Strictly speaking I learned that cannabis is legal(ish) in Lanzarote two days ago. It was about 11 p.m. local time, sitting under a clear starry sky, on the balcony of my holiday apartment.
Sat contemplating whether a bright spot in the sky I could see was Mars, Jupiter, or the North Star. My girlfriend and daughter were asleep inside, as I sat there taking a thin drag of a small joint I had rolled not five minutes before.
The phone rang, it was 
"...so have you scored any weed yet; what's the score over here?"
"Not yet, I have two joints left, so I think I'm going hunting tomorrow, it's very family orientated where I'm staying, so maybe a trip up coast is needed.
The Fox tells me to just go and hang on any beach with youngsters, and people are just smoking, it's practically legal here."
I hear tapping on a keyboard as Bleepcoin searches the term:
Where can I buy weed in Lanzarote?
"...there you go, no hang on.. that's just a guy posting pictures of bud...wow, look, Tripadvisor have a write up...Lanzarote has cannabis cafes!
Woah! this one's called Grass Monkey; do you want the phone number? No! You'll remember that won't you?
"Of course! Where is it?"
"Puerta Del Carmen"
"I passed it yesterday, that's about a half hour from us; methinks a family excursion to Puerta Del Carmen for tomorrow then!
The Hunt
The Pub Front
I feel like a predator hunting down its prey and an intrepid explorer all rolled into one.
After a hearty breakfast, we set out on our journey, my girlfriend and daughter are equally excited, but for very different reasons.
After a brief hiccup; I forgot the passport you need to become a member of Grass Monkey, something you need to do before purchasing any cannabis... we set off.
A bus ride that ends just in time; travel sickness rears its ugly head in the belly of my six year old darling, just as it's time to get off; phew!
We immediately go to the nearest pharmacy and buy pastillas mareo por ninos (child travel sickness pills), and procure a map from a very pleasant and talkative pharmacist.
We find the beach front, and make arrangements to meet back here for some beach fun, after my mission.
Grass Monkey
The Grass Monkey
Immediately after feeling a twinge of nostalgia about the days before mobile phones, when making arrangements to meet (my girlfriend left her phone in the apartment). I logged into Google maps and plotted a course to the Grass Monkey.
After a ten minute stroll, and a walk around the back of an Irish pub, I see the Grass Monkey sign above a brown door; I knock and enter.
I'm greeted by a rich aroma of weed and a cheerful Dutch guy standing behind a counter; named Jordi, he is in the middle of registering an Italian guy who is hunched over a form with his passport out on the counter.
After smiling hello to Jordi, I wait patiently and look around; to the right of me is the main cafe. A small room with a couple of tables in the middle, and a couple by the back wall below a small window.
The place is well lit by the sun streaming into the room, lighting up the tendrils of marijuana smoke wafting lazily in the afternoon breeze.
A young backpacker couple are standing by the far wall having just rolled themselves some of the produce.
My attention switches back to Jordi as he tells us the rules...
"OK; I have to tell you guys this; it is completely legal for you to buy, and consume cannabis in these premises. However it is not legal for you to remove it from this cafe."
The Italian looks worried and starts to utter a small protest; Jordi holds up his hand to stop him...
"Look, it is up to you what you do, if you decide to hide it and leave and I don't see you, I can't stop you. However it is at your own risk..."
The Italian still doesn't get it... maybe he's already stoned.
"...but!"
"Look! I am legally obliged to say that to you; do you understand?"
"Yes, but I need to go...!"
Still doesn't get it; I am seconds away from a facepalm.
"Listen, do what you want; I'm just covering my arse, those are the rules."
The sound of a penny dropping down a deep empty well....
"Ah! Si! Va bene!"
OK, my turn now...
The Merchandise
Inside The Grass Monkey
As mentioned above, I'm on a family holiday, 2 weeks of wholesome fun in the sun.
So I'm not really into getting stoned out of my mind everyday, it's just nice to smoke a joint or two, of an evening, with my beloved, after the little one has gone to sleep.
That guided my decision, even though the smell emannating from the many jars just inches from my head, was making me want to go sample crazy!
In the end, I went for some medium strength, good quality grade Moroccan pollen. Then because I had heard of it but never tasted, I bought some isolator hash.
I paid €50 for six grams of the medium grade, and €20 for just one gram of the Isolator.
The High
Isolator Hash
So I'm sitting here, the morning after the night before; the medium grade has a lovely oakey taste, and a creeping, mellow high, which leaves you warm and fuzzy. Perfect with a glass of Spanish Rioja.
The Isolator, is a slightly harsher smoke, with a denser, treacle like taste. The buzz is what I'd describe as twanging, and leaves you with the sense that you've been wrapped in cotton wool and then bubble wrap, popping gently about your ears.
All in all, I'll be going back there again, and I'd highly recommend, you do the same. :-)
The view after my medium grade smoke
Till Next Time
Cryptogee