It was August, early in the afternoon, in Amsterdam. We were sitting on the grass next to a small artificial lake. A considerable amount of weed had already been smoked and we were just finishing our mushroom and falafel snack. Naturally, the mushrooms were of the magic variety.

My friend thought it was a great idea to smoke some 20x salvia extract while we were waiting for the mushrooms to kick-in. He was the only one to go ahead. He smoked a couple hits of salvia in a cheap pipe. The high came on fast and hard. We didn’t really pay much attention to him until about half an hour later when he was making sense again.

About halfway on his salvia trip he decided to lie down in the grass and close his eyes. At some point he heard a male voice with a Jamaican accent. “Hey mon, are you dead?”. That is probably a conversation you don’t want to have while you are tripping balls on salvia. So he opened his eyes, only to see a Jamaican looking guy with long dreads leaning over him. “Do you want me to call an ambulance mon?”. He explained that he was fine as best as he could. “Okay mon, enjoy yourself”. And the rasta-man went on his way.