I could type a book about this place all by itself. I don't even know where to start describing the things I saw in this town. I actually laugh every time I think about how this place even exists. I honestly think the best and shortest way to describe Nimbin is the picture of the sign I used as the heading for this journal story, “All pot dealing outside Pleeze.” This my friends was not a joke.
Nimbin is a little mountain town about 70 miles from any other major established “normal” city, which is good for Nimbin because these people need separation. The town is more or less completely composed of hippies that decided that the 70's were perfectly fine and instead of moving on they would instead just isolate themselves from the normal population and continue on quid pro quo. Take a look at the pictures to get a feel for this place, but the ENTIRE town revolves around marijuana and it is NOOO secret. The museum was probably my favorite part of town. The entire thing looked like an overzealous interior decorator from Applebee's was given LSD and told to go to “fill ‘er up.” They had 10 of EVERYTHING in this museum and everything was painted with tie dye and pot leaves. Everything was covered in poems and graffiti and story stories about “times they were high.” It was Eric Cartman's worst nightmare (+2 points if you got that joke). The only thing that was better than this was the BLATENT use and sale of marijuana in the museum and in the “mingle garden” behind it. I probably got asked to buy pot 5 times while I was in that museum, and on estimate I saw about 10 drug deals go down. Right out in plain sight in front of everyone. I even saw the guy running the museum coffee cafe rolling a joint on the counter where he made the coffee.
The rest of the town followed suit perfectly. Out of every shop you could smell people smoking pot and playing bongo drums and whatever else hippies do when they're stoned. All the shops in town sold Hemp EVERYTHING: rope, oil, medicine, shirts, pants, hat, BRICKS, flour for baking, ect ect ect. They had about 5 “herbal” medicine shops that sold bottles of who knows what to treat everything from cancer to diabetes. The only two places not overrun by hippies was the police department and a real live actual pharmacy. Speaking of such, I wish I would have talked to the pharmacist there and asked him what in the world he was thinking when he decided to build a pharmacy HERE OF ALL PLACES!!
BTW....because I know everyone is gonna ask..NO we didn’t buy any pot from these people. In fact I’ve never seen Joe so disgusted with anything since I’ve known him (including “the cod”). He actually didn’t even say much all day after the experience...kinda funny ;).
