In a dusty car park just outside the ring road, amid hordes of devotees sowing seeds on Bala Chaturdashi festival, a worthy band of 38 Hashers gathered for an unusual Sunday morning run. The foregoing should be sufficient explanation to Duckbill as to why she was bombarded with rice and corn, rather than the usual half bricks, whilst negotiating the first couple of checks through the temple area. The reason for the Sunday run was to celebrate England's predictable victory in the Rugby World Cup.

The run briefing was somewhat indistinct as I happened to be standing next to Towed Under and Connie who were catching up on the last two months, but I did gather that there were something like 12 checks announced, three of which would be holding, but I have no idea which ones, and the possibility of false trails and river crossings.

First paper was down the road, up the alley and across the bridge and heading off into the assembled masses. Checks and trail were equally indistinct amidst the scattering of the aforementioned seeds, not to mention the difficulties of following anyone or hearing the cries of "on-on" amidst the devotees, so considerable guidance was required from the Hare as to where exactly the paper led and where there may, or may not, have been checks. The early trail led up through the temple then back down to the river, ghats and ghoulish spectators before heading out into gloriously flat and open countryside.

A long run out along a gravel road followed, beside the river and past the end of the runway, with possibly another two checks before a short stiff climb up to a village and eventually to a holding check, possibly No. 4. No sign of the walkers, and even if there had been Run C was in no mood to wait. "Check it out" was swiftly called and it was eventually Towed who found the paper, having been down to the river and back up again to meet short-cutting Keeled Over at the top of the hill. The trail ran through villages and fields from here, eventually getting into some wild and steep countryside carved from the sand deposits by invisible streams.

Eventually another Holding Check (8?) was found on a high ridge in the pine forest, although not by Rotter who was spotted way down in the valley below. From here we could see exactly how far it was back to the On-In. The trail from here led back down to the river, but not by the way I went, and from here on there was no paper. Meeting up with Rotter back down by the river we decided that our hangovers deserved better treatment and elected for a gentle walk back, aware that the rest of the pack were somewhere off to our right. Eventually finding paper close to the civilisation we enjoyed the jostle of the crowds (two rear views in particular) as we wended our way back through the temple area to the On-In, being caught by virgin Ross shortly before our arrival.

It is said that beggars can't be choosers, so why did they all choose the Hash to congregate round? Fortunately we were protected by a hennaed, tone deaf flautist who somewhat misguidedly decided that he could wring some small change out of the GM for keeping the others away. Various people (notably Griots and Segals) seemed to decide that the circle wasn't worth waiting for (is it ever?) and disappeared in a cloud of dust and small stones. Before the exodus became mass, the Master called the circle to order and the Hares into the middle for judgement.

I think that a swift 9.9 was awarded, but recollection of the circle is similar to that of the previous afternoon, so it may have been 99.

Other down downs were awarded as follows:
- Virgins Saphala, - another mate of Yogi Hare's, Ross - a trainee brain surgeon, Numraj, and Ngudu - Tibetgal's big brother visiting from the Big Apple;
- Ross again for admitting to liking the Hash;
- Leavers Hayden and No Balls on their way back to the land of the Pink Floyd;
- Blokes Rotter, Keeled Over and Towed, nominated by Towed Under for enjoying themselves at the rugby on Saturday (it was even alleged that Rotter keeled over at the final whistle!);

And finally the Hashit, in the absence of any other nominee, was awarded to Run Crafty for blaming Yogi Hare for all the cock ups on the run.

Thanks to the Hares for proving that you don't have to go miles out on the north side of the valley (like they usually do) to get a decent run in (sort of) open countryside and to Mrs Rotter for the great dip and biscuits as well as the usual hash catering.