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A tea, a coffee and two joints, please...

Ian Herbert

The Independent

Tuesday 20 Nov 2001

---


Business is on a high at Britain's first cannabis
cafe, Dutch Experience in Stockport. Ian Herbert
joins the crowds and discovers that the proprietor
Colin Davies already has ambitious plans for the
future


The first hint that something mildly taboo lies
near Marge's Tarot Studio and the Uniline gymnasium,
in backstreet Stockport, comes from schoolboys
skulking around the corner in Bridgefield Street.
"Go in and get some for us, mate. I've got the
tenner," pleads Dave, whose complexion and companions
- three uniformed fourth formers - do little to
advance his brave claim to be 18.

"Get what?"

"What they're selling in there."

He means the weed. Every self-respecting
Stockport schoolboy knows that Dutch Experience,
Britain's first Amsterdam-style coffee shop, is
downstairs from Marge's place, though they're
learning from painful experience that they won't
get their hands on so much as one of its Mars
bars, let alone a £15 packet of Lebanese gold
resin or skunk grass.

There's already a designated graveyard for forged
ID cards behind the coffee bar - testimony to the
rigour with which an over-18s rule is policed.
Dave's ID lies within it: he'd evidently gone it
alone some time earlier. Amid animated chatter
and a delicious, late afternoon fug of marijuana
smoke, 44-year-old Colin Davies, the proprietor,
looks like a man who could use a joint. The under-
age teenagers have been trying it on since
lunchtime; someone's jammed the table football and
the relentless call on his 40p teas and 50p coffees
has taken its toll on his milk supply, with a full
six hours to closing. "We started out asking the
milkman for four litres a day," he says, watching
one of his coffee bar-staff stagger in with bottles
of semi-skimmed. "We put it up to 12 and it's still
way off."

Davies stumbled on a goldmine when he set up the
cafe in partnership with Nol van Scheik, the
creator of Amsterdam's founding cannabis cafe,
two months ago. He's currently attracting 500
patrons a week and there were never fewer than
50 between noon and 10pm (closing time) last
Friday. A second Dutch Experience opened in
Worthing last Wednesday, and outlets are planned
for Dundee, Preston, and neighbouring Manchester.

A report published today by the scientific journal
Drug and Alcohol Findings for the home affairs
select committee will do no harm either, calling
for more such establishments to solve many of the
drug-related deaths and health problems
traditionally associated with cannabis use. For
Davies, this is all a long way from the patients'
smoking room at the Sheffield spinal injuries unit
where, on Christmas Eve 1995, he was lying flat on
his back, dosed up with morphine and temporarily
paralysed by breaks to three vertebrae, caused by
a fall. There, he met a paraplegic car crash victim
who first told him to try cannabis for the pain. He
shared her joint and was beginning to appreciate the
benefits when his father arrived to wheel him back
to the ward.

He could have used more cannabis immediately but
since the accident had done for his promising
career in carpentry and state benefits were
providing him with just £65 a week to live off,
he started growing his own. Within a year, Davies
had encountered four patients in the same
predicament and each started chipping in for seed
which he grew in a back room and shipped out by
secure mail order. He established the Medical
Marijuana Co-operative, the kind of venture he'd
read was working in the US. Davies was already
attracting the attention of the medical fraternity
when a police raid resulted in him being tried at
Manchester Crown Court, charged with intent to
supply, in 1996. His spectacular acquittal on the
testimony of patients from Edinburgh and Leeds was
a turning point - "one of those things that life
deals you," he says.

It meant word was out about his co-operative and
dozens suffering the pain of multiple sclerosis
and rheumatoid arthritis realised that the
embarrassment of their covert trips to street
dealers was no longer necessary: 200 signed up
with the necessary authorisation certificates,
signed by their GPs. Many of them would still
rather receive their cannabis in brown envelopes
than step into the bohemian cafe, with its external
faux Victorian lamps, salmon pink roller blinds and
pea green tables, which were shipped in from
Amsterdam, but the sight of wheelchairs being pulled
from vehicles is now familiar in Bridgefield Street.

They belong to people such as Jane - Davies's
"resident miracle" from north Manchester, who was
registered blind in 1986 when MS took hold. A note
from her GP remarks on the "remarkable improvement"
of her health since she began taking Davies's high
quality cannabis 12 months ago. "It's the quality
of the stuff - much better quality than what you get
on the street," she says. "I've been sold Oxo cubes
so many times but this stuff is free and it reaches
my bones better - the pain relief's better than
anything the doctor gives me. I couldn't afford to
buy it."

Other customers include Kate Bradley, a former drugs
squad officer with the West Midlands police force,
who has smoked cannabis since her MS was diagnosed
in 1991 and supports his project. And there is Laurence
Brearley, a 57-year-old former lorry driver currently
in care 15 miles away, who makes weekly visits by taxi
at Davies's expense and regales the house with stories
of his long-distance days.

"It's the MHS - the Marijuana Health Service," laughs
Davies, pleased with the joke, the eclectic bunch he
has gathered and the fulfilment of his cafe's purpose
- to use the money made from social users of cannabis
to provide it free or at cost price for medicinal
users. Co-operative members now just get a note,
asking for a contribution to funds if they feel able.
"People in wheelchairs shouldn't have to pay for their
medicine, they should get it free, and that's what
we're doing," said Davies.

The cafe's number of recreational users increased
sharply to around 300 a week after the Home Secretary,
David Blunkett, announced that cannabis possession will
no longer be an arrestable offence.

"They're feeling great because they can walk around
with weed in their pocket," says Davies, puffing
away in front of a coffee bar adorned with his
cannabis memorabilia, including a framed photograph
of the moment he handed the Queen a bunch of flowers
with reefers inside, last year.

Local police seem resigned to Mr Blunkett's effective
decriminalisation of cannabis, too. Their attempts to
arrest Davies on the morning the cafe opened in
September, ended in scuffles and loud chants of "We
want to smoke weed", sung to the tune of Queen's "I
Want to Break Free". But though an estimated 500
joints a week are now exchanging hands, officers
have since visited just twice: once to assist after
a burglary, once to hand back property seized in the
raid. "We recognise there is ongoing debate and
research into the medical benefits or otherwise of
cannabis," said Greater Manchester Police, in a
statement. "The police, in appropriate cases,
exercise discretion and judgement."

Stockport council seems equally relaxed. It didn't
reply to a letter from Davies, which set out his
plans two weeks before opening, but sent him a
rates bill instead. The establishment is not
being disturbed because it simply does not attract
trouble. "No alcohol, or drunk and disorderly
persons on the premises," states a sign inside.
"Alcohol is not a part of the mature cannabis
culture and the cafe is giving us the chance to
educate people about that," says Davies. To date,
he has not goaded drugs squad officers by selling
cannabis openly through a booth with a menu,
though this is in his plans.

Dutch Experience won't become a franchise
operation but individuals who seem committed to
the cause - such as MS sufferer Chris Baldwin in
Worthing - will be given the knowledge and back-
up to open other outlets, with a "10 per cent
override" to Stockport. At least one North West
commercial developer has also approached Davies
to point out the value of the upper-middle class
market in the south Manchester suburbs five miles
away.

"He said I could be selling cappuccinos for £3
instead of 50p Nescafe instants and flog £15 bags
of weed for £30," Davies reveals. "But it's not my
thing, really. I'm just desperate to get Dundee up
and running in the New Year. We've got patients on
our co-operative list from the Orkneys and it means
we can transfer them up there."

 

 

 

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