Spring Break 2006 was going to be a trip to remember. We were all going to Jamaica. I was pretty excited, because I hadn’t traveled a lot internationally and I was thrilled to be visiting a new country.
Our journey to Jamaica was pretty much hell. We had to fly on the smallest airplane I had ever been on. It literally had 4 chairs per row with an aisle down the middle. It was terrifying. Once we arrived in Jamaica we had a long shuttle ride to Negril. We arrived at the check-in location (we had booked with a third party Spring Break website) to find they had switched our hotel without our knowledge. The place was a shit hole. There were two doors that exited the room and one of them didn’t even lock. We had to wedge furniture against the door just to ensure that no one would come in and steal our stuff. On top of that, we had 5 girls in the room and they only provided us with 2 double beds, which meant someone was stuck on the couch. One of our roommates had booked her flights separately, because by the time she had committed to the trip, our flights were sold out. Apparently, the Spring Break company didn’t have her in their roster, so they never sent a shuttle to go pick her up from the airport. She had to beg someone to give her a ride. Keep in mind, Negril is like an hour and a half from the airport. We were not off to a great start.
After the pretty hectic first day we had, we decided to hit happy hour hard. One of the perks of booking with this Spring Break company, was the endless free boozing they provided. Our happy hour quickly turned into a happy five hours filled with Red Stripe and Jamaican rum. Someone suddenly decided that we should buy pot brownies.
Something we learned quickly in Jamaica is that they sold drugs EVERYWHERE. You would hear the guys from the water rental place combing the beach yelling, “Jet skis, booze cruise, weed.” The women who did hair braiding would offer you shrooms along with their service. On top of that, they had even less conspicuous drug bakeries scattered on the beach, on of them located right outside of our hotel. It was insanity. I had never seen anything like it.
I wasn't 100% sold on the idea, because as I mentioned before, I have never been that big on drugs in general, not even weed. But after the hectic day we had, and in an effort to loosen up a bit and try something crazy, I agreed to try a pot brownie. I mean, it was Jamaica. If you aren’t going to partake in the national pastime, then you aren’t really properly immersing yourself in their culture.
Someone ran off to the little drug bakery shanty and returned with what looked like a chocolate cake. We all split one piece and waited for the effects to roll in. And then it began. Suddenly, wild colors raced everywhere. People danced by in waves of images, moving slowly as their auras trailed behind them. My roommate and I sat on a log and giggled as we watched magical rainbow fish jump out of the water. We danced and skipped along the sparking beach. It was a trip, no literally, we were tripping out.
Just as suddenly as washed in, there came the crash. Two of the girls in my room got violently ill. Thank God our room had two bathrooms, because they hugged the toilets all night. My third roommate ran off to get food for them. In my mind, she had been kidnapped by locals so I ran all over the hotel screaming her name at the top of my lungs, while sobbing crying at her demise. I eventually returned to the room to find she had bought out the entire snack bar. Finally after a night of super highs (wink) and super lows, we fell asleep.
I awoke the next morning, still tripping. In my mind, I was done for. That was it for me. I had permanently messed up my brain. I was so scared to tell the other girls what was going on in my head. I was incredibly paranoid and so after a half assed attempt to try to lay on the beach, I shut myself for the remainder of the day.
Day 2: Still tripping
The third day I finally emerged. It was all over. After tripping for about a day and a half, I was free and relieved to find that I was still alive and mentally stable. I also discovered from some other hotel residents, that the “pot brownies” we had consumed were actually filled with shrooms. Let me promise you that nothing is more frightening than accidentally doing shrooms and there was no way I would have ever agreed to eat them in the first place.
Looking back on it now, it’s pretty entertaining to tell people that I accidentally did shrooms, though at the time, it was not very amusing. I’m just glad it’s a funny story I have in my repertoire and that I managed to live past the experience to tell the tale.
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