…but one life-changing experience did
happen on this doomed trip to Samsoe. It began with a stupid argument; at 2:45, my grandfather snapped, “look
at the time! We were supposed to have had our coffee 45 minutes ago!” My
grandmother replied, “stop whining you…”. I didn’t
hear the rest as I angrily left and wandered aimlessly around the campsite. On the outskirts, I met an old guy who
looked like Winston Churchill. He lived here all
year round in an ancient caravan held together with duct
tape and rope, with the paint
coming off. He asked if I wanted to smoke a joint with him, and though I was a
bit creeped out, I’m not one to turn down a good high! He invited me inside his
caravan which was filled with pictures of peacocks,
blue tits and a large portrait of a man with a
top hat. On the kitchen table were large piles of scallions, pearl onions, red potatoes, and a raw chicken with flies surrounding it. Eww, I
thought, hoping he didn’t offer me dinner as well. He opened a hollowed-out
bible containing the weed which he said was his
own strain, ”Unicorn Blood”. While the high sat
in, he talked about the wonders of the earth,
the love of his life, Sun Yan, whom he had been
sending money to for 25 years, and he even showed me his six shooter which he was very proud of. “To ward off
little shits like you”, he roared with laughter and slapped me in the back. He
also told me about his time at the psychiatric ward
which made me feel awkward, so I excused myself and went to the toilet. Over the sink was a sign that read, “please remember to wash your hands” which was ironic
since the caravan was filthy as shit. When I came back, he asked why I was
walking around alone to which I replied that I was on a shitty holiday with my
grumpy grandparents, and that I could not take their bickering anymore. He
replied, “You may be surrounded by other people’s shit, but that does not mean
that you have to eat it. Remember son, you are your own engine and you decide
what to feed it with”. Sitting there, high as a kite in this surprisingly
humorous and nice man’s gross caravan, I remember thinking that that was the
deepest thing I had ever heard. For some reason, it filled me with a clarity and
serenity I had never felt before, and to this day, I live by his words. I also
felt bad for judging the guy when he was a clearly the epitome of the people of
Samsoe; open, warm and generous. Never would I judge again! When I came back,
my grandma cried, “where have you been?” “Just around the corner” I replied as I hugged her tight, never wanting to
leave her again and asked her if she had more of that Violife
vegan cheese.
