VENUE: St Nicholas Abbey, St Peter
DATE: 19 November, 2005
HARES: Wayne, Allan, George, Damian, Patsy and Robert
SCRIBE: Graham "Dick Doc" MacGeoch
On a beautifully sunny, clear, blue-sky day, the 20th anniversary run of the Barbados Hash was held at the St. Nicholas Abbey Plantation in the northern parish of St Peter.
St Nicholas Abbey is an old plantation yard and the main house, which was built in 1650, is the only home in Barbados with a fire and a chimney. The landed English gentry wished for a touch of home! We needed no fire nor chimney to keep us hot on Saturday.
Parking was at a premium, and the long walk down the enchanting driveway, with the old grass tennis court on one side and the flapping guinea fowl on the other, saw us enter the open area by the mill where the tents, stalls and Hashers all gathered. It was a jamboree occasion. Flags, tables and chairs, stalls with shirts of all descriptions for sale, bars overflowing with hashers pre-loading with draught Banks -- over 250 hashers in all -- a very far cry from the first run at Inch Marlowe with 10 runners and a case of Carib beer.
"Great to see you" was a familiar cry as Hashers of bygone years and redundant local Hashers, out for the day, joined in the welcome. Spammy, Zeddy, Jeannie Jenkinson, Linda Adjemian -- some of the originals -- along with past HMs, Barry Johnson included, all mingled with the visiting Antiguans, St Kittians, Jamaicans and the posse from Caracas. From Canada to Cambodia, UK to USA and of course the Trini Posse proudly making their plans to be in Germany next June for the World Cup. The FRBs however were not phased, they did their stretches, avoided the beer tent, checked their watches and awaited the ON.
The six Hares, the Bajan Posse of Wayne, George, Patsy, Allan, and Robert, plus that stray egg Damian, were all summoned before the visiting RA, Stan the Man from Pakistan/Afghanistan or some other "stan", who performed a ritual blessing ceremony. It needed a translator, although I did catch coitus non-interruptus. Whatever was he thinking about at that time of the day? Tall George, tousled hair and dark glasses, clearly was the lead Hare. To an incredibly attentive audience he informed us that there were three runs -- "STOP and STARE", "GRIN and BEAR" and "DE BALL BREAKER".
The Stop and Stare's were to head north and the others to head south.
Duly said, the runners thronged down the beautiful Mahogany Avenue, with the cacophony of excited voices reverberating through the magnificent tall trees. We came out onto Cherry Tree Hill, the most famous view point of Barbados, with a splendid view of the magnificent scenery of the aptly named Scotland district. A check greeted us -- the first flour we had seen on the run. Could we find the On -- not at all. We were down the mountain, in the sugar cane, and up and down Mahogany Avenue more often than a pair of whore's knickers on a good night. Finally the On was called -- a massive back check, all the way back to Nicholas Abbey, passed the tents, the beer stalls, the disco and heading north into the route of the Stop and Stare. The Hares stood, musing, and torrents of abuse were hurled at them. They smiled.
Forty eight hours later I reflected on this ploy. Did the Hares wish us to see the wonderful view from Cherry Tree Hill -- yes. Did they wish to give the Stop and Stare a half hour start on the runners -- yes. Did they go and lay flour on the back check AFTER we had started the run-yes Did they know that the founder and original HM, "Pyro" David Craig, along with "Highlander" and "Lady Cowdenbeath" had been quaffing beers in the Yellowbird and were arriving horrendously late -- yes, yes, yes.
So after the most bizarre start to a run in the 20 year history of this Hash, we were finally off and running. And running it was, up and down through canefields, across rock-strewn long-grassed fields, heading to the north coast. We sighted Basil's Erection, a wind-power phallic high on a hill, built by that non-Scottish engineer, Basil Cooper, a famous runner in the early days of the BH3. At least as a Hasher he was able to leave a permanent mark on the island, although his erection has not worked for many years. However it did remind one Hasher of the Angel of the North statue in Newcastle. Interesting!
Checks were reasonably frequent, good checks too, keeping the Hash together. Runners stumbled, a few fell on the rocky down slopes of St Lucy. "Clepto", that world famous film producer in the green thong, asked for action replays of the falls and we all obliged. Watch yourself perform like an ass -- all for free on his DVD. Humour was good, the banter fair. Marshy wet areas were encountered. Hashers splashed each other deliberately. We espied the walkers at various locations, until at the top of the hill overlooking Cove Bay the "Grin and Bear" and "De Ball Breakers" were separated -- surgically. Great to see so many Harriettes with balls, especially those who had been thonging it and rolling their bellies the night before at the Night of Arabia.
We headed down towards Cove Bay and then up the secluded path on the slope, where in earlier years a fornicating couple had been amazingly startled at 4pm on a Sat afternoon by a throng of Hashers running by. The cry was no longer ON ON but ON IN! Memories. I believe that could well have been coitus interruptus -- non? Where is Stan from Pakistan for an explanation?
Back to the run. Long and hot. Water was at a premium. Standpipes were a welcome blessing. We ran through villages and up to a check at Foster's Fun Land. Which way was home -- no one knew. Walkers were spotted high on a hill, so off we went, climbing, slowly, up and up, finally on to the tarmac road leading back to Cherry Tree Hill. A few ran, most walked and chatted. The On lead us off the road and up a steep grass track through the trees. Dusk was falling, the sun had disappeared. It was 5.30 pm -- 2 hours out on the run. Official sunset 5.40pm.
Out of the trees the light improved and the aroma of beer was near. The runners sprinted in, past straggling walkers. The beer tent was already a buzz. The floodlights blazed and there was a warm glow all around. Hashers trickled back, in the dark, and the run was talked about at length. Beer flowed. The Trinis still discussed the World Cup, and how, when they beat Brazil in the Final, there would be a four year holiday until they went back to defend the Cup in South Africa!!! The HM Roger the "Biafran", oversaw his troops. Beer flowed. Then on to the Down Downs led initially by "Barely Able" Rob Bateson, in his last major performance in Barbados before he heads off with his Sheila to the land of never-ending gum trees. Beer flowed. I make no apologies for not knowing much about the Down Downs. Rub a dud dub I was off for me tucker. I do, however, have this image of a Bishop standing tall with a Union Jack mitre on his head. Perhaps after his sermon he set off for St Nicholas Abbey to sit by the fire and reflect with the ghosts of his ancestors over a glass of rum!
I will not mention the raffle draws as I did not win any prizes. However--beer flowed.
I will however offer my congratulations to the organizing committee for this anniversary bash. From the moment I stepped out of my car on to Worthing Beach for the Full Moon Run and saw the floodlights, the tents and the bars, I thought if this is to be the standard, then it would be a great five days. So it proved to be. Each run and social event was a huge success and as an ex HM I appreciate the organizational skills, the time and the thankless commitment required to pull this off. You should all be well pleased and proud over what you have done.
ON ON FOR THE NEXT 20 YEARS!!!
