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bad layover
ok so my girlfriend and I are on our way to India to see my brother, and the flight is via Amsterdam Schipol for a two hour stopover.
ok so my girlfriend and I are on our way to India to see my brother, and the flight is via Amsterdam Schipol for a two hour stopover.
So what do we do, go to the airport shop and buy some Edam? of course not, Anne has never been to Amsterdam before so we hop on the train and aim for a mad dash to see the city.
two hours is not very long to get in and out of the city and see something of it, just in case anyone's thinking that might be a good idea sometime.
and for a first shroom attempt a VERY BAD idea. my plan was to try a small portion from a little shop i knew and settle back and enjoy the flight to india. complete novice however, i wasn't prepared for the speed of the very small amount i had (Anne not trying, instead opting for a little spliff in the wonderful coffee shop next to the grand hotel). i probably only had a gram of dried something or other. but within minutes of arriving at the coffee shop paranoia set in. we had a plane to catch. anne was chowing down on a healthy fat skunk prerolled preparation and i was beginning to notice how loud and unforthcoming the coffeeshop was, didn't they know we had a flight to catch - not just catch, but i mean, our bags were on it and everything and we were in the city fubared.
my watch was making no sense because i couldn't believe it and i knew i was really losing it. so i grabbed anne and we left in a hurry and my last coherent words were asking her not to leave me alone under any circumstances and to hail a cab. i was feeling really tiny and the cobbles were really huge. and the cab, a pale yellow merc, the cab terrified me but i knew we had to go, we had 10 minutes or something (i thought) to get back to the airport and through security and i knew something bad was happening.
and then i was convinced the cab driver was leering at me, turning around and waving his hands at me like a lecherous owner of a little souk shop in a bad part of the medina. and we did not seem to be moving at all.
and then suddenly i shrank back into myself entirely, and was just numb all over and knew i was passing out, and i was yelling i'm passing out i'm passing out, and i was thinking i was going to be laid out on an amsterdam street surrounded by a crowd of dutch people prodding me - and then suddenly it was cool. i thought, this is what it's like to die, you gradually lose all input from the world but your mind can float away free, and i felt a little better because it was lovely to have no input from my nerve endings but still be able to move and watch the beautiful world trade centre zip by all elongated and fast from the top of the cab and look down on my lovely girlfriend. and then i suddenly remembered i would have to go through security and the badness started again, no way would they let me through feeling like this. i must have voiced this though as both other cab occupants were telling me i looked fine and was talking normally even though i felt like i was still on the cab roof unconscious and floating and watching.
but... i don't remember how we even paid the cab or moved through security, but we made it to the gate with an astonishing half hour before the flight took off (looking back we'd basically got the fast train in and a cab pretty much straight back, although i felt we'd had at least an hour or two in the city). funny thing, we sat well outside the gate for that half hour, me still too scared to go through (there won't be any doctors on board! i'm going to pass out again!) and anne stoned to bejeesus. and they had to call our names out three times before one of us realised, holy fuck that's us... my name on the tannoy just sounded really funny and famous, i kept giggling at it, but i didn't connect it with me at all. last people on the plane, so we got on and we both just talked talked and talked and talked about being heavier than air and it wasn't right and the beauty of flight and waiting for that thrust and it was wonderful, the best takeoff ever. stoner and first-time shroomer, not good to have within a 12 seat radius on a cramped klm to delhi but hah!
so i didn't set myself up for a good first trip, but the recognition of death was awesome - and i put the paranoia bits down to the obvious "fucking up our holiday" situation. next time, nowhere to go in a hurry!
rock on and take care
j. wahey
So what do we do, go to the airport shop and buy some Edam? of course not, Anne has never been to Amsterdam before so we hop on the train and aim for a mad dash to see the city.
two hours is not very long to get in and out of the city and see something of it, just in case anyone's thinking that might be a good idea sometime.
and for a first shroom attempt a VERY BAD idea. my plan was to try a small portion from a little shop i knew and settle back and enjoy the flight to india. complete novice however, i wasn't prepared for the speed of the very small amount i had (Anne not trying, instead opting for a little spliff in the wonderful coffee shop next to the grand hotel). i probably only had a gram of dried something or other. but within minutes of arriving at the coffee shop paranoia set in. we had a plane to catch. anne was chowing down on a healthy fat skunk prerolled preparation and i was beginning to notice how loud and unforthcoming the coffeeshop was, didn't they know we had a flight to catch - not just catch, but i mean, our bags were on it and everything and we were in the city fubared.
my watch was making no sense because i couldn't believe it and i knew i was really losing it. so i grabbed anne and we left in a hurry and my last coherent words were asking her not to leave me alone under any circumstances and to hail a cab. i was feeling really tiny and the cobbles were really huge. and the cab, a pale yellow merc, the cab terrified me but i knew we had to go, we had 10 minutes or something (i thought) to get back to the airport and through security and i knew something bad was happening.
and then i was convinced the cab driver was leering at me, turning around and waving his hands at me like a lecherous owner of a little souk shop in a bad part of the medina. and we did not seem to be moving at all.
and then suddenly i shrank back into myself entirely, and was just numb all over and knew i was passing out, and i was yelling i'm passing out i'm passing out, and i was thinking i was going to be laid out on an amsterdam street surrounded by a crowd of dutch people prodding me - and then suddenly it was cool. i thought, this is what it's like to die, you gradually lose all input from the world but your mind can float away free, and i felt a little better because it was lovely to have no input from my nerve endings but still be able to move and watch the beautiful world trade centre zip by all elongated and fast from the top of the cab and look down on my lovely girlfriend. and then i suddenly remembered i would have to go through security and the badness started again, no way would they let me through feeling like this. i must have voiced this though as both other cab occupants were telling me i looked fine and was talking normally even though i felt like i was still on the cab roof unconscious and floating and watching.
but... i don't remember how we even paid the cab or moved through security, but we made it to the gate with an astonishing half hour before the flight took off (looking back we'd basically got the fast train in and a cab pretty much straight back, although i felt we'd had at least an hour or two in the city). funny thing, we sat well outside the gate for that half hour, me still too scared to go through (there won't be any doctors on board! i'm going to pass out again!) and anne stoned to bejeesus. and they had to call our names out three times before one of us realised, holy fuck that's us... my name on the tannoy just sounded really funny and famous, i kept giggling at it, but i didn't connect it with me at all. last people on the plane, so we got on and we both just talked talked and talked and talked about being heavier than air and it wasn't right and the beauty of flight and waiting for that thrust and it was wonderful, the best takeoff ever. stoner and first-time shroomer, not good to have within a 12 seat radius on a cramped klm to delhi but hah!
so i didn't set myself up for a good first trip, but the recognition of death was awesome - and i put the paranoia bits down to the obvious "fucking up our holiday" situation. next time, nowhere to go in a hurry!
rock on and take care
j. wahey
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