The fool on the hill

By mooncoin

Grass

Woke to rain. Walked into town with a couple of interailers. Weather brightened up. Got a 10k lift on edge of town with a gendarme going home for dinner. Next was an old lady who stopped when I wasn’t even thumbing. Later, whilst we were speeding down the road she suddenly pulled into the side, skidding on the gravel. I wondered what was wrong. It turned out she only stopped to give me some of her delicious cherry flan. After which we sped off again!
Two more lifts got me to Perigeux and after a walk through town one more with a couple of youngsters to somewhere near Les Eyzies.
Five minutes later I was in a Citroen van with an American living in France called Phil. He told me I could stay at his place so I jumped at the chance. He said he had to call at a friend’s place to deliver some bits. His friend was a jewellery maker named Jaques.
After dropping the bits off and having a couple of apéritifs we went on our way. Phil asked if I’d ever smoked grass. I said only resin. So we stopped at Anne’s house and had another couple of aperitifs and went to the garden to see the ‘crop’. We sat in the garden drinking and smoking and I felt fine. Ten minutes later I started to sweat and feel distinctly unwell. After a while I felt a bit better and nipped to the toilet. The act of walking must’ve got everything surging around again and the world was spinning so much that I collapsed in a heap in the bathroom and it took all my will power to stand again.
By the time we got to Phil’s house I felt ok.
Phil said he’d see Jaques in the morning to asked if he had any work for me.

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