Laos....on a motorbike circa 2001....old Overgrow post..

A very welcome Spliff, Shave and Shower!!

Vang Vieng is a small town 160k.m. North of the Laos capital Vientiane. It lays 230k.m. from Luang Prabang where we had made out from that morning. The town is situated on a bend of the Nam Song river and has a population of around 26,000. During the Indo-Chinese war the Americans built an airstrip here called 'Lima Site 6', and as we crossed the now un-used pitted and pockmarked runway I wondered what sort of military operations were carried out from here back then? (Probably 'Black Op's').

All three of us were very keen to finish the journey, and so I aimed the bike towards the nearest decent hotel that I could find. Down a very rocky, pebble strewn track we found the Nam Song Hotel just in time to see the glorious sunset over the hills and mountains on the opposite West bank of the river. What amazing colours came forth as that baking ball of heat and light dipped slowly behind the darkening, lush green foliage of the hills. Yellow went to orange and then to red within minutes and with the mists and low clouds that surrounded it the sun finally departed for the day and all was dark.

The Stoners from Israel.....

20 minutes and I was all checked in, shaved, showered and stoned, feeling a little fresher after washing the grime from my eyes. Feeling a little higher after a fat Laos sativa spliff. Hunger was knocking on the door of my stomach once again with the accompanying symphony of gurgling and draining noises. It was time to go eat, and have a look around at what this Aussie fella Keiren had called a 'Stoners Mecca'. It sure looked busy with much use of electric light, illuminating the guesthouses, hotels, restaurants, internet cafes', travel agents, grocery stores and noodle stands e.t.c. Marky noted that in this place we had seen a bigger grouping of Westerners/Foreigners than in any other place that we had visited so far. Here in Vang Vieng I heard being spoken the language of the Dutch, the French, Japanese, Hebrew and English that night. We settled at a low table in a busy restaurant with what looked like a good menu and after consuming a large fried curry with sticky rice, washed down with the Bier Lao, I ventured to the back of the little guest house/restaurant to look for the 'Hong Naam' (toilet).

In the back were these two hippied out looking Israeli’s having a go at playing table tennis.
'Have you guys come across any good herb in Vang Vieng yet?' I said to break the ice. 'Sure', came the response. Then I showed them the fast diminishing piece of the Tibliza hash that I had left and the tall, longhaired blond Israeli guy offered to help me burn some in his Chillum, back at their guesthouse.

Near the Golden Triangle.....

We paid the bill and went for a look around town, we had a contact for getting weed at this guest house that Kieren had stayed at, but after going there, we did not like to ask since the lobby was filled with older Laos guys looking official, so we split.
As we returned to our hotel we were beckoned from the balcony of another guesthouse by the Israeli’s that we had met earlier, they invited us up and we parked up the bikes, took off our shoes and made our way to the balcony where a serious toking session was well underway.

There was some Charas from the Parvati Valley in India, the Tibliza Moroccan hash that I had brought, some sticky Laos sativa and a small ball of black tacky Opium. It was decided that the Israeli guy would prepare a cocktail of all of these, in the chillum for us to share.
Swinging gently in a hammock was an English guy called John, as he got up I looked him straight in the eyes and I could see that the pupils were so dilated that they resembled pin-pricks. Sure his eyes were pinned, the telltale sign of an opiate user.

17 years before I had spent 6 months on the Thai-Burmese border smoking Opium.
After my experience I had sworn to myself that I would only use it in a medicinal capacity, if I ever used it again. I reflected on those times when staying with the White Karen, and then the Red Karen people besides the Ma Ping River near to Mae Hon Song. It will be forever a hazy dream time of my life when I became an opium addict, smoking 10 to 20 pipes of raw unprocessed opium every day, high up in the house of 'The Professor', an ex-Shan army opium dealer. Eventually I knew that I had to end it all, and so I returned to Bangkok for 4 days 'cold turkey'. The worst 4 days of my life. I had played and I had paid for my excesses back then and had not touched the stuff, or any of its derivatives since.

Tired.....and VERY stoned....

The long journey that day had put many stresses on my body. I was tired and my back problem seemed not to be dulled by the weed or hash at this time. I was in pain as usual.
There was this Japanese guy sitting right next to me who had a mini-disc player with speakers which was pumping out this metal machine music which might have sounded good if you were all 'E'ed Up' at some rave, but here, and at such volume this 'music' was to my ears abrasive, and so I turned the volume down. This he must have taken offence to, since he did not look too happy about it and so I tried to explain that right now the music did not fit.

'I don spek Ringrish!' he said as the Chillum was passed to me. I took a huge lug on the spicy, narcotic smoking mixture and let it sit in my lungs for a while, then exhaled without coughing.
Then I took another pull and did the same, this time keeping it in even longer, letting the intoxicating vapours and smoke out of my nose in a slow fog. Ahhh!, yes. My mind wandered off again to the manic and very physical events of the day, trying to remember and quantify ever episode in a mix of memory.
I passed the Chillum to the Japanese guy and said. 'I don't speak Japanese!', and everyone roared with laughter, stoned as we were.

Off to see the Cannabis Sativa Alive and Well in Laos!!


The next day was what I consider as being the very best day of this brief expedition to Laos......Oh! what fun we had!!.......What wonders were there to discover!!


Marky was up and at breakfast the next morning about the same time as me and he told me over 'Coffee Lao' that the manager in the guesthouse last night had offered to show us some cannabis sativa actually growing here in Laos!! This was news to my ears, the events of the night before being so hazy, naturally. Anyway I was up for it, so we went to see if Thon was coming along too, he just wanted to sleep really late, so we left him to it.

First we had a good smoke-up with an opiated spliff, making sure to eradicate any trace from my room (it had a good flushing toilet). So at 9.30.a.m. we went, the two of us on the two bikes, back to the guesthouse that we were at the night before. None of the foreigners were around, but 'Pepsi' (as was his nickname) was, and within a couple of minutes he was on the back of Marky's Yamaha and we went screaming off onto the road towards Kasi, going back the way we had come the day before. I was curious as to how far we needed to go to see these plants growing, so I pulled up along side of the pair of them and asked. Pepsi said that it was about an hours ride, or about 60k.m. to our destination. It was once again such a pleasure to ride thru that countryside with quite a few twists and turns, and plenty of straight parts where I could open up the throttle some and savour the warm air as it wafted past me in an accelerating stream. The sky was so bright that you could not look at it with your eyes unshaded.

The mid-morning tropical sun beat down on the hot black road, making it possible to really stick to the corners as I went round and round and up and down all over again, and I loved every glorious moment of it this time, without the hazard of the torrential rain.

*Photo is of me handing over some Dutch Passion Voodoo....and K.C.Brains Haze Special to a grower in Laos....


Genetics from Western Breeders go East!!

Just when I started to get saddle sore, it seemed like our goal was in sight, for Pepsi was tapping Marky on the shoulder to stop. I slowed and followed them just off the road to a little grocery shop next to a big house. We sat and bought a couple of Beir Lao's for needed refreshment, then Pepsi dissapeared to get hold of the grower. Marky and I sat and drank wondering what would happen next? Was the grow around here? If so, was it close by?
Our questions were answered upon the return of Pepsi and another fella who was identified as the grower. Now this guy did not know me from Adam, but in a way he was the guy that I had smuggled cannabis seeds into Thailand and then Laos for, and in a 'Oh Brother, where art thou' movie soundtrack C.D. case!

From the fridges of Seedboutique I had brought a 10 pack of Dutch Passion 'Voodoo' seeds, another pack of 10 Dutch Passion 'Twilight' seeds, and a pack of K.C.Brains 'Haze Special', all in their original breeders packs. The eyes of the grower bulged as he took in the fact that I was bringing good cannabis seeds to Laos, just for him to grow, and without charge. It took quite a bit of explaining, and luckily enough I had remembered to bring my laptop computer to be able to show him the situation with cannabis cultivation worldwide. This Lao grower could not get enough of the pictures that I showed him! He found it very hard to comprehend that they actually had competitions for the best marijuana in Holland, I showed him some of the shots taken at last years Cannabis Cup in Amsterdam.

Amazed, and very gratefull he shook my hand in return for the gift. Now I wanted to see what he had growing, so we hopped back onto the bikes and roared off for another 25
kilometers or so, pulling off the road onto a red track, which led us into a very rural place.

The Blind Man that owned the field.....

We were on the outskirts of Kasi, somewhere in a farming community, and we pulled up to a house raised high off the ground like most of them were in this area due to constant flooding at certain times of the year. There was a blind man sitting outside with a group of women and kids all around him, this was the person that the land actually belonged to where the weed was growing. Introductions were made, and then I made an explanation of who I was and what I was doing here clear to him. The seed-packs came out and he felt the seeds in his hands, commenting on the size of them and asking what colour they were. After a little while he got up and was led by the grower down the road and we were asked to follow.

People stopped and stared at me, curious about this big foreigner in their community. We passed many cows, water buffalo, pigs, chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys and kids coming from, or going to school we went by, careful not to step into any of their rural offerings to the earth. The distance from the house was not far, but it was bloody hot off the bikes and walking, so I was sweated up within minutes. Flocks of children passed by, flying along downhill with bright umbrellas above their heads on old bicycles.

Good Grief Mr Watson.....is that Marijuana!!??

By the time we arrived at the little plantation I was keen to duck into the shade of the awning/shelter that had been erected by the well in the centre of the field. All around us sat plants just one month from seed, but still reaching some 3-4 feet from the ground!

Most all of the cannabis plants looked very healthy and I employed myself with the fun task of photographing as many as possible. All around the base of the plants was what looked like rice, and sure enough, I had it confirmed that it was not just ordinary rice, but the 'sticky rice' which was enriched with coconut milk. This method of feeding the plants must have been used for quite some time, these guys had no knowledge of hydroponics or the soil mixes that we use in the west. I asked about the watering schedule and was told that they water their plants from the well every day, (unless it rains). The plants looked fine to me with the serrated edged, thin pointed looking leaf typical of a sativa. None of them were in flower because I checked meticulously looking for the telltale signs of sexual maturity (balls on the males and white squirts of flowers on the females).

Man it was so hot that I thought that the camera, or myself could 'Pack up and quit', at any moment!! The well in the field was a welcome relief as I pulled the bucket up from the murky depths and doused my head and body liberally with it's water. There were some great shots to be had with the tropical foliage of banana trees and other tropical plants as a backdrop. My camera clicked and whirred at the newfound subject matter. Oh Yeah! I was in my element
once again taking beautiful photos of my most favourite plant in a completely tropical setting this time!!

First we stopped at a little cafe'/restaurant/grocery store and ate some beef, rice and vegetables, plus the obligatory Bier Lao. Pepsi seemed like he was drunk already since he was far more interested in drinking the beer than eating anything. Both Marky and myself wanted to see some bud and this was brought to us to be rolled at the table. The long, tight sativa buds were displayed out of a crumpled piece of paper with Lao writing all over it.

Found the sacred plant ALIVE in Laos!!

Time stood still for a while as I fulfilled my mission, this was just perfect for me, and I was so happy to be here that I was not too keen on leaving, but did all the same as the others were keen to get on. Pepsi had promised Marky an opium experience never to be forgotten, so this is where we headed for next. .....

Some more field shots!!

Here we have a close shot of the Lao sativa growing in the small plantation...

It would have been heaven if I would have caught the plants in flower....they looked healthy enough though in Veg....so I made the most of it.....and rejoiced in their company!!

Using 'Sticky Rice'....as a fertilizer/substrate!!
Yeah.....these plants grow in Rice......their staple diet much like the people around these parts!!

Not a huge Plantation....

It was well concealed from the road with many trees around.....Banannas and Papaya's......around 200 plants stood....mostly in the blazing light of the scorcing sun...

What was revealed looked good to me, and I went about crumbling up the buds, which had only a very few seeds in

them. No one seemed to mind that we were smoking weed at all, so I fired up the spliff and we sat there slowly smoking the Lao grass. Pepsi told us that there were 3 grades of weed available, number one, two and three. I wondered how they judged which was better than another, and was very surprised that Number One would be the freshest from Harvest and Number two and three were the flowers from older harvested plants.

Nicely fed....watered and stoned!!

So in reality they judged the potency and price of the weed the same way that you would buy and judge most vegetables and flowers, the fresher the better in their mind. Obviously they did not have the knowledge of drying and curing that we have in the west.

The high from this Laos number 2 grass was certainly 'Up' and clear. We were both keen to find out what the kilo price was, and even to get hold of a kilo, just for a good smoke up and a photo-shoot! Pepsi said that we could have a kilo for '1000Thai Baht ,(about $20 u.s.d.!!). He would have to go up the mountain on one of these dodgy looking agricultural transports and return the next day with it, if it was to be done, and for this he would need 15,000 kip gas money!! ($1.50) Of all the cheek!!

Difficult Territory....
*This story get's to a difficult point here....

1st off....I don't want to alarm anybody with a report on an opium experience......I have the words and pictures gathered from my recent expedition into these tropical ineibriates.....Cannabis I have covered mostly in Laos already...(Thailand comes later!!)........I am at odds whether to report on Opium....

....This being a website purely aimed at cannabis and it's growth, use, history, living or otherwise......I find it hard to divulge the experiences I encountered with the Opium medicine/ineibriate.....for they may be construed as being pro-opiate by some..........and perhaps anti-opiate by others......

Opium rediscovered.....

The meal was finished and paid for, back on the bikes we got to go find this opium experience.
Not so far from the place that we ate Pepsi indicated again for Marky and myself to pull into the drive of another house on stilts. We dismounted and climbed up the steep wooden stairway and into a house full of women and children, many of them curious to see what these strangers were doing in their home. Big eyes stared at me from around corners and when I made eye contact they quickly retreated with a shrill scream or a giggle.

Following Pepsi up another flight of steps we came to a large, very sparsely furnished room with a very old looking man in it. He greeted us with a smile and a handshake and I looked around at some of the photo's that hung from a supporting beam. There was the old guy in a Lao army uniform looking much younger and in the full get-up of an officer. He was the person who would help us all to smoke his opium.

*Photo is of a gramm wrap of Opium.....

Long mats were unrolled for us to lie at ease with firm pillows for our heads to rest on as we smoked. Marky went first and lay down opposite the old guy who was lying down besides him with an old metal plate, an oil lamp and an opium pipe in a space between them. He first cooked the black sticky mass in a spoon until it boiled for a while, and then he took a small amount from it and worked a wad or plug of opium onto a long thin metal rod.

Once on the metal rod, he turned it over the lamp, slowly building up the temperature of the opium before positioning it in the small opening of the opium pipe. He then made a hole in the centre of the opium, allowing the smoker to pull thru the pipe. As this was done the pipe was brought close to the lamp and the opium started to bubble, then smoke. The smoke was drawn as the old guy worked around the small plug of opium in the aperture of the pipe with the thin metal rod, trying to keep the hole open where the plug met the pipe, and the flow of smoke from the burning opium running.

As the pipe was smoked he pushed more opium from around the hole in the pipe into the hole, working it expertly with the metal rod, and just heating it enough with the lamp to burn it completely. I remembered the process well as it was rein acted for me. My mind went back to those crazy, hazy months that I spent doing this every day all of those many years ago with 'The Professor' in Northern Thailand.

Familiar.....Peculiar?

Marky took around 6 pipes and then it was my turn. Taking my place horizontally next to the very thin, frail looking body of the old man I took up the opium pipe once again. Yes it had been 17 years since last I was in this position, and I was curious as to see if this opium was as potent, and affected me as much as it had done back in the old days.

The first pipe was consumed with consummate grace and even though the only words of English that the old man spoke was a firm 'O.K.!' when the opium plug was ready to be pulled on. He soon realised that this command was not needed for he could tell that I had done this before, and I saw a look of mild surprise at my familiarity with the opium pipe in his eyes.

Sounds Amplify and Echo.......


I smoked easily, with just enough force to keep the narcotic smoke moving in the correct, desired direction. One pipe led to two pipes led to three pipes and more. The sounds of the house became clearer to me. I could hear the kids downstairs mucking about and shouting at each other in Lao. Their Mother was obviously trying to keep them quite around the excitement of having these men form other worlds in their midst. After the 5th pipe (I think it was?), I gazed to the top of the stairs to see these deep brown eyes just peering out at me. One of the girls from downstairs had let curiosity get the better of her and our gazes locked for a moment. I wondered what she was thinking about what she was looking at? Would she judge me as being bad or good for lying here at the top of her house smoking several pipes of opium? Who could judge me for doing this?

Sure if we were discovered by some cops or officials doing this, then we would be deemed as criminals. But in those eyes, the eyes of a child, would this look wrong? Should I feel guilty? What if that was my daughter looking at me now?

In deep thought.....

Thought overcame me as the old man, on auto-pilot, moulded another small wadge of the tacky blackness to the metal rod, worked it over the flame, then pushed it into the pipe-hole, making sure to open a bubbling hole in the opium, diligently working the sweet smelling, slowly burning opium as the little whisp of smoke disappeared into the long thin bamboo pipe as I sucked slowly, my consciousness drifting into other realms.

Opium has been produced, grown and consumed by these people for hundreds or even thousands of years. To them it had always been a part of their living and lives.
If I remember my history. Around a hundred and fifty years ago there was an opium war.
The British at one point supplied the Chinese with most of their opium. Trading in opium was and perhaps still is one of the most profitable businesses to be in. But of course the stuff is as addictive as cigarettes, a strong physical dependency on the drug can be had with just 3 or 4 days of medium to heavy use. Yes, opium makes opium addicts and I knew that personally, from personal experience.

You Play.....You Pay!!

Fear of becoming dependant once again was not within me. This to me was just a nostalgic thing, a mere trip down memory lane, for I knew that with just six pipes of opium, I would not become an addict. Knowing what an addict is about kept me well away from having any notions whatsoever of repeating the ballet with the dancing cobra's who's venom was desired by many, until it turned to a poison of which few have the antidote in their own minds to prevent death.

I quizzed Marky over his reaction to the opium, and he seemed unimpressed at this time.
My own feelings were that I could recognize a slight effect from the 6 pipes that I had just recently consumed. A faint tingling, itching at the base of the neck was felt, and the tendency not to speak much, if at all.

For me this was enough, I did not want to spend the whole day here doing this. Far more interesting would be to see if we could get hold of a kilo of Lao bud for a photo-shoot and smoke up. Marky said that he much preferred the effects of good Marijuana over the opium, and I was in total agreement. The opium helped to totally knock out any pain in my lower spine, so I literally jumped up off the floor (this I would later suffer for) to ask the old guy what he wanted for the opium we had smoked? Pepsi suddenly came to life and interacted (like a good hustler), as soon as he had picked up on the 'how much' bit.

Did not want to hang there forever....

Pepsi interrupted the old fella in mid sentence saying that it would be $2 per pipe, and 12 pipes had been consumed, making $24. I knew that that price was totally outrageous for around these parts somehow in the way that he was acting, kind of nervous.
There was an uncomfortable silence. I produced a $20 note and handed it to the old guy. He took it, looked at it and smiled. Then I said 'Keep the change mate!', and split towards downstairs and the bikes, making sure that I had all my stuff with me, stoned as I was. Saved $4, and a little face, not to be taken as such an easy touch. As I came to the bottom of the stairs the kids scattered laughing hysterically as they cleared out of our way.

The two Lao guys came with us, Pepsi and the grower, the grower on the back of my bike and Pepsi with my Vietnamese buddy. We headed back to the main road and the house of the grower to drop them off. Marky had arranged to meet Pepsi with the k.g. of Lao herb at 9.30 a.m. the next morning. He did not ask for any money up front, but did ask for some beer money, which I was not keen on parting with, seemed to me like the guy was a complete lush and just got drunker and drunker, taking more liberties as he went. I would be very surprised if he came thru with it the next day, yeah, very surprised.

*Pic is of the most common form of agricultural transport.....a multi-purpose bus/tractor/chopper!!

Wild Abandon!!

Wow! were we ever high or what! Still there was 60 k.m. of road ahead of us. Thankfully it never rained and the air was warm, fresh, but disturbed as we ploughed on thru it hurtling along thru space and time, Laos flashing by in a perpetual blur of mountain, country, lush vegetation, animals and people. I stood up on the footrests again at 100 k.p.h. and shouted with all the power of voice that I could muster.

'I'm Gypsy Nirvana, and I am a free man!'....

No one could hear and it did not matter, I felt reborn, overcome with emotion, confirming my status in life to myself. This was the stuff of memories and I marked the spot, there on Route 13, outside of Kasi, on the way back to Vang Vieng......

....Yeah!....my life at that point seemed very special to me.....and I wished for everyone on the face of the earth to share in this feeling of such wild abandon!!

*Pic is of Hmong boy with a catapult round his head!!

Do I get to purchase a kilo?...or what?

Early the next morning I awoke, just as the sun started to come up and went out to the restaurant deck to have a little breakfast. The scenery was absolutely astounding, and I gazed in a daze at the way the early morning mist hung low amongst the green mountains, and sort of swirled and curled around them, taking it all in, watching the narrow long tailed boats ferry people over to the far west bank where these amazing caves were, so I had been told, but we never saw them.

Marky came out and it was decided that we would all split for Vientiane that very day. The two Vietnamese guys had to leave for Hanoi on the bus the following day from the capital.

As 9.30a.m. came around, I asked Marky if he was up to going to see if this Pepsi guy came thru with the goods or not. What the hell, and why not? For taking a look we had nothing to loose, maybe I could get some good photos of a quantity of dried Laos sativa after all? If the cops showed up at an inopportune moment, then I would just tell them that I was a cannabis journalist, and see how they coped with that!.......Sometimes you just have to wing it!!

The Cop's are coming!!!....I'm out of there!!

Temptation and curiosity got the better of us that morning, we just had to go and see if the kilo had arrived, could not contemplate missing such a great opportunity to smoke up and photograph some decent Lao bud. So we once again took off on the bikes. Ther was no need to give them any choke in this weather for it was blistering hot. I hammered the bike in 2nd gear up the steep pebble strewn path from the hotel to the road, not giving the bike any chance at slipping, just powered her right up into the red. Letting the torque take care of any slip-sliding away that could have happened at a lower speed. First we did a cruise by of the guesthouse, standing up in the saddle to look over the wall. There was not a sign of life there to be seen or heard, and just to make sure, Marky pulled into the driveway and parked where he had done the night before and I followed with a little trepidation to say the least.

Not a trace of this Pepsi dude did we see, nor the old lady, it was just dead quite and empty looking, almost spooky, as if all were sleeping. Caution eventually served its purpose and we did not go into the guesthouse, just waited for a few minutes honking the horn occasionally. Not a peep......nada!

Enough time had been spent on this jaunt and I kind of confirmed my suspicions that this Pepsi guy was not on the level, maybe he had been picked up by the coppers?. Perhaps he was lying in a ditch, drunk as the proverbial skunk on Bier Lao, or Whisky Lao? I had no idea, but my senses told me that it was time for us to leave, which we did in haste since it seemed like they were having some sort of Police convention that day in the town. The banks were closed and there were all of these coppers and flashy motors like a rash all over the place. Most of them were in formal attire (Suited and booted), this always gets me moving!

With wet washing in my back pack(because I had no time for it to dry), nicely baked, and a full tank of gas we left Vang Vieng behind us in a plume of red dust as we hit Route 13 at speed for the 3-4 hour ride back to the capital, Vientiane.


Out of there!

Yeah.....as soon as the hackles stand up on the back of your neck....You either have to stand and fight or retreat to fight another day.... in my case, at that point there was not a need or want to fight at all....since I was quite content to be leaving Vang Vieng at an accelerating speed completely stoned happy!!...

The further we got away from the place the more we relaxed, pulling over to stretch our hammered bodies out and spark up a spliff or two. After an hour and a quarter or so we pulled over for some Vita-Milk and this RedBull type vitamin tonic called M-150 which is full of caffiene, taurene and various other defoilants (well maybe?)....all the better to keep us alert in the saddle.

Was a terrific joy to ride once again in good weather. Our speed, and the air rushing past us kept us from overheating. But the sun can very easily have it's wicked way with you regardless because it will burn any long-exposed skin to a frazzle in a couple of hours. (The backs of my hands are peeling now from sunburn, as I write this). My hat was kept firmly on my head for most all of the time so saving me from any heat stroke and you just had to have something to wear with long sleeves unless you wanted to become the barbeque on a motorbike!!

The closer we got to the capital, the busier the roads became. Back in the mountains we had encountered little if any vehicular traffic, now things were picking up with many more pick-ups, buses, motor-scooters, mopeds, cars and DIRTY GREAT TRUCKS!!

Nice read Gypsy. It make one feel as if he were there! I had to laugh when I read you ordered fish from a restaurant in the mountains...

Nice read indeed. That takes me back to 2001 when I was living in Nong Khai and would be on a Visa run to Laos every month.
I agree you can't be much more free than on a 250cc driving through breath taking scenery with some good weed and no fear of getting arrested.
Have you ever been back and seen if the farmer has grown any of your beans?

...No motaloca...I did'nt go back that way for a fews years after that time, and when I did I could'nt find anyone that I had met on this trip...

My roomate got back from laos/thai couple days ago, he said they got some real massagie kind over there. Mmm.. pho with cannabis branch toasty!

Tagged

Fuckin great read Gypsy. One of these days ill make it through customs and back out of this damn country.

Damn fine story, I like the way you tell it. Ever thought of writing a book?

second that!
as a westerner i can tell you though, i've had enough of africa and asia (Bali and Sumatra being the only places i'd go back to, but faaaaar away from any tourist attraction and into the wilderness to meet old friends). I do, however, enjoy greatly reading of your adventures

gypsy you just made me want to vacation in laos so bad....
i need to travel.....how much did that trip set you back? im assuming the most expensive part was the plane tickets...
your a marvelous story teller by the way!
you need to write more stories of your travels....

I remember the read from OG. Really cool post thanks gypsy. I wonder how much things have changed.

Also on another note. I'd like to acknowledge gypsy as not being too jaded and still being able to enjoy herb. So many tokers today especially some growers won't smoke anything other than perfectly cured AAA buds. They completely miss out and underestimate the experiences those foreign buds can give you. Some can be early, or just shitty, no doubt. But some can give you a great stone.

It's nice to see a fellow who can have a lump of hash but still appreciate a joint of some foreign weed.

Bro, Gypsy all I have to say is that your haze19xskunk haze pheno I got about 7 years ago from you was one of the best soaring sativas I've ever had. Thank you for spreading this plant and this website.

Wow GN

Outstanding! Thanks for sharing. I wish I could go on 'holiday' like that.

NLR