This was the first time for any Herts Hashers to venture down to run with Isca. Travelling down on the Friday was slightly hampered with the decision of avoiding the trains, with the closures to London tube lines, and opting to drive down. Heavy traffic on the way took its toll, fortunately they managed to avoid one pile up on the M4 and saved a good couple of hours, but it was still late by the time they had made it to the site.
The sun was setting and the Pack were out on the Red Dress as the Herts guys started to get their tents up and a rushed change in to their Red Dresses. Mr.X went for the lightweight sarong, while Hyena went for a homemade fat, lesbian dungaree look. A quick look into the small, green roofed club house to see if any Hashers hadn’t gone on the Red Dress was like walking in to a lion’s den, for they found that there were only a group of girls gathering (or is it flocking?) for a Hen Night and awaiting the stripper! The Lads thought better of the offer to stay and headed off on the Red Dress.
A Trail of sorts was found and the lads followed it down toward Topsham, there was a bit more of a delay to meeting up with the rest as they went off on a loop toward the Bridge Inn, but drink and food were the priorities and it was decided that they would cut back to the centre of town and go to the local chippie. Other Red Dresses were first seen by H4 there, these drunken tarts were stopping for food too.
A larger group of Red Dresses had made their way up the hill from the port, Buzby explained that the Pack were now scattered around all of the Pubs in the village and gave recommendations to, well, nearly all of the Hostelries! So the Salvation being the nearest was the first to be paid a visit by the Herts Lads. Having had their thirst encouraged by the long, hot drive down, and not satisfied by the first of many decent Ales, they set off down the hill to the Lighter.
Here they saw that some of the Pack had felt the effects of starting early. Sheila was the embodiment of inebriation as he propped himself up on a bar stool. He publicly stated his undying love for the Herts Boys, so as all of them were wearing Red Dresses in a strange Pub it was hardly a surprise that the Herts Lads soon moved on and left Mona Lisa to look after him after just the one pint in his company.
A quick pint in the Lighter before moving around to the Steam Packet, the rest of normal drinking hours was seen out in the Passage House Inn. Last orders heralded a stagger back to base to find the Bar was open. There were a couple of lasses remaining from the Hen night, needless to say each time one of the Hashers walked in there were comments about whether the men were the strippers? As if a lot of these Hashers need an excuse to get their clothes off!
There was some food left over from the Hen Party that the Hash were encourage to eat, but this wasn’t all as the club dished out a load of hot pasties and cheese slices, just the thing to soak up the excellent ale on offer. All of these Pies kept the likes of Mouldy Dick and Hyena happy, not sure if they ate all of them but I think you could make a song out of it!
Here the Herts trio got a proper welcome from Night Screecher and the rest of the Isca crew. Mr. X took the opportunity to run a few things over with Foghorn about a UK Nash Hash Trail he would be involved with. By coincidence Isca were setting a Nash Hash Trail as well and Mr.X wanted to see how the weekend would plan out.
Morning had broken and the Hash was amazed at the breakfast the club had put out. There aren’t many times that you get a Full Monty fry up with local thick bacon and even smoked kippers! With lots to do in the day it was going to be an early start, and once breakfast was dealt with it was time to get dressed.
Most of the Hashers adorned themselves with togas, some with Roman armour. Whyno!’s outfit was supposed to be a Gladiator, but he is no Russell Crow and his costume consisted of a Hessian sack and a huge fork, this was supposed to be a trident but looked more like the type of thing Hyena or Mouldy Dick would eat with! Mouldy’s outfit looked like an ancient Britain dressed in a stripy deckchair!
Iron Maiden and Mona Lisa both opted for wearing Cleopatra Egyptian outfits and they stood out among the Romans, but the real odd one out from the crowd was Hyena who opted for less ancient 20th Century jeans (yes I know it’s now the 21st Century but you should see the style of his jeans!)
The legions set off toward the village to catch the train up to the Roman City of Isca (Exeter), the looks that the Pack received as they went marching on were just a taster of what was to come. The train driver had a large smile on his face as his two carriage sprinter approached the platform, with the majority of the Hash decked out in white sheeting it must have looked like an outing from the local laundry!
The Hash packed out both of the carriages for the short journey up to the next stop of Exeter. A walk up the steps for quick gathering at street level outside the front of the Station, the Hare was introduced to the Pack and the Isca markings explained. After all of which the Keenies ran off in all direction but seemed to fail to find anything at first. Eventually the Trail was found hidden away at the end of the parade of shops, it led on a footpath running high up above the railway line.
The Pack had began the historical tour of Isca, the Trail made its way up through a small park tucked away from the main streets before moving the Pack on around to the main high street, which still retains some ancient buildings.
As the Pack made their way down through the now pedestrianised area between the rows of shops, Mr.X and a few of the Keenies persuading the Hare to slightly move the CHK so it was now outside of the local branch of Anne Summers, the Hash regrouped here and were just as amused as the two girls who worked there and had come out to see what all of the hollering was about.
The Trail resumed, more tourists, locals and students were entertained as the legion of white ghost like apparitions, well it was a heavy night, moved away from the main shopping area to run out in front of the Cathedral. A CHK there ensured that everyone had a good look at this ornate building.
Time to move on and those from Herts with a little local knowledge were a bit disappointed not to go by Francis Drakes favourite Pub, but then again were quite happy not to pay a visit to the Exeter Underground passages. The set of underground tunnels were built to supply water from springs up the hill to the Cathedral below, they are well worth a visit providing you are not claustrophobic or very large as it is a bit of a squeeze in places.
The Pack moved on to run on what looked like part of a Roman wall before descending the hill, the Trail weaved its way down to the regenerated port area. There were quite a few who by now were feeling the effects of the previous night and they took advantage of the local coffee shop and the Spar around the corner for a non-alcoholic beverage!
After a short trot around the water ways and over the connecting footbridges, the Pack regrouped out on an open cobbled area to pick up the Bus, where there was plenty of mineral water waiting there for the thirsty.
Having completed the first part of the days Trail the Pack were bussed out to Otterton. Once away from the city it was a pleasant drive through the winding, rustic lanes to the small village. The Pack disembarked by the green, which was with in sight of the King’s Arms pub, and no matter how much Buzby reiterated the fact the Hash should not go in there and have an unofficial beer stop it just wasn’t going to happen.
A short cut straight up the residential steep hill was put down before the main Trail Hashers ran on by the King’s Arms, half of the Pack failed to get any further and popped in for a quick one. For most this meant using the toilet before joining the rest at the Bar. The few locals who were in the Pub were astounded to be invaded by hoards of Romans, one asked Mouldy Dick if he was supposed to be Christ in his white robe but before Mouldy could reply Mr.X had jumped in with his best Monty Python old woman accent to declare that “He is not the Messiah, he’s just a very naughty boy!”
Sheila and a few others picked the ale that had just gone and had to return them, while they waited for a fresh one, the rest started to finish of theirs and make a move. The Short Cut look very appealing, especially after the time that was used up enjoying the pit stop, so it was up the steeper climb of the street on the Catson hill, three quarters of the way up this and the Trail went off to the right on a dead end lane.
Things became more rustic as the Houses were left behind, one side of the old lane was a bank of brambles and nettles, and once beyond the last of the properties, the opposite side sharply dropped away to the river below. The tarmac finished and warning signs of landslides met the Short Cutters as they approached a steel gate, beyond this a footpath started to drop away by way of a ledge on the sheer bank of red earth.
The dust went down a set of steps to cross over the river. Once down on the west bank, the trail led the Pack by an aqueduct, it was a pleasant trot along through the meadow beside the river. At a CHK by a small brick bridge, the Trail turned off of the footpath and took to another rustic lane from South Farm.
The Keenies were caught out when they reached a CHK by a footpath running through the end of a wood, they were soon on their way back when “On!” was called from a footpath a little further on, that runs through a field at the end of the wood. There was plenty of shiggy as the pack made their way from the kissing gate to follow a footpath in to a wild strip of land between wet pastures and the high bank on the opposite side. The path wound its way along the drier ground on its way out to the edge of the homes of Budleigh Salterton.
The Trail made its way out of the overgrown scrub to the beer stop. This was quality, no cheapo cans of beer here, oh no! It was bottles of quality ale which pleased the Herts Lads no end. By now the previous days gorging had taken its toll and Mr.X made a discreet exit down to the local Cricket Club to use their facilities. The Barman said it was alright but didn’t quite expect to see a Hasher hanging his disrobed toga, a bed sheet, from the cubicle door.
A few pounds lighter and after Pint of Otter at the Cricket Club Bar, Mr.X rejoined the Beer Stop. The last of the walkers were now Inn and it seems that Mouldy, Whyno! and Sheila may have had more than one more beer at the Pub as they noisily wobbled into get a free Beer at the Beer Stop before the Pack tackled the sea!
Time to move on and it was only a short trot up to the sea front, over the wall and down over the shingle beach to a blue vessel lay waiting, the booze battle weary Romans trooped up the gangway to get on board. The ship’s bar was open, so it was straight down from the top deck to start on the Otter down below, some returned back up on deck when the boat got underway. Strangely Sheila and the Geordie Lads didn’t venture upon deck and like the Herts Lads didn’t wander too far from the bar.
Now the Barsteward had a little problem with the token system to start with, it hadn’t been explained that the Hash were supposed to use these for discounted ale, he didn’t quite understand what price the Hash were supposed to get the pints for. After a bit of a showy tantrum from him, he was finally sent back by the Skipper and the Hash got the beer at a reasonable price.
Now the boat hadn’t been at sea for long, and it was a little choppy out there, this rocking motion was not conducive for one Hasher’s condition, it was clear that this was a boat full of Romans and not Pirates as there was no jolly roger on board, there was only a sickly Roger the Lodger, who hastily made his way down to the head [toilet] (Who said Head?) to barf.
The galley served up an excellent choice of roast beef or pork, two different types of stuffing, and various veggies, it was turning out to be a gourmet weekend for the Hash. Poor old Roger wasn’t going to have much fun as the boat followed the coast line around to the estuary of the Exe, at least it became calmer as the Hash sailed on up river. It was quite a way before the boat had to dock, but what a place to stop at when the Hash piled in to the remote Pub (The Turf Lock Hotel) with nothing near it for miles.
Another good choice of venue for Real Ale, most of the Pack sat out in the garden over-looking the estuary and admired the rural scenery. The Circle was called and there were going to be plenty of Down Downs as there were three RAs to conjure up some wicked reasons to pick on the Pack, as well as a barrel of beer sitting out on the bench.
Mr.X had wanted to have Mona Lisa out for a Down-Down as dressing as one of the Cleopatra's but since she was alternatively engaged at the time a stand in was sought and Mouldy Dick was chosen to be her doppelganger and take her Down-Down. Just to make sure that those who hadn’t had a Down-Down were left out Mr.X explained about the Roman use of Decimation, so every tenth Hasher in the Circle was picked out to have a Hit. At one point Lightning was told to go and play in the water, so he ran off to the bank side and messed about on the small wooden jetty, well out the way of the circle but it wasn’t to last and he returned, just in time for a Down-Down!
It was a decent and funny Circle as the usual Suspects were in and out of the Circle, with of course Lightning was there and was joined by the likes of Sheila, Mouldy Dick, Whyno! amongst them, others who were tarred with the same brush as these reprobates were the Herts Lads! Things weren’t allowed to go on for too long and get boring, the Pack were allowed to resume drinking for a sensible amount of time.
Back inside the Bar, out of the cold breeze, the Pack got to see Dudley Sutton, the Actor who played Tinker in Lovejoy, with a comment on the Hash’s dress from him, it was soon established that he wasn’t in “I Claudius”!
Time leave and to wander on a bit further toward base by following a reed lined footpath running between the river and the canal, this long straight stretch looked like it would be miles back to any type of civilization ahead. But like the Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy there was no need to panic, for the Trail suddenly stopped and turned down to a short wooden jetty. The Hash looked out over the wide flat river to spy the outskirts of Topsham, to get across these flats was by way of a small dingy that ferried everyone over.
On the last boat trip over, the Herts Lads and Cup Cake were heard to sing the Worzels’ “I got a brand new combine harvester” in appreciation of the ferryman’s accent! He was duly impressed, as were the rest of the Pack, who had so far gone unnoticed until they cheered from the bank-side garden of Passage House Inn until hearing the singing as the boat draw closer to land.
The ferryman joined the party for a drink. Which inadvertently left a couple of civilian walkers stranded out on the others bank, they were spotted by the Hash but by the time the ferryman had got back to his craft, they had wandered off.
While most set off to change for the evening, the Herts Lads took a slight detour on the way back as they veered off to pay the Bridge Pub a visit, making up for not going there the night before and have a beer for old times sake. It seems that this small group of drunk Romans were too much for one civilian tourist, he thought they were too loud and abandoned one of the small front parlour rooms of the Pub.
Back at base and having showered Mr.X was asked to guard the open doorway by Mona Lisa to prevent any of the local cricket team stumbling in upon the Harriettes, valiantly he stood there with his robe outstretched over the portal. There was a lot of giggling as the girls finished and came out wearing swim wear, so he was cruelly kept away from his pint for all of that time!
Some watched the end of the cricket match, no idea if the home side won or lost but it was time for another round of food and again a great feast was had with a Barbeque. Hyena and Mouldy must have been in heaven!
Flip Top had arrived to stage the evening’s disco, he was saved from wearing his toga by Mr.X, who explained that they were worn on the run but in hindsight he should have let him get changed and look the odd one out.
The evening just flew by, or so it seemed. Moneypenny, Mona Lisa and Iron Maiden were among the many girls who first took to the dance-floor, this encouraged the rest to join and the chaps followed on. Soon the likes of Lightning and even Hyena were strutting their stuff, though Made Marion opted to sit at the Bar and enjoy the real Ale.
Mouldy and Whyno! looked like they were jigging about to a cross between the funky chicken and the funky gibbon! If that was bad enough then the onlookers got to see Sheila dance with Borange! Dr. Z was more energetic and was out there in the crowd performing the actions to YMCA, was that a request from Sheila and Borange?
The Disco went on to the early hours as the evening was danced away in the usual inebriated Hash way. Things began to peter out around 01:00 Hrs, Hairy Bell Knob was one who flaked out and was pictured asleep at one of the tables at the rear of the club house, it made a good shot as he had Cup Cake’s shiny red handbag sitting in front of him.
Another huge breakfast set the Hash up for the day, while the rest set about the Sunday recovery run, the Herts lads set off on the long journey home vowing to return for another Roman Away weekend, but next time using the Train. Well done to Buzby, Night Screecher & the rest of the Isca committee, Mr.X left happy in the knowledge that the Isca Trail at UK Nash Hash would be a good one.
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