Bashing the Haggis

That all sounds bassackwards to me.

Back in Barretto to file this report on the events at yesterday’s Haggis Hash Bash in Pozorruio. To end any suspense, I maintained control over my drunk persona throughout a very long day. The best evidence of my success is that I made it up the stairs to my hotel room without assistance. I still drank more than I usually would over the course of the day, but this time I paced myself, stuck mostly to Zero low-alcohol beer, with no more than two an hour, and resisted taking any offered shots of the hard stuff. Or maybe I just got lucky.

Okay, let’s get to the Hash. There were two trail options: the long at 8 kilometers, and the shorter 7-kilometer version. Seeing as how I’m an older fucker with sore legs, and I had a hangover, I went with the 7K route.

And we are On-On!
Down the road…
…and into the fields.
A bushy goat on a rope.
Over a squishy suspension bridge that left me feeling a little seasick at the end.
That’s the bridge I’m talking about.
All the other Subic girls took the long trail, but Swan stuck with me.
The flatness of Pozorrubio would probably get boring after a while, but since I was seeing everything for the first time, I enjoyed the views.
Passed through lots of farm land.
A tree I fancied.
Flowers by the riverside were worthy of a photo.
We ain’t fast, so near the end of the trail we were bringing up the rear.
A horny cow.
I know what to do when I come to a fork in the road, but how do you deal with a fork in a post?
There was something about this tree I liked.
The route we walked.

Back on the farm, I changed into my new Haggis Hash shirt.

Our host was going for the Scottish school uniform look.
For all I know, he nailed it.

Given my circumstances from the night before, I hadn’t had anything to eat. Watching the lunch being prepared (and smelling the burgers on the grill) only exacerbated my hunger.

Grillin’.
Coleslaw.
Diced wieners waiting for some ketchup.
Putting it all together.
Burgers wrapped and ready to eat.
Hungry Hashers waiting for their turn.

The burgers and sides were quite delicious. I had my first beer of the day for dessert.

One of the Haggis traditions is playing various games and competitive events. We were divided into four teams and assigned a captain. A lot of the contests were physical (carrying someone, sack races, and the like), and my tired body wasn’t up for that. I told the captain I would cheerlead from the shade while I enjoyed some slow beer drinking.

Swan did a couple of events, including walking the plank.

They finished third. Swan says she is still sore.

I also videoed one minute of the Scottish dance competition:

We didn’t win that either.

Near the end of the contests, I got shamed into taking one for the team. For some reason, someone thought I was a natural for the beer-drinking event. What the hell, someone’s got to do it.

We took turns, and I was in the third position.
Once you’ve downed your beer, you hold the empty bottle over your head, and the next player begins drinking. We didn’t win this event either.

Then it was time to circle up.

Refreshments for the Hashers.
The sun calling it a day.
Hashers Circled up!
We weren’t in Germany, but we had a nice bonfire anyway.

I was one of the Scots invited into the Circle. I’ve never been to Scotland, but our Scottish host recognized that McCrarey is a Scottish name.

After the Circle, we moved back into the meeting area for dinner.

Our meal was introduced with the sweet sound of bagpipes.
A small sampling of haggis with potato sides was served as an appetizer. Like a good Scot, I ate all of mine, even though it is not my favorite dish.
The dining hall full of hungry Hashers.

One of our group members wasn’t feeling well, so our host provided a van to transport us back to the hotel after our meal.

The rest of us enjoyed some liquid refreshments at our hotel.

My day started at 9 a.m., and I was not back in my room until a little after 10 p.m. That’s a long day and a late night for me. But, much better than my Friday night, most of which I don’t remember. Scott sent me this photo as a reminder:

And now that I’m home again, we’ll get back to my more sane routines. I wired some money for the Hideaway feeding, as I wasn’t feeling up for that. I’m going to take Swan to John’s place for her birria tacos, and we’ll see how it goes from there.

A Jollibee Sunday at Hideaway.

On to December 2015 in the LTG archives. In this post, I share the continuing adventure of my efforts to get back to Korea via American Airlines. I got to meet someone semi-famous, Brooke Mueller, and travel in business class seats for the first time.

For today’s YouTube video, let’s check in with the Filipina Pea, who shares her wisdom on the reasons so many folks moving here fail to enjoy the life they imagined. I guess I got lucky, although there were some speed bumps along the way.

Humor time:

I’d rather be commatose…
Hmm, I’m retired, but I still hear voices saying things like, “One more beer won’t hurt you.”
Hiking pays! Who knew?

That’s all for now—time to get back to living in the moment.

6 thoughts on “Bashing the Haggis

  1. yesterday’s Haggis Hash Bash in Pozorruio

    Interesting spelling of “Pozorrubio.”

    stuck mostly to Zero low-alcohol beer

    Isn’t it a contradiction to call a low-alcohol beer “Zero”? Low alcohol isn’t the same as no alcohol, after all. If my soda is a “Zero,” but it contains 10 g of sugar, it ain’t “zero.”

    A bushy goat on a rope.

    That’s got to be the most dignified goat I’ve ever seen—straight from the 1700s.

    Over a squishy suspension bridge that left me feeling a little seasick at the end.

    Looks solid, though.

    I know what to do when I come to a fork in the road

    As Yogi Berra supposedly said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

    Watching the lunch being prepared (and smelling the burgers on the grill) only exacerbated my hunger.

    Burgers! Sticking with that Scottish theme, I see.

    Refreshments for the Hashers.

    Finally—a Scotch egg. But those originated in England, possibly inspired by an Indian dish. See more here.

    A small sampling of haggis with potato sides was served as an appetizer. Like a good Scot, I ate all of mine, even though it is not my favorite dish.

    I’ve never had haggis, but I’ve heard that it’s nowhere near as gross as it sounds when it’s described, mainly because of carby fillers like oatmeal.

    Well! Back home and back to the routine, then!

  2. Wow. Much bigger hash gathering that I had imagined. Takes a lot of effort to put that on. Kudos to the hosts.

    Also, thought the hash shirts were pretty clever. One of the first hiking pictures, I was like,”Why is some guy hiking in a vest and tie?”

    >…the sweet sound of bagpipes.
    Not what I would call the sound that comes from a bagpipe. LOL

  3. Looks like a day of good, clean fun. I bet you can’t wait to get back to Wet Spot, Big John.

    is the bloke with the tattyoos, in the French maid’s outfit, a fully fledged transvestite or was he just out to outdo the blokes in kilts?

  4. Brian, the once-a-year Haggis gathering is a unique and popular event. One of the largest attended Hash runs I’ve been a part of.

    Perhaps “unique” is a better description than sweet for that bagpipe noise.

  5. Kevin, that was a typo I missed when I proofread, not just a misspelling. Although I guess the end result is the same. Pozorrubio comes easier for me than Siargao ever did.

    Yes, I agree calling the low-alcohol brew Zero was a mistake. I think the San Miguel Brewery agrees, as they now have a zero alcohol/calorie beer that they’ve named “0-0.”

    I passed on the egg, but the haggis wasn’t bad. I just tried not to think of the contents.

  6. Aloysius, that bloke’s Hash name is Tiny Cunt, and he’s a straight shooter, as far as I know. Wearing the maid outfit was a joke on his part. The gal he brought was supposed to wear it and she was dealing with a monthly visit from her Aunt Flo from Redlands, so didn’t want to participate.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *