He took us down several different roads, all of which were as active and crowded as Las Ramblas in Barcelona. At last, he stopped at a store front with windows covered in black tint. My friend and I glanced at one another, and then I decided to investigate while she waited outside.
I stepped into a small reception room. There was man behind a desk with a computer and a door to his left. The promotor who brought us there opened the door and allowed me to look inside. To my relief, I find a lounge with two rooms and a bar. There are couches everywhere, and people of various ages, genders and nationalities lounging about, smoking cannabis.
The smell hit me immediately as curious eyes turned my way. I fetched my friend.
As expected, they required our full name, ID number, and a signature. Curiously (and suspiciously) they did not ask for an address. Finally, after a 20-euro membership fee, which grants us access to the club for a year, we are permitted inside.
Partaking in an Entirely New Travel Experience
There was no music in the club. It was well lit, and the furniture does not match. Straight ahead at the very back of the space was the bar, mostly unoccupied and selling only beer. To my right, in a small alcove, was a small glass display case with a budtender standing behind it.
The tables around the room held piles of rolling papers and grinders.
In front of me were large plastic jars filled with various strains: OG Kush, Kandy Kush, Amnesia, and Skunk to name a few. There was wax in small glass jars with homogenous labels on them, and homemade pot brownies on a cake stand under a glass cover.
Find OG Kush, Kandy Kush, Amnesia, and Skunk Nearby
The strains seemed high-quality in scent and appearance, I chose Skunk and had the budtender weigh 5-euros worth. To my surprise, I received about a gram of cannabis—much more than I would be able to use in the club. Around the walls, signs reminded patrons that the cannabis is not supposed to leave the premises, but I suspect that many find ways to take it with them at their own risk.
The tables around the room held piles of rolling papers and grinders. I borrowed a lighter from a man beside me, who was an Italian tourist.
I spent about an hour there that night, smoking my elevating joint, chatting with others in the club, and relaxing on the sofa. When finished, I gifted the remainder of my 5-euro gram to the promoter who brought us to the club.
Back on the colorful Barcelona streets, I was giggly and giddy as I breathed in the sights, the smells, and the sun. Was it pure luck that showed me such a pleasant experience at an almost random Las Ramblas club? Without knowing where that first alley led, it’s hard to say.
Regardless, there is no need for other tourists to follow this demonstration of curiosity—especially when there are plenty of large cannabis clubs to attend as part of your vacation.
If you’d like to experience Spain’s cannabis clubs, do your research, apply for membership ahead of time, and remember to be respectful and discreet.
Lead image: (benedek/iStock)
Flood image: (dem10/iStock)
