In The Zone
The fact that I’d taken today off and indeed the day after this week’s run did nothing to dampen a sense of mounting trepidation whilst driving signal-less into the hinterland formerly known as the closed frontier area between Hong Kong and mainland China. Had there been a poll in the last 30 minutes? How would I know? Had the run location been changed? Did we still run on Wednesdays?
Sighs of relief were audible as we came upon the mulletted Stingray changing beside his car. I resisted the urge to throw on some Duran Duran. “Reckon this is the start,” said he. Any thoughts we were right were quickly dispelled as Golden Jelly screeched to a halt beside us and in a mixture of Cantonese, Welsh and burning rubber shouted “Wong location boyos, Wong location”. Which goes to show of course, two Wongs don’t….
Later, having been led the 100 or so metres to the correct start location we found the pack assembled and waiting for GM Salesman to arrive. He duly did and the pack, quickly fixing hairnets (he means bayonets – Ed) (No he doesn’t – FP) pissed off into an area supposedly mined and still occupied by the Japanese from WWII, before he had chance to get out the taxi.
Thronging (yes quite a turnout this week) through several villages then around fish ponds and bamboo shacks, all silhouetted by the amazing neon backdrop of Shenzen – a zillion megawatts of power all delivered by a single Octogenarian and a bicycle dynamo – such is the resourcefulness of our border brethren, the pack urged on. Fortunately, the only explosions heard were from Farty’s arse. More fish ponds, locked gates requiring a bit of ingenuity to get round, dogs and then up up up a burnt hillside to a ridge with an ever more stunning view behind us. Overcome, Walky Talky got into some serious camera action which got us left far behind and opting for the wimps trail home.
Rounding the last bend, not only were the buckets in sight but also the hare Golden Balls who, looking like something left over from an Only Fools & Horses set, had set up a kind of stall using an old table nicked from a nearby bus shelter. From here he proffered an array of food and drink, including raw carrots and hummus dips (in case we were joined by LSWH3), crisps and red wine. With such fine fare on offer thoughts of a daipaidong on on were quickly dispelled along with down downs for those who had strayed from the true path, which was most of us including those already mentioned plus Mango, Gail Say No, Eunuch, Dingaling and Sam.
Having had not run for quite some time it was great to rediscover not only the challenges of night running but also the joy of talking absolute bollocks after the run. Even that pompous prick Bamber Gascoigne couldn’t fail to be impressed by the range of topics and depth of knowledge; the size of female tennis players, the fine qualities of Turning Leaf Pinot Noir, how the Mormons got it completely wrong, Mango’s hair, Gregorian chant music…the list went on, only to be interrupted by an unmarked police car pulling up alongside us and spilling out a considerable number of unmarked police officers in search of chequered-shirt-clad illegal immigrants and Japanese soldiers. They soon fucked off though having politely declined offers of red wine and crisps. Fortunately for us they’d not concluded that there were the same number of cars as pissed hashers….
And lastly to the good news – the NT hash will not implode, well at least not for another week. Next week’s run is Sha Lo Tung. All is well. God is in His heaven. Rest ye easy.
1623 Feb 5 Eunuch
1624 Feb 12 Tangerine Dream
1625 Feb 19 Big Moany
1626 Feb 26 Stingray
1627 Mar 5 Salesman
Wednesday, January 29, 2013
Start from the bus shelter on Ma Tso Lung Road near the military firing range. Park as and where nearby.
Short and long runs, not more than an hour
Hare: Golden Balls