receive a lifetime of service to the Hash award – the sad bastard has done it 575 times on a Monday afternoon. The only other business for the GM was to haul in Tuneless Cow, who is only allowed to do one hash per day at her age, and the missing visitor from Run 1455, Dame Swingin’ Tits. TC had been to Vienna for a Librarians’ conference – Shhhhhh …..

In the absence of KBKC who is, I believe, the DHHH RA, Dunny Gone took the novel step of asking for the circle to place charges. A time for personal vendettas to rise to the surface. Its amazing Crazy Dick wasn’t in there trying to re-name everyone! Before anyone could say anything, Warm and Fluffy jumped in with another Oxford HHH T-shirt for GM Dunny Gone – an XXXXL with double-D cups!

So, on to the charges and on to the ice! Bozo leaped in first with a trumped up charge against me for not running on paper or even anywhere near it. I call it constructive checking. Since Minty Hole had, as a Hare, also managed to stray off paper by completely missing the last check and heading straight for the beach he was also put on ice, which obviously excited him as he proceeded to sexually assault me. There followed so many icings and down-downs that it is difficult to do them all justice in prose, so I’m just going to list those charged and their accusers.

The Walking Hares by Cloth Balls, for straight line hashing
Sheila, by Hairy Crack for playing Skippy on the Hash
Dunny Gone (accompanied by Blow Job) by Towed for allowing a bumpy Hare on the DHHH

Sex Mad Minty

Blow Job gets laid

Jumpy Bumpy II

Two bumpy Hashers on DHHH

Jan, by Bozo, for the French foreign legion hat
Blow Pipe, by Geli, for playing hide and seek on the run
Sucker, by Penis (now there’s a good combination of names!) for acting as Penis’ personal tour guide and spouting useless Bangla tripe, giving her a baby dolphin and so on
Dunny Gone, by Geli, for saying rude words when he fell over
Bozo the Clown, by Pissy Puke Up, for faking that he was going to paddle across the water when he knew he was on paper to the next check

Legionnaires disease

Now you see him …..

Sucker undoes the hooks and …

…. look those puppies!

Sucker and Rocks Off, by Penis. This one is a bit confusing as it involved Rocks Off for being showered and changed, both of them for taking a ride on a pony and cart in the middle of the run and then Lip Service, who actually took a picture of Penis, Sucker and Rocks Off on the cart, so why the fuck was Penis accusing anyone?! Since Bozo was still on the ice from the previous charge the girls sat on the boys.

Unadulterated Toggery!

Crazy Dick, by Warm & Fluffy, for having ~~bent~~ sorry, burnt feet.
Larissa, by Tuneless Cow, for inviting all the village kids to join the Hash for English lessons – stiff arm down-down
Dame Swingin’ Tits, Old Fart, LBH and Tuneless Cow, by Cloth Balls, for taking a short cut on the walk. How that was achieved, when Cloth Balls had earlier charged the Walking Hares for setting a straight line Hash, I’m not sure.
Lucien, by Larissa, for no recorded reason – stiff arm down-down
Blow Job, also possibly by Larissa, for singing happy songs instead of hashy songs – a stiff arm down-down in an ice sandwich!
Geli and Minty, by Bozo the Clown, for breaching the “no sex on the hash” rule and indulging in public toggery of the worst kind whilst on the run

And finally, Sponge Bob Spare Pants, again by Bozo the Clown, for showering before joining the circle

Pink-footed goose

Do I need to say anything??

Short cutters

There being no other business, the Circle closed and everyone other than the clean few who’d grabbed the showers before the Circle toddled off below to clean up and prepare for the evening’s festivities. I think that it was a fairly quiet evening although I don’t remember a great deal about it. No-one seems to have posted any photos of the events. All I know for sure is that I was going to stay well away from Minty – the bastard’s sex mad when Nazma’s not around – the clutching at Lip Service’s boobs after Run 1, the kiss on ice with me after the second run and the toggery with Geli – both on the run and in the circle. There’s just no knowing what to do with him but I’m glad that Custard Tart retired to the cabin to watch DVDs rather than run the gauntlet of a Randy Minty.

Dusk fell, and …..

….. ….. the Sun Sank Slowly in the West

The Next Day

We’d motored down river a fair bit the previous evening to Shariatpur, or at least in the vicinity. The Hares took off promptly at about 09.30 (two hours late is prompt for Lip Service) and our confidence was boosted when it was announced that Warm & Fluffy who, unlike the three Hares, had not been on the recce, would go with them to show them where the run site was! She being the only Hasher smart enough to have put the run co-ords on her GPS. This is, of course, LBH’s home territory so he could not be expected to know where to go.

This was a no-breakfast morning, the decision having been made to have a big cooked brunch after the run. Ample quantities of tea, coffee, juice and biscuits were consumed whilst we motored down towards the run site. Well that was until we ran aground in mid-channel so the guys just decided to stop and hire a local boat to take us down to the start. We knew which direction to go because, despite the noise of the engines and the fact that they were three km away, we’d been able to hear the Hares arguing about which way to go all morning.

One incident of note was that we failed to repel three repulsive boarders. As we were steaming merrily along, a speedboat containing Can’t Pull, Tall Man & Smells Like Shit came bollocking up behind us and the next thing we knew the bastards were tucking into a free breakfast.

Run 1457, 21^st February 2009. Hosted by the Dhaka Full Moon Hash

Getting ashore

Serious Ooohhhs and Aaaahhs

Hares: Minty Hole, Little Big Horn and Lip Service

Leavers: Janice

Milestones: Free Titty, Sponge Bob Spare Pants & Steve have all done 25 Runs

Oh, and Pussy Pick Up may have done 100 Runs but didn’t get a certificate

AND IT WAS CRAZY DICK’S BIRTHDAY, AND WE DID GET “FUCKING WATER MELON”

LBH Hashing trail!

The Run

So, we got to the start eventually and hopped ashore. All, that is, except Old Fart whose crumpled rib cage precluded much in the way of hopping, other than in agony. There being a reasonable supply of locals foregathering, we thought we’d have a warm up and provide a bit of entertainment for them with a quick version of Father Abraham.

First paper was, surprise, surprise with LBH as Hare, pretty much straight along the shore. However this was not to be a repeat of the previous day’s walk and after a while the trail headed inland and onto some good running trails. We headed through villages and across fields with FRBs Bozo, Trek or Treat, Challenger Pickled Pussy and I generally getting lost before we found the way.

My Bumpy can walk faster than your Bumpy, Bozo

Fuckin’ ‘Ard!

Kingka-fucking-Newt

So it was that, having run a false trail and failed to find paper in other directions I heard the pack heading across some paddy to my right. Since there was a bamboo bridge conveniently adjacent I headed across this thinking the pack would turn in my direction. I was in good company here as Bozo had followed me and we ran for a while, with Lucien appearing from somewhere, until sure enough we hit paper. Mind you, we were only on it for about a hundred metres before it vanished again. The Hares claimed that this was a check but I reckon it was a fuck-up. While the others were milling about, Pickled Pussy and I found a blob of paper and headed off along the trail in search of more. None was to be found and we could not really hear the pack but reckoned they must be off to the right. So we looped around, me enjoying the solitary company of a young and fit Bumpy. So what happened next? Fucking Lucien appears from nowhere again and ruins our pleasures. Just because his missus keeps running off with other Hashers the Transylvanian bastard had to come and spoil our fun, whingeing and moaning about being left alone every time we tried to run off. Anyway we eventually found another check just as some of the rest of the pack came on it from the opposite direction. However only half the running pack was there and no Hares, so we thought we’d best wait a while.

Next to arrive were the walkers, with Minty, and finally the rest of the running pack, who the running Hares had clearly got lost with. Time for the big group photos before we set off again in search of paper. So I thought I’d better be good and stay on paper. I even went all the way back to the check when I’d run a wrong trail, unlike Pussy Pick Up who ploughed his way across the crops to catch up with the pack. From here, it would seem, the Hares had got it wrong and allowed LBH to lay paper so we ran and ran along a dead straight path until all of a sudden there was no more paper. Looking back half a mile or so we could see Lip Service leading the slower runners off to the right.

So that was it. Following paper is a mugs game, especially when it’s been laid by the lot who laid this. From here on I would rely on instinct and if that coincided with paper, all well and good, but if it didn’t, tough shit. I did drag a few others with me and eventually came to a spot that I recognised from the recce. Runners and walkers could be seen as small dots in the distance calling us back to a check – but bollocks to that – I knew where the beer was.

We got back to the start to find that Old Fart, who had managed only to make it to the top of the river bank, had been provided with a chair by the locals and was sitting there like King Canute waiting for the tide of Hashers to overwhelm him.

A great run, despite or possibly because of the lack of paper, especially on the trails that I ran!

The Circle

The Hares

Leaver

25-year olds

I’ve got a big one

Because of the late start that no-one told the chef about, no sooner were we back on board with a beer in hand than brunch was served up. Mutterings that we had to have the circle first were drowned out by those who were too hungry to care and so the quaint hash protocol of DMHHH that the circle must start within three minutes of the GM getting back was breached. What’s the problem? No-one was going anywhere and if everyone’s had a few beers before the start it can be a bit more entertaining. The brunch was excellent – bacon, egg, toast and foreign stuff …. …. and, of course, a couple of beers.

Eventually everyone had had their fill and staggered out into the sun on the after deck and the Circle got started.

Lungi Fondlers (Sex Starved Minty again)

LBH takes it in the mouth

First in were, of course, the Hares, to receive dogs’ abuse from the assembled company, mainly because they got lost with half the pack (or without half the pack – glass half-full or half-empty?). Then it was Janice who is leaving us for a bit – off to Oz. With no other notables it was time for certificates. Janice, Steve, Sponge Bob Spare Pants and Free Titty had all done 25 runs (until it was pointed out that Janice already had a 25 Run certificate), so well done them, and it was alleged that Pussy Pick Up has done 100. Unfortunately Hash Stats had managed to turn up without a 100 run certificate, so he got bugger all. Quite right too, in my view.

Finally birthday boy Crazy Dick was called in to celebrate 33 years of wasted life and distribute water melon.

RA Bozo then took charge of proceedings, proceeding with an immediate charge against Hare Minty Hole. Apparently, earlier in the day, Minty had spent most of the time lifting up little boys’ lungi when he should have been laying paper. He was, of course, satisfying a perfectly natural urge to check that they had all been properly circumcised, as you do. He claimed he was protecting Lip Service who has an allergy to loose skin, but that held no sway with judge and jury who knew it was simple sex mad, perverted, obscene and disgusting child molestation.

Minty was politely asked to remain in the circle whilst his co-Hare, LBH was found. According to that clype Lip Service they’d been at each others throats like Itchy & Scratchy all the time they were setting the run. Apparently neither of them wanted to go the way Lip Service told them it should go! LBH was given a stiff arm down-down for pouring his first beer on the deck. Since he refused to put the tube on his arm it was used as a funnel by a combined team of Bozo, Blow Job and Challenger, without a great deal of success.

Then complete injustice occurred. I, Towed, was accused of corrupting a minor (the same one that said I made her come the previous day, unfortunately). Custard Tart was invited in to join me where I was unreasonably berated for straying a tad off the paper for a couple of minutes. Apparently the silly girl had followed me. I was also accused of leading Pickled Pussy off paper, but she’s a big girl and knows her own mind, no matter how much I tried to convince her otherwise.

Led Astray

International Wankers

Certificate Loser and Born Loser

Mighty Mahmoud

Aussie John was apparently a Hash Hero for rescuing the walkers from the crocodile and piranha-infested waters of the local irrigation system and it was alleged that Trek or Treat reckoned that it was International Wankers Day. At least that was what Mad Larissa thought he said, but it transpired that he’d been making really interesting conversation by asking her if she knew that it was International Language Day. International Wankers Day sounds a lot more fun – must see if we can’t get one organised soon. Must also get Larissa a hearing aid.

Tuneless Cow and Blow Job were then called in for fucking up the circle and trying to award Janice a second 25 run certificate before we were treated to two moaning bastard Americans. Birthday Boy Crazy Dick was called in for complaining throughout the whole weekend, and to refute the claim that he was actually just a mature seven-year-old. Despite pretending to have spent 33 totally wasted years on this earth, no-one believed him. Pussy Pick Up was just pissed off that he hadn’t got his 100 Run certificate. Couldn’t they have just altered the 25 Run one that they’d tried to give Janice.

For the penultimate down-down, Bozo put forward the theory that bovine species are generally a musical lot and are readily offended when one of their number fails to live up to the standard. Tolerance of the Tuneless variety of bovine is pretty low, and so it was that they decided, when our own Tuneless one strolled through the herd that she had to be rooted out (of the herd, of course, as opposed to any other form of rooting).

Finally, Geli was invited in to collect deserved praise for his organisation of the weekend. We glossed over the fact that there had only been time for one swim (on which subject Penis spent considerable time later displaying her beautifully bruised bum to anyone that was interested, and those who weren’t, that she got because the silly cow jumped off the upper deck). Booty Shaker was also invited in to take credit for her part in the organisation as well, but having been involved in it, she said that she knew how crap it was going to be so decided not to come. Look-Alike, Towed Under, stood in for the down-down.

All that remained was to thank the dolphin-bashing recce squad of Bozo, Lip Service, LBH, Geli, Minty, Pussy Pick Up (with Zolie) and Towed for spending weeks on end finding the perfect run sites and so on.

The really final down-down should have gone to the Guide Tours management in the form of Hasan, who had done all the organisation for the recce and come with us, as well as all the on-boat management for the whole weekend. Unfortunately, and possibly quite sensibly by this stage, he was staying well out of the way!

It was all too much for them

The Aftermath

We were then set for a relaxing cruise all the way back to Narayanganj (we were actually fairly well on the way by the time the Circle was over) but paused for half an hour or so in mid-river for the more adventurous to go and frolic on some sand banks and have a swim. The photographs, had there been any, would have been interesting. After a quick shower it was time to have a beer, relax, have another beer, enjoy the scenery, have a few more beers and a crack, sing some drinking songs and have MORE BEER – or just collapse into oblivion as some did.

An excellent weekend enjoyed by everyone. Thanks once again to Geli, Booty Shaker and the others who put in the time to make it such a success.

ON ON

Towed