Locals and tooth brushes.

Vagator Beach, 27-01-1995. It took me two days to recover from my latest acid beach party two nights ago. GREAT, really with dancing on TECHNO music well into the first rays of the indian sun. When we left at 10 o`clock people were still dancing. When the first rays of the early dawn broke through the locals who inhabit the area of the party, watched the absolute madness with tooth brush in mouth. Kristoff dragged me off to the house of a finnish lady for a joint. Leaving her house several hours later and well under the "ïnfluence" he took me back to his sister`s place in Anjuna for yet more joints. His sister finally brought me home on the back of her Rajdoot - indian motor cycle - and when a bumb in the road pushed my pelvis area into her lower back area, she laughed about it. When late at night I walk down the road to Primrose together with Nico and Babsi a local says "hello" to Nico and wants to shake hands with him. "Do I know you?" asks Nico, "no" he replies. "Then fuck off, man!" says Nico and we walk on. Not really polite behaviour to a local in whose country we are mere guests but I decide not to interfere