It is not possible to set an original trail for Surrey on Chobham Common, but No Nookie and Shit For Brains did set an interesting one.  There was a variant at the start; when we begin northwards, we usually go further before turning, so the first check had an unexpected solution.  This brought us to the usual roundabout, rather dangerous for runners, and the usual path south, and so forth.  Speaking of brooms, today the broom was in brilliant colour, outdoing its prickly rival gorse.  Well, it is spring, and the sun shone on our morning.  The checks were solved so swiftly that I asked my companions if we should ever see the front runners again; this question was resolved by a sip-stop, with very elegant drinks on offer. This was on a part of the Common beloved of Petal, at the summit of the only steep hill for miles. I noticed that the handles of those with me, Belcher, Blunder, Bonn Bugle, were alliterative, and reflected that of my own handle I can these days claim only the B with any confidence.  Though the pace was brisk enough; we covered 7 Km in 70 minutes, sip-stop included (well, the front runners took less, but they were not then that far ahead).  No Nookie came round with us; at one point she admitted with disarming candour that we were not checking at that moment, there was simply no flour. In fact we all knew where to go, to the customary tunnel, Chunderos in full voice to test the echo (yes, there were other children with us today), and so to the customary road-crossing and the On In, Atalanta overtaking us at the very last moment.  The solutions to the checks were often quite far away; all credit to Dr Death for resolutely pressing on and so solving one of the furthest.

  The Circle began early, once Bonn Bugle had decided where to set up the table, and went on so long that even Body Shop, doing his own thing, joined us before the end.  The GM distributed cans of lager to her committee, for holding the fort in her long absence; our new RA Bigfoot came up with variant versions of the usual song, taking his victims in small groups. The pack included his wife Missing in Action and their son, new to hashing – and at his age of course very fast, and already confident enough to join the repartee which enlivens our Circles.

  Newspapers in this country are coy about their stance 115 years ago when Votes for Women was an issue. Only one paper was then supportive (yes, the very one many of you abjure) and none at all approved of suffragette tactics. Nobody seems to ask whether their change of stance – which paper would now object to letting women vote? – means that there are subjects now where prevailing attitudes, such as hostility to asylum seekers, may come to seem hopelessly wrong. I should in fairness mention that the Times is more up front about its stance on votes for women than say the Telegraph, Mail or Express; I am impressed that Rupert Murdoch allows the Times to take stances he assuredly does not share. Journalists often do not share the views of their editors; my son tells me that Guardian writers struggle to find the prose suitable for Sun Readers, while Sun journalists find it easy to write Guardian articles. I suppose though this is more a matter of finding styles and language than of ideology.

  On On, FRB