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The written anthology of your trip to is coming to an end, but I am sure that the growth that you experienced will last forever. To infinity and beyond, right? 100th post, had to make it a good one ![]()
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Most men and women lead lives, at the worst so painful, at the best so monotonous, poor, and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves, if only for a few moments is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul. Aldous Huxley "The Doors of Perception" |
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Not stupid but ignorent. I rareley see brand name strains and if i do its massivley over priced. Not many people grow around here either. But to say the states as a whole has better bud then amsterdam is ignorence. If you grow then you control the quality of the bud so of course its not worth going for the bud for you. Same as if you get Medcal Marijuana.
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" Give a man morter and stone and have him build a wall. That wall means nothing, it only has a purpose and he would piss on it rather then engrave his name into the corner stone. Take that same man and let him put his heart and soul behind it. He would rather die then see you damage it.... let alone destroy it , for behind the wall is not his family, city, or country , It is his pride in his finished work."
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Thanks bro. Quote:
Thanks a lot for an excellent post. Quote:
Peace.
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". . . Love is no hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!" ~John Galsworthy - "The Forsyte Saga"~ |
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I woke up early that morning around six, packed my bags, and roasted a few more bowls. Though sleep was awake inside of me and weariness was evident on my face I continued sucking up as much smoke as I could. I'd bought a lot of weed while I was there and it was obvious I wasn't going to be taking it with me so I puffed away. The cost of trying to smuggle weed on a plane is far outside of my desire to risk. All it takes is getting caught once to fuck your life up, and in my way of thinking there aren't any buds on this planet worth that risk. I put the finishing touches on my room, took one final look around, and descended the steep spiral staircase.
The air outside had a bite to it but I'd become accustomed to that early into my trip. As I approached the intersection in front of Central Station I sat my bags down and looked around at Amsterdam coming to life again, what a trip it had been I thought. I took a photo and hopped a train to Schiphol Airport. [I watched the houses flow by me in a blur.] Had the journey ended or had it just begun? The answer was mine and mine alone. Still I Rise Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. ~Maya Angelou~ I went through the checkpoints with little problem until I got to the last one before I boarded my flight. All the passengers had to line up to have their passports checked which wasn't a fast process by any stretch of the imagination. Finally my time came to have my "documents" examined. My examiner was a short lady of what looked and sounded like Middle Eastern descent. I approached her area with smiles. She looked at my passport and asked me what my business was in Amsterdam, I blurted out with ease that I had attended the Cannabis Cup. She looked puzzled for a moment and questioned me further, "What is dis Canna-Boos Cup?" Her voice was firm in tone. I was thrown off for a second by her steely resolve. I reached in my pack and handed her the official program that was still glossy and smooth, "Here take a look its an event that takes place once a year in Amsterdam." I didn't want to take any chances with her she was playing everything by the book. She took the program in her hands, looked through it for a minute, walked away and conferred with an associate. I wasn't too worried until I remembered the seeds I had stored in my bag. After several minutes of talking to another screener she quickly walked back to me with another barrage of questions, but this time she wanted to know why I decided to change my return flight time. [Note: If you change your flight time be prepared to answer a lot of questions.] I stumbled over my words a little as her questioning was becoming more intense but through it I tried to remain cool. She examined my passport and then the Cup program several times, while pausing occasionally to observe my demeanor. By this time her associate had moved closer and was observing me himself. The best thing I could think of under the circumstances was to stay steady and focused. I switched my thoughts to how fulfilling the trip had been, the Coffeeshops, and the bustling streets of Amsterdam. "Why did you change your ticket," she repeated. "Because I love your City," I shot back without missing a beat. She walked away again and talked with the gentleman that had come closer to where we standing, after a few moments of talking with each other again they both walked back. He held in his hands the program, "So what's the Cannabis Cup," he asked. "It's a cannabis tourist event, meant to attract cannabis enthusiasts from all over the world," I answered. He continued to flip the program and quietly replied, "Nice." After a few minutes he walked away leaving me to be questioned further, which lasted another ten minutes. But since I hadn't broken out in cold sweat she must have figured my answers were accurate and eventually let me go. The passengers boarded the plane and I took my seat next to a German woman who had come home to attend a funeral for a friend. Her destination was America and her husband, like the Dutch fellow I had sat next to on my flight over she offered little in the way of conversation. Soon the plane readied itself for takeoff, I looked out of the window again as it speeded down the runway and into the air toward the distant shores of home.
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". . . Love is no hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!" ~John Galsworthy - "The Forsyte Saga"~ |
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Nice job keeping your cool around the checkpoint folk. Many people would lose it in such a high stress situation. What kind of seeds did you pick up? Some stellar genetics, I'm sure.
Congrats on a story well told AK, or do we have some reflection posts to come? Regardless, i've really enjoyed reading your Amsterdam Anthology, and I am sure that the rest of the city has as well.
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Most men and women lead lives, at the worst so painful, at the best so monotonous, poor, and limited that the urge to escape, the longing to transcend themselves, if only for a few moments is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul. Aldous Huxley "The Doors of Perception" |
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[11-27-2007, 3:00 PM To Infinity and Beyond - Epilogue]
I arrived at the airport ready to rest and to ruminate, luckily a lovely lady met me to take me home. I secured my bags in the trunk of my car and melted in the seat next to her. I was exhausted but I spent the remainder of the day running errands and settling in. That evening I broke out some of my tasty buds, lit up, and dreamed of future trips and pointed my mind toward future hopes. Thank you GrassCity for being part of my journey. [You are now exiting the Infinity Zone...] Stay green. ~Fin~
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". . . Love is no hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!" ~John Galsworthy - "The Forsyte Saga"~ Last edited by AK Infinity : 01-21-2008 at 06:08 PM. |
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Awesome man, I'm so glad you decided to keep a journal while you were there. I have a thing for keeping memories / records of special events I've been through so I can look back and remember the 'good times' and I'm glad you're the same way. You have excellent writing skills and your knowledge and experience of cannabis really made this a great thread. Thanks for sharing
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It's horrible to acutally realize that the thread is over, in the sense of the story telling. It was by far a kick ass read, and even with the long entries, I was not detured from reading the enitre entry. Wonderful job, and I'm glad that the trip itself was fulfilling, and not only the cup.
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PeAcE Damn Hippy ![]() "When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace." -Jimi Hendrix-
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Thanks again for your words, they mean a lot. Quote:
I was there about ten days which really isn't enough time to even get a taste IMHO. ![]() Quote:
Thanks, and it felt like it took forever to write too. | ||||