Nimbin narcosis

Got a group of us together - 3 blokes and 2 birds from Ilford, plus me, Bec and Tim, a top geezer who works at the hostel. One of the blokes from Ilford used to work at Folkestone market. We all piled up to Nimbin, home of Oz's hippie remnants, still living out the 70s ideals, and smoking lots of ganja. Now don't get me wrong, I believe in legalisation - why criminalise and entire section of the population doing nothing more than enjoying a substance less harmful than the two most socially acceptable and (in the long term) most lethal drugs known, alcohol and tobacco? Smoke it, fine, just don't make it the centre of your entire existence, as sems to be the case in Nimbin. New-age mysticism and pop philosophy were the order of the day, especially at the Hemp Museum. The Hemp Embassy was interesting, though. I found out, for example, it takes 4.1 acres of wood pulp to make the same amount of paper as derived from 1 acre of hemp fibre, and hemp cultivation does far less damage to the soil.

From Nimbim we travelled off in convoy to find the Natural Bridge, which turned out to be a waterfall through a hole in a rock, in which you could swim. This is honestly more interesting than it sounds. I didn't partake (bit cold - trying to avoid shrinkage). Tim and a girl called Sarah did, though. We'd picked up Sarah and Amanda in Nimbim (mates of the Ilford geezers, from Fraser), who turned out to be from Tavistock in Devon, where my family are all from.

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