I didn't travel to Nimbin for the drugs. I was content to continue being an extraterrestrial observer of strange human customs in foreign countries and not break my non-interference directive, plus there's that arrogant part of me that likes to confound expectations by not following the crowd and doing the obvious things. Also, I don't know how to roll those funny cigarettes, it looks delicate.
But when I boarded the cramped, sweaty bus of day trippers heading from Byron to Nimbin on a cannabis cruise, an English guy started talking to me and it turned out we were the only ones who were actually staying overnight in Nimbin, and in the same place. His goal was to get as stoned as humanly possible, and it would have been impolite to just abandon him, right?
I didn't actually toke da reefer [this means "smoke any cannabis"], because smoking's pretty horrible, and the couple of times I might have tried it in university it did nothing for me. But when we wandered around Nimbin's single retail street and got harangued by dealers every five metres, I was intrigued by their mention of 'cookies.' Like when one of my flatmates made vodka jelly, the idea of eating myself stupid seemed quite funny.
It wasn't. I made the illegal exchange in the open air in this ridiculous town and later struggled to consume this disgusting biscuit while the mainstream conformists I was chatting to smoked their dooby. I was already tired, and after an hour I just felt more tired and a little sick. I retired to my tent by 9PM and remember having some mild paranoid thoughts as I drifted off, so at least I got some of my money's worth.
The next day I felt more awake and had several strong coffees, which gave me a real buzz. That's my kind of drug, and you don't have to timidly haggle with aggressive old ladies to enjoy it. Don't do drugs, kids! Because they're just rubbish. Except caffeine, which is brilliant.
When I arranged this trip, I was planning on enjoying Mother Nature in a less illegal sense
Nimbin 'High' Street (do you see what I've done?) has dedicated itself wholeheartedly to marijuana tourism. With the constant hassle from dealers it's like being back in Asia, except they don't bother to use code words like 'you want motorbike?', they just ask if you want to buy some drugs. And when you politely say 'no, thank you' they make snide comments.
Byron Bay people may have annoyed me, but Nimbin townies are just dicks
The Nimbin Museum abuses whatever arts funding it may receive to push its political messages. Can you tell which side of the fence they're on?
Nice try, museum, but I've seen stranger