The Closing Of The Hemp Hotel 2003

The Closing Of The Hemp Hotel (Not Quite !)

Its Sunday, is it really just a week ago I was in Amsterdam ? I went out on March 27th, Thursday morning. My flight was 8.05 am, an hours drive from my place. It meant I had to be up at 4.00 am to be in the airport around 6.30 am. The taxi ride to the airport was the best I've had since my Mam used to take me. I knew the driver & he didn't object to me blazing though two spliffs on the way, windows down mind.

The airport security experience proved to be less traumatic than I'd thought although I did feel all eyes on me at one point after metal detection check point. Then I found out the bloody plane was delayed until 10.25 am. It was just coming to 7.00 am. So I headed straight for the bar & threw down a double Glenmorangie. There was nowhere to sit, so I made camp outside Duty Free & tucked into the stirfry smoked chillie mackrel I had thought to cook & pack the night before. Having filled my belly I crashed out for a while.

When I woke up I found I was surrounded by a hippie encampment & my arse had gone numb. Worse it had spread. I was numb from the waist down. No feeling in my legs or feet at all. I nearly paniced but decided to just roll over and look stupid for a few minutes instead. When enough feeling returned to my legs to make an attempt at standing I noticed a vacant seat. I had to act fast or one of the hippies might snag it. Either I would get the chair & regain feeling gracefully or collapse in a most undignified heap on the floor. I made the chair.

Dozing in the chair a 'Final announcement for bording of' drifted across the speakers, thats my fucking plane. I snapped to & checked my watch. It was only 9.30 am. I flew down to the gate & got on the plane. To Hell with the times it seemed, plane was here, lets go.

When I reached Central Station I dropped off my bags in a locker. First thing on my mind was getting a smoke. I'd heard that De Kuil, Oudebrugsteeg 27, had something called the Knockout so decided to make that my first stop. Though I'd passed De Kuil many times I had never actually been in. Inside was bright, clean and the atmosphere was friendly, the juke sound wide & varied. So I checked the menu, no Knockout. So I chose some Shiva bio (E7 per 1g, 7.5/10 rating). I had a little chat with the guy I bought it from & sat at the bar with an apple juice skinning my gram.

Coffeeshop 222

After smoking it I headed across Damrak, past the big Grasshopper, into the heart of the Red Light District & emerged at the 222 Coffeeshop, Oudezijds Voorburgwal. The 222 specialises in Skuff, & its lovely. I scored some Northern Light bio bud (E10 per 1g, 7/10 rating) & some Northern Light Skuff (E25 per 1g, 8.7/10). 222 is a clubbers/ravers coffeeshop & the guy serving said they are very busy in the evenings particularly at weekends. From there I went to Cannabis College & then across the canal to Flying Dutchman for a cheap glass pipe. I got a plain pyrex straight though job for E9 & headed down to Greenhouse Centrum to see if I could find Zoe.

Greehouse Centrum, Friday afternoon, 28th March 2003.

Zoe was indeed to be found along with Lee Bridges, cannabis poet, & a number of other friends enjoying the sunshine outside Greenhouse Centrum. She was even sitting in the Mushroom Chair featured in Art Of Zoe. After catching up & a smoke we made plans to meet next day. I headed back to Central Station for my bags & over to check in at the Hemp Hotel. I was given a warm greeting on arrival.

I had arranged to meet Mo at 10.30 pm in the Grasshopper by Central Station. I'd met Mo a couple of years before at the Hemp Hotel & we had kept in touch ever since. Unknownst to me Mo's plane was delayed so when my watch said 11.00 pm, the sounds had become repugnant & I had woke myself up for the fifth time I made a guesss that something like that had happened & headed off to the Hemp Hotel & my bed. Somehow though I ended up in the Hemp Hotel Nite Bar until 3.00 am. For some reason they were playing a Beatles compo C.D.. Not Rock N' Roll listenable, sing-a-long when your pissed Beatles, but supermarket shopping commercial hippie crap Beatles. It was first night, I let it pass with "Sounds like the city centre Supermarkets back home."

Next morning I was down for breakfast washed, dressed & shaved for 11.00 am. I walked into the Bar & there was Mo sat at the bar working on an Orange bud rolly backy spliff waiting for me. We exchanged greetings & airport/digs news & frustrations. I'd picked up some Malana Crème Daba, NYC Diesel & some Bubblegum from Tweede Kamer the night before on the way to the Grasshopper & we smoked some of the Malana through my ceremonial clay bong over breakfast. Mila came in breifly & told us she was off to Frankfurt for the next couple of days which sort of put the block on my plans to visit the shop & have a chat with her about some things.

Kitting ourselves out with bicycles from the next straat we headed into town towards Haarlemmerstraat via a spaced mullberry bush route to Stix Coffeeshop at the top of Utrechstraat which for some reason saw us hit Thorbeckeplein first. Mo got a suprise eyeful along Single canal as he didn't realise it was also part of the Red Light District even though I'd took him down there last September. It was dark mind, & we were mashed, & I was very seriously tripping my face off, ........ & well I supose he's had a sleep since then too. He did however make the relevant notes for future reference.

Pink Floyd Coffeeshop, Harrlemmerstraat 44

Lashing the bikes to the railings at the end of Single Canal, near the pickled herring stall, we visited Piccasso & Pink Floyd. In Floyd I scored some Afghani (E5 per 1g, 6/10 rating) & some Afghani Prime (E12.50 per 1g, 8/10 rating). Mo scored some Umma Gumma Moroccan house special a former long time favourite of mine. He was very happy with the fine quality Moroccan. All that's available in Ireland is Soap Bar. In Piccasso we both scored some Turkish (E8 per 1g, 9/10) & Mo scored some Orange Bud fresh in that morning.

From there we went to meet Zoe at Greenhouse Centrum. She wasn't there so I took Mo over the canal to the 222 to show him where it was. Then we went back to Greenhouse Centrum to wait & see if Zoe turned up. We scored a couple of beers & set up camp in the sun by the canal. We checked through the cheap Afghani, the expensive Afghani, the NL skuff & checked the Turkish out twice all through my glass pipe.

Zoe & her bike

Just as we finished the beers & had decided to go find a bar that sold cider, Zoe appeared. So we went round the Senssi Museum Coffeeshop, the Cannabis Connaisseurs Club, Cannabis College & some other sites in town taking photos of her work. Just as we were done I walked into one of the Americans I'd met at last years Cannabis Cup. He to was in town for the final days of H.H. to & had in fact decided to come to town a little early when he heard I'd be there. So we made arrangements to meet in the Bluebird 5.30 pm to go get some food.

Eagle Bill

While we were talking Zoe got talking to a couple of guys shooting the breeze by the canal. It turned out one of them was Eagle Bil, vapouriser missionary, & he invited us to go into the Hash Museum to take a few vapouriser hits. The three of us didn't need asking twice & went about making the most of it. Bill took pains to make sure we got the right sort of hit, emptying the smoke filled chamber if unsatisfied & filling it again with proper heating this time. A couple of guys visiting the Museum joined in too & before long we had quite a little session going. After a couple of hits each of NL x Haze No.5 Bill asked us if we'd like to do some vapouriser shotguns. We exchanged glances, “Sure, why not.” said I.

During Mo's second shotgun, as he let go of the glass tube of the vapouriser the tube did not let go of him, disconnected itself & smashed on the floor. Bill nearly had a shit fit until he remembered he had spares. Mo gave him E10 anyway, which he took.

Bill head in hand.The moment the vapouriser got busted.

The three of us came out blitzed. Zoe went back to the Greenhouse to meet freinds while me & Mo wandered off to Concious Dreams on Warmoesstraat. On the way we called into Hunters Bar were Mo scored some Manali. At Concious Dreams I scored some of the stronger Mexican mushrooms & we settled in the chill out seats at the back of the shop looking out over the canal onto Damrak. Mo filled up the pipe with the Manali (E12 per 1g, 8.9/10 rating) he'd just scored & we both enjoyed taking hits in turn.

Knocking the shit out of the bowl by tapping the pipe across my hand before leaving, & the bloody thing shattered. It had lasted just 24 hours & had changed from clear to nearly black round the bowl & elbow. So I slung the bits into the ashtray & headed off to meet the American (John) at Bluebird. On the way I bought a new glass pipe, different style E11 from the Headshop on Damstraat. Mo wanted to go get a few hours sleep so left us at the Bluebird.

Me & John talked about Viper Tours for this years Cannabis Cup. We got to talking about seed companys at The Cup, breeding, seeds in general & seed importation with reguard to the American legal system. Though strictly illegal, it seems there are some folk who are willing to import seeds by the thousand into America where there is a demanding market for them. It seems some traders take seed orders & add their fee to that of the seeds, taking home the seeds in the original Seed Co.s packaging. Others buy what they can from the cheaper seed Co.s, take them home & repackage them adding a hefty commission to each pack of ten that they sell. We enjoyed a very good Thai meal & went our seperate ways only to meet again later in the Bar of H.H..

Waiting for Mo to turn up in the H.H. Bar I made steady progress with my stash. I knocked down a couple of ciders & then my attention was drawn in the direction of a loud American at the end of the bar who was extolling the virtues of Tequilla. Well I couldn't resist could I, “Hey Tequilla man, you ever tried Absinthe ?”. The Irish lads sitting next to me glanced across. They lived here and were regulars in the H.H. Nite Bar, & had drunk with me before. They just sort of looked at each other & kind of sat back from the bar a little bit. So from the bottle I brought with me two Absinthe's were poured. Mine went down rightious slick, American Jim was left with his eyes watering.

I did a couple of more bong hits & quickly filled Mo in on what had just happened as he had just arrived. We decided to take Jim into town with us. It was Jims first time in Amsterdam. So sitting on the bench outside H.H. we all took a shot out of Jims bottle of Tequilla before heading into town.

Now at this point I'd like to mention that I'd also swallowed about a third to a half of a dose of the Mexican mushrooms. I remember us walking/riding into town like three outlaws on two horses. The Englishman, The Irishman & The Man from Hicksville U.S.A.. I remember looking at the girls before settling in some outside chairs facing Nieuwe Market & drinking cider. That we got hastled by some old guy looking for a handout. That I made him on sight & stopped his game before he opened his mouth even though I was tripping good at the time. I remember there was a large group of girls from Liverpool sitting next to us. I remember going into the Rugby Bar in the Red Light District & drinking cider & Jameson. I remember Jim couldn't keep pace with the Jamesons & that me & Mo missed him out of a couple of rounds. He was busy though getting himself hustled by a man & woman team. Before he managed to talk himself into trouble & out of his wealth me & Mo took firm grip of him & led him outside.

I remember finding the bikes again, that Mo split off for his hotel & me & Jim ended up in several heaps along the canal on the way back to H.H. as a result of multiple failed atempts to give him a 'seater'. At one point I remember lying on my back laughing my head off with the bike on top of me. I was actually that late back to H.H. the bar had shut & daylight was advancing on the darkness. I never saw Jim again.

Next morning, feeling a little delicate, I had a leisurely breakfast at H.H. & was joined by Mo. We had a lazy morning & ended up in Siberie, Brouwersgracht, until it was time for Mo to head to the airport. After Mo left I went back to H.H. for a sleep as the night before had took its toll. That evening I continued to take things easy, even though it was the official Closing Party. But that was before Irish Rob started mixing his own cocktails. Shots were 2 for 1. Irish Rob's own specials were a special blend of of Bailys, dark rum & a coffee liquor. Had to try it didn't I. It was pretty good actually & got me going again in the party mood. That & the Hawiian Cosmic mushrooms I'd swallowed earlier. I'd also swallowed an ephedra capsule & that too was beginning to kick in, and that bloody Beatles C.D. was playing again.

Around midnight I made the excuse to go & score. I did actually score 2g of Shiva from Stix but I really went for a walk in the night & to escape the Beatles. Saturday night in Amsterdam, I had to go walk through the lights & sounds & people. The Party at H.H. was kind of low key & I reasoned it wouldn't get into full swing until after 1.30 am based on prior experience.

When I returned to H.H., somewhat weak in the legs & sweaty, it was ten to two. No time to waste. I could hear my Green Goddess calling, & that bloody Beatles C.D.. Cathys young man was already three in front of me, I was informed as I took my place at the bar. Lali, who had plainly had enough of running the whole show & had already mentally packed her bags & moved out to the new place, tried to close the bar a hour early because of the hour going forward. A howl of protest changed her mind & she relented another hour. So I set to killing a few bong hits, building up a nice spliff & knocking down shots of the Goddess. This seemed to make an impression on a fella sitting next to me from the Black Forrest who had taken all night to get to where I was rapidly racing to.

Irish Rob tries to copy the acrobat, under his instruction.

I clocked three in 45 minutes but didn't quite catch Cathys man (sorry, I can't remember his name even though I made a point of asking) before the bar shut, who by now had hit four. At that stage he decided to go out into the street & do some hand stands. It turned out he was actually an acrobat. We came back in & Lali was closing up. Thats it, Party over. I went up to bed & passed out.

Six hours or so later I was back at the bike shop around the corner from H.H.. The chain lock was giving me problems & I'd had enough. In my condition it was far too much like hard work to fuck about with this thing every time I locked & unlocked the bike. The guy in the shop said I'd have to swap bikes as well & so I ended up riding Mo's bike for the next couple of days. After swapping bikes I took advantage of the fine weather & went on a little bike riding exploration mission. After a wrong turn or two & discovering the straat changes names in the middle I found the object of my search.

Het Ballonnetje, Roeterstraat 12

Het Ballonnetje, Roeterstraat 12, is the only coffeeshop I saw on this whole straat. “Fuck You Bush” was spray painted on the wall close by. I dismounted & locked up, took a couple of shots from outside & stepped into the shop. A large airy well lit room was made crammped by a large central square wooden table. The weed bar was at the end of this, the drinks bar ran along the wall oposite the door. All was wooden & there was a balcony. I scored 1g of Santa Maria & took it upstairs to skin. I stayed a while until I realised breakfast was being served in H.H. & left after a fave old rave tune finished playing, 'Everybody's free to feel good'.

The Nite Bar Cieling, Through Santa Maria Ital Smoke.

I did feel good, but I also felt sad. Today was Mothers Day, the daffodils were in full flower & the tulips are showing in my garden, my Mams garden & I miss her. After breakfast I took some final shots of the H.H. Bar & made my way into town & the Cannabis College. I took some nice shots of the plants & it is at this point memory begins to fail. I know I dined in the Chineese place on Damstraat. I had a sweet & sour soup & crispy roasted duck with veg & rice washed down with sake. But I can't remember anything else about the day. Mind you I still have one roll of film still in the camera.

Cannabis College Garden

I remember drinking the Goddess while playing Chess in H.H. Bar that night, & I know I didn't go out, as I was still rather tired from my exertions the night before, & I had smoke. Anyway, just as I was thinking of having an early night Mila came into the bar fresh from Frankfurt. A research team of Germans had taken a randon sample of Mila's Ice-O-Later stash & discovered under analysis that per weight of the hash 52% of it was pure THC. Analysis of the hashishes active properties revealed in excess of 95% THC. The research team are to market a new drug called Drinobinol (spelling may well be wrong) which is to be perscribed in Germany by G.P.'s. It is possible that this drug could be perscribed here in the U.K. too. Mila opened her bag of stash to give me a pinch to try. About five other assorted pipes appeared at various angles around us as if by magic. A bit like something from a Tex Avery animation. Mila generously filled them all. It was damned good smoke I can tell you. It woke me right up & put life into me again. Viper rating 9.7/10.

On Monday I had a lot to do. There was shopping to do for things to take home. I started off after breakfast securing some Thai chillies from the oriental supply shop just down from Katsu, 1e Van Der Helststraat. Next stop was the photo shop to get my films developed.

From there I went into town to look for some glass pipes. I found some that I liked in the Baba supply shop. Though I've been coming to Amsterdam 13 years now I know little about its oldest profession. So, wishing to get information straight from the horses mouth as it were I decided to call in at the Prostitution Information Centre, Enge Kerksteeg 3, but it was shut. They had some nice T-shirts in the window though.

So I finished up at coffeeshop Amnesia, corner of Herengracht & Bergstraat, next straat down from Oude Lelie Straat & Grey Area. I scored 5g of THSeeds S.A.G.E. & bumped into a couple of friends of Zoe's. After a spell I went to pick up my photos & headed back to H.H. only to find it closed. So I went up to my room & rested a bit until hunger drove me to the chip shop that evening. I had a bottle of Absinthe to finish tonight & I wanted a lining on my stomach.

Now I'm not entirely sure what came over me on my return to the Bar. It may have been the Green Goddess, it might have been the Mexican mushrooms I finished off earlier. Maybe it was because my Mam was on my mind, maybe because this was going to be my last ever night sat at the Bar. Maybe because Lali had statrted taking the boards off the bar & had been talking about taking the bar top off to take to the new place & being closed Sunday. Maybe because Lali had told me to find a new home for my bongs & had been biting my head off most of the weekend.

My life had changed totally since I first sat at the bar August 28th 1998 & was served with my very first 9-Bar. I got them put on my local health food shops shelves after that. Now my spiritual home, the place where my dreams have touched reality, was about to be lost. I sat there fighting with my emotions while some aging hippie talked until he had the good sense to throw himself out, me locking the door after him. I was last in the bar, watching Lali count up & tidy up before throwing me out.

There was such a lot I wanted to say, or just tell someone at that moment. It would have been fatal though. If I'd really started talking I'd of ended up just crying my eyes out. Instead I manged to maintain a semi dignified stone silence. Just another hammered punter who'd allowed dreams & reality to merge a little to freely that night. Just another punter waking up to the cold facts that this was not his home, that these were not his family, that nothing stays the same, that the world is a cold & lonely place, & dreams & illusions are just that. I wished Lali pleasant dreams & went up the stairs of the Hemp Hotel to bed for the final time, biting on the bitter taste of reality until I lost conciousness.

Next morning, that bitter taste was still in my mouth. I was washed, shaved & dressed, bags packed & goodbyes said to my room by 10.15 am. Room 2 was the first room I stayed in, it seemed fitting that it would also be the last. I'd had about five hours sleep. I wanted to catch Mila first thing at the shop before all the vultures gathered to distract the process. I got there before her & had just finished wrapping up a Shiva Ital while I waited, when she arrived. It turned out though that the poster & ashtray I wanted she was actually sold out of.

"I'll get one in town.", I said.

"It'll cost you more.", Mila said.

"I'm glad you finished the bottle last night," said Mila, "but I think maybe you should give a bit of a rest for a while with your condition."

"Don't worry, I'm going to be abstaining from alcohol when I get back until my birthday.", (six months) I replied.

I'd already decided this before going to Amsterdam. I done a lot of drinking over the winter. Previous to coming to Amsterdam I'd been getting through a bottle of La Fee Absinthe a week for the last five weeks. It was time for a break alright.

I went back to H.H. for my last breakfast & the last use of my bongs. Where in Amsterdam was I going to find a home for them ? It looked like I wouldn't, & I contemplated finding somewhere memorable I could drop them into the canal. Anasha was serving breakfast this morning & when I told her what I was thinking she volunteered to keep the cereminial bong for me untill I came back to use it. Thank You Nash.

I took the bike back & headed into town for the last of my shopping after breakfast. This time the Prostitution Information Centre was open so I grabbed a handful of information leaflets & books to read later. I went back to Baba supplys & got an astray for the person looking after my cat. Mila was right I found one, but it was more expensive. Then I went back to H.H. to finish smoking my stash & soak up as much of the place as I could this final time. I said my goodbyes straight enough, no waver in my voice, & left for the airport.

I had no trouble getting through customs & was in fact rather pissed off at the thought that if I could have brought through a whole bar of hash, unmolested, if only I had dared. I consoled myself with the thought I'd swallowed 2g of Afghani & a space cookie John gave me from Sagamatha Seeds with a couple of beers, all of which seemed to be working very well at killing any pain I felt. My cat was pleased to see me when I got home.

Viper 7/4/2003.

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Lounge

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First Published 5/1/2004 by Viperslair.co.uk/Viper Unlimited Productions

Re-published with modifications 20/1/2004

Re-published 1/1/2006

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