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Mad Dog's Monograph
At Mojacar it was difficult to understand how all paths and most roads are exceptionally narrow and only go uphill, generally up endless steps. Cars had to be parked a good distance from any hostelry and all luggage hauled up, without the benefit of any sherpas, prayer mats, directions, or prayer flags. One of the features of Mojacar are the dumper trucks as these are the only vehicle which can get round the narrow streets. At night these are fitted with square wheels and driven with a nonchalant expertise around the narrow paths and up steps to keep lazy hashers awake. The dumper-trucks are used for the collection of domestic rubbish, deliveries to shops and as a taxi service for local drunks. For the second year the circle was brought to an early end, on the saturday, because of somebody objected to the music, or the noise.There was no possibility of negotiation, or of any continuity without ACAS negotiators, or a violent contest for which we were not prepared to loose either face, beer or blood.
For any newcomers to the Mojacar Hash there is a simple way of finding your way round all the narrow streets. All you do is to follow chalk marks to Gordon’s Bar where you are bound to meet other Hashers (easily recognised by the Hash teeshirts, strange hats or sarongs)! Or you can go around the town chasing the invisible sawdust or chalk trails laid by the hares down to the beach to some remote farm house to get a well earned beer, or a barbecue snack.
Evening meals were another matter. Although restaurants had been selected and reservations made in advance, these always seemed to get changed at the last minute. Somehow most of us convened at the appropriate venues, except for our last supper at which the Brigadier gave a concluding speech for which at least four hashers had become lost or bogged down at another restaurant. Rumour has it that all enjoyed a good evening and excellent food and even managed to return to their correct beds and none were run over by dumper-trucks.
I think it was on Monday that we were supposed to play boules on the beach …but no boules turned up. So Fixer had the idea of using large pebbles instead. People on the beach were amused to see Control Freak, Oh La La!, 3 Litre Anita, Smutley, Mad Dog, Taxidermist and several others going from one bar to the next by throwing stones. For the last brandy-run (tuesday) we went on a geological tutorial up to the radio masts behind and above Mojacar, led by our informed geologist Icepyk. At that stage many hashers were conspicuous by their absence and some had already bade their farewells for another year, as our desperate and disparate group of Indonostalgic Hashers in Exile went their separate ways with more memories and unknown futures. Long may our memories live on and Nostalgic Hashes continue. Always take your own plugs.
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