That said…I spent the weekend in the Mediterranean coastal town of Javea (pictured above); located between the Spanish cities of Valencia and Alicante. I was there because the Madrid Hash House Harriers held an “Away Hash” that was attended by nearly one hundred Hashers; some of whom flew in from Germany, Switzerland and England.
Our Saturday run took place near a large orange grove in the middle of nowhere. Before the run began, we gathered ‘round for a briefing and were informed that we would—at one point—be passing through the scenic grounds of the Fontilles Leper Colony.
“Ha ha,” I thought to myself. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it.”
And so…the run began. Forty-five minutes into it, we passed through an old stone gate and into a large, walled complex of columned buildings, intricate ceramic works and wide lawns. We ran down a tiled walkway and around a corner. And as we rounded the corner, who do you think was there to greet us?
A smiling old man in a wheelchair. Waving to us with his right hand. Which, I should mention, was missing all of its fingers.
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