Sunday 9 June 2019

Beer along the track ( Horitschon Part 1 )


A week has passed after yet another astounding foray into an area more of the mind than the map. Surprisingly many members of the World's Worst held fond memories of our 25th anniversary weekend in 2007 in Horitschon in sunny Burgenland, with three runs and a train trolley ride of 23 kilometres, nicely interrupted by a grand bouffee during the ride. When we started to ponder a second time around one year ago, everything seemed to fall into place quite nicely. The owner of the hotel we stayed, the wonderful Hotel Trummer in Hortischon, remembered us becaucse of the "unusual big group size" (we were 93 back than, a little over 80 this time). Prebooking the train trolleys at their head office in Oberpullendorf (which we did 12 months ago, together with the hotel booking) was a piece of cake. Everything there was left to find and do/design was a motto, T-Shirts plus logo and two Masthead Meetings, one in November last year and one a few weeks ago in May.



And now, on with the account.

Hash Wine for Hash people


Friday evening - After the rain - Run # 1999

S.Energy, Fallen Angel, Casting Couch, Two Bob and yours truly went down to Burgenland one day early, shamelessly taking profit of an extra public holiday and having a final talk with our friend Mario, the hotel owner about beers and such. On the Friday the sunshine started and the rain and the wind ceased. After the registrations (with the usual number of latecummers) a short run started that was set by S. Energy, Fallen Angel and myself. We made a loop around the town of Horitschon, well known for its Red Wines (Blaufränkisch!) and arrived back at the hotel after 45 minutes for the first circle of the weekend. I was happy to meet up with friends whom I haven't seen in twenty years (Gwana and Frau Brau) and was delighted to see the steady number of visitors, our special mates from Zagreb, Brussels, Newcastle, Hannover (Afterglow, Rollin'Stone + 2 kids and 1 grandmother) and quite more from various chapters. The evening buffet was tasty and plentiful and a little music to entertain a few dancers was played. The evening ended not too late, given the necessary early start on Saturday morning. (Pics were made and provided by Bull's Eye). Tons of our own Moron Pics to be published when they are ready, link will be added then.

In the beginning

Out on the trail 

Gong it out! 


Saturday - Groovy Train - Run # 2000

Breakfast started early, two buses came and picked us up at 9 o'clock and left us out again at Langental. From this relatively small place located somewhere in the middle between Horitschon and Oberpullendorf there was a choice between a 12 k runners trail, set by Rear Admiral Flying Dutchman, OVH and Prof. DDr. Felch, OVH and a 6 k walkers trails, set by Casting Couch and TwoBob. There was a given time for us to get to Oberpullendorf train station - 12 o 'clock - yet both the walkers and the runners arrived at the main square in Oberpullendorf where there is a bandstand well in time to give the locals a performance of Napoleon XIV'S 1966 hit "They're coming to take me away!".

The World's Worst Hash Choir

And they're coming to take me away, HA-HAAA!!


After this short interlude it was on to the Trainstation, waiting for the cool drinks to arrive, and a short explanation as to what the train trolley ride is all about was given. We were on one of the first trolleys and had the pressing pleasure of a few well motivated trolley crews that came right behind us. Obviously these people had no intention to drink in peace and enjoy the scenerey, rather it was a crazy race for the better part of the train track. After rail kilometre 18 or so it was time for a lunch stop. Friend and Hotel owner Mario provided cool drinks (again) and a pleasant variation of salads and some meat stuff.



Off they go! 

Somewhere along the track



Lunch stop
Resting trolleys

After an extended rest for all, the trolleys were heaved back on track and it was on to the Horitschon train station. To be continued in the next post.




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