A slight imbalance in the demographics of Southall was noted on the eve of the 06th June as West London’s intrepid hashers followed “P” after “P” after “P” after “P” (to the power of infinity) to a random point on a Punjabi pavement; where incidentally there was nowhere to pee. Brookside Close was location “A” with a postcode for Hayes (UB4) as opposed to Southall.
The On On led initially to Minet Country Park, a borough Grade 1 Site of Nature Conservation Importance, complete with a pongy klong that constituted the first of the promised river crossings. Or possibly this was the local tributary of the Ganges, silted as one hasher postulated with the ashes of the locally deceased. So ming, rumour has it, that multiple hashers may be sporting new shoes next week!
The On On was rather industrial for a while before meeting and following the more picturesque Grand Union canal, where Thunder Thighs wanted to pee but instead pulled a potential new pet in the form of a handsome canal dwelling creature who gave her the thumbs up, she however became much more interested in watching the rat eating a Tesco’s sandwich. Our observation of the local wildlife continued when we all had a really good look at a bloated dead swan-who needs Spring Watch?
Two hashers were almost wiped out on route to Cranford Park… Freeloader’s ankle disappeared down a hole and Guilty went splat. We passed by a Church and all worshiped the ground that Rambo – before us – had so carefully walked on (NOT!). Some wondered how, that without a dog to walk, one could have come across such interesting locations? River crossing two, complete with rope swing, was delightful, being of pure spring water, but now sadly polluted with the remnants of UB4 that still clung to our trainers.
Still rather confused as to the location of “B” we hurdled a barrier and a few gates, ran over glass and through nettles, and hung out around the perimeter fence of Heathrow; it really did look like there had been a crash landing, and in fact there was; Man Magnet tripped on barbed wire, after which there were two conveniently located mattresses for the injured hasher to rest on; she now sports a hole in her shoe, although that may just be an enlarged version of one that had been there before. At some point, somewhere on this almost 8 mile trail- and that does not include the 1.5 miles P trail from Southall station to point A- a blistered Kenny took off her shoe and ran and hopped the rest of the trail like a kangaroo.
On Inn was a sunset affair to The Green Man in Hatton Cross -Point B – phew; good prices for a beer and curry and a hole in the wall near the gents toilets. Apparently this hole was for hiding priests, but luckily for Pope his beer belly was too large to stick him in there. Down downs were rather late, and, taking place as they did less than half a mile from the threshold off the live runway, we decided that it was etiquette to speak and sing between planes, and then down beer as they passed, only a few hundred feet above our heads. A new hash song was “invented” at this disco pub that had music pumping out in to the beer garden … “Always look on the bright side of life …” down down down down…..
Thanks to Rambo for setting the trail and for chauffeuring bags; you had a pretty good turnout given your reputation and the location … but no virgins or returnees or guests so you were rewarded with three well deserved down downs! “Na kaleni, suka”* says Shakes Beer who was practicing her Russian … but I think that was just for the trek from the station to start which took her over 30 minutes!
* On your knees bitch in Russian