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What do you get when you let loose into a 4000 acre plot (read: plantation), two siblings from the honourable highland running tribe (read: the 'Olympiads') and ask them to set a Hash run ?

Yes, they 'treated' the poor but suspecting hashers to a 14.37 kms. (who was counting ?) touristy excursion around the scenic sights of the Harriet's domain. Indeed, this was a hash with a difference.

It began relatively innocently at the milk 'filling station' off Malindi road, from where we were led through the plantation mini-forest to a refreshingly scenic 'wet' hold, Mnarani Sailing Club.

Click here to visit website

With lovely sounds of the natural wildlife en-route the entire 5.2 kms. stretch - birds, insects and reptiles we thankfully didn't meet - it gave the aura of descending through an undeclared national reserve.

Ah, what beauty: the bridge over yonder, the array of peacefully bobbing boats, the hills and valleys gracefully out-of-reach.... who could tell what lay ahead ?

Up (puff...), up (puff....) and away we went, on-on through another near 6 km of lolling meadows of endless lazy long grass, towards the spectacular setting sun, to yet another surprise in the form of a hold, a van, and a cooler full of delightful looking Water melons - YUM !

Now, THAT'S what I call invigorating !

All reached out greedily for piece after thirst-quenching-yet-energizing piece, as they waited upon the strugglers to arrive.

Next lesson learnt ?

The early FRBs rest the longest, and gobble up the biggest and best pieces.

Then guess what ?

Even with darkness looming, we were cheerily informed that we were on the last leg home.

Thus energized, the tireringly, tireless FRBs sped off with glee, as the rest confidently strung along in the hope of keeping up; of course until reliable sources (AKA the hare) informed us we had only about four kms. to go ...

Let's just say, the reliable source helped the amateurs (read: willing-spirit-unwilling-body-parts) by 'lifting' us in his handy van to sort of help us keep up, or 'past' the frontrunners (weren't we promised in fairy tales that all hares fall asleep long enough for us tortoises to steal past and win ? ya, so let's pretend they were asleep !)

So how did the cheeky pair apologise ?

The Harriet availed her beachside resort (in the name of her residence), as the hash-home for the circle.

Words cannot describe the spectacular view of the endless ocean meeting with the endless skies only at the far-away horizon.

The calming quietness broken only by the waves breaking and occasionally crashing into the hanging cliff upon which this house is built.

And, the colourful twinkling of lights at regular fishing-boat spots as night romantically set in ... (sigh !)

(Okay, no-one mention the wiff of dripping sweat of arriving FRBs ... ahem ... carried away by the cooling winds !)

The infectious happy laughter carrying along the waves to the neighbours signified the end of a fantabulous evening, and a fantabulous 107th run.

To Mr. (unprintable) from Amsterdam: Thank you for join-ing us, we hope you travel back safely, and that the memoirs will bring you back soon !

To the Swankers and visitors: As always, thank you for actively participating, ON-ON !

If you fancy a bit of exploration around the Island and its environs/ suburbs/ outskirts, as you meet new people, while at the same time pretending to get some exercise, contact Coco-B on 0721 670129, or Cockpit on 0722 794746 for more information.

Or else, join us for Run no. 108: Saturday 11th December 2004; We meet at Nakumatt Nyali at 2.30 p.m.