France. La Belle France.
Throughout the ages this country has been renowned for its dedication to the arts, philosophy, literature, architecture, gastronomy and romance; historical French characters are a plenty, and it is a wonder that with such a rich and diverse heritage that today the French folk that we encounter seem to have abandoned their ancestry and more closely represent the garlic loving, snail chewing, onion selling reprobates that we in England have had to call neighbours, forever.
Many years of conflict have been the highlight of the Anglo-French relationship, and when the Brits weren’t handing out a good beating to the frogs we were probably busy defending them from other enemies. Today the French flag has evolved from the original plain white flag that used to be flown across the country and incorporates some blue and red bars, as if to deny the existence of the ANCIENT white standard.
So, as far the PH3 themed run that took place yesterday, Bastille Day remembrance it was indeed. 14 July is considered the national day for France and celebrates the occasion when about 250 years ago the proletariat rose against the bourgeoisie, smashed down the Bastille Prison, released all the ne’er do wells and started decapitating just about anyone with power, influence or money. Down with the monarchy, off with their heads, vive la republique!!!! You have to admire the collective will of the people to stage such a coup, a remarkable event in history, but also be amazed that after such a rebellion, that the monarchy was reinstated less than a generation later. Which all goes someway to explaining the mentality of the French hares today, confused, disorientated but still somehow undeniably French, except of course for VV who is most often Belgian, but turns to being French for special occasions. Something Stupid (rags master, awards master and owner of a new but not properly functioning hip) was the lead hare, accompanied by Something Kinder, who is remarkably still married to the Rags Master, and still remains remarkably cheerful and sane, Parisian Titi (the logistics master and designated driver) and the previously mentioned Belgian.
In true French style, the hares couldn’t agree on the length of the runner’s trail in the briefing they gave, eventually settling on 8 km, with 5km for the walkers but all with the caveat that the first 1 km or so was jungle trail where any form of passing or overtaking would be difficult. Accordingly, there was quite a rush to set off, no one wanting to get stuck behind some of the slow-moving vehicles (did you know that the French army was the first to incorporate reverse gears in their tanks?) that would be blocking the path. And so it was, single track through bushes and tall grass, some tapioca until, without any real surprise the pack hit the first of several stretches of water – one of which could barely be described as water, it was so foul and dank. Thankfully, the later stretches of water were cleaner and helped clean some of the shit from our shoes.
Other parts of the trail involved precipitous ridges where a misplaced step would lead to imminent death (or a nasty fall anyway), sandy tracks and plenty of thorns. All in all, a good trail with plenty of variety and challenges, but well short of the announced 8 km – probably closer to the 6 km that the scribe recorded.
Back at the A site, the two normal French hares were handing out pastis to runners and walkers as they returned. The only one who was disappointed was the GM who was expecting to feed himself to death on Pasties, probably of the Cornish variety, but still managed to receive the hospitality of the hares with grace (does having three qualify as graceful?) Meanwhile, the other French hare, SS (how ironic) was distributing red wine from a box, a scene that would not be tolerated in the wine consuming and wine producing capital of the world, he would be in line for a trip to the guillotine for such sacrilege for sure. The Belgian hare was doing what he does best, after laying trail, namely cooking burgers and cutting cheese into bite-sized chunks (it’s noticeable how long the snacks last when certain individuals aren’t in attendance!).
So, with appetites sated and wine and beers being drunk the circle got underway with the usual events – fashion police, hash crash, hash trash etc – all details of which can be perused at your leisure under circle notes on the run report page on the website, thanks to the tireless work of Dirt Looney, but what won’t be recorded will be the antics of the previously silent visitor from Darwin, Crusty Crabs. Clearly the ice cold beers went straight to his head as his circle persona was so different from the first circle and run version of this guy… let’s just say “outspoken” was his finest quality, and when the time came for him to visit the bucket he did so with his shorts and pants around his ankles…it’s prudent at times like this to remind visitors (especially the male ones) that no one wants to see your genitalia despite the constant baying for “skin” but luckily for most of the circle, the jelly bean masquerading as a male appendage was barely visible…claims of it being so, due to the extreme cold (before he got in the bucket) were met with an appropriate level of mirth and ridicule.
Elsewhere in the circle Emperor Airhead presented some ‘high-quality Australian wine’ (an oxymoron there) to this year’s most prolific hares so far, Shy Tiger and Two Time claiming the bottles – perhaps someone will remember to enquire as the quality next week??
It seemed like no time at all had passed yet it was time for the Hares song – hares that have no history of singing, so it would be of interest. Surprisingly, habitual non-singer VV didn’t take his spot on the ice but decided to join the hares with their chanson. Bad choice. Quel Malheur. La Marseillaise can never have been treated quite so poorly. Woeful singing, but more to the point who needs to read the words of their national anthem? Answer, Les Frogs! Catastrophe! Emmene-les dans les donjon!
Back at Monna Bar more beers and food graced the tables, Crusty Crab demonstrated that there was more than a bogan delinquent side to his character – he has an important job in Government, so I was told (which may explain the awful state of politics in that country), England completed the beating of India at Lords and Chelsea began their 4-year tenure as World Champions.
If Carlsberg did hash days….. I guess the beer would be crap.
However, Merci Beaucoup to the hares for their considerable efforts and generosity; Allez les Bleus from your favourite Rosbif.
On On till next week. The Wizard