The first thing that struck me was the leaves on the trees bursting out in density and colour, zooming straight into focus like someone had just flicked on a ‘high definition’ switch in my retinas. My gaze then shifted upwards as the fluffy clouds puffed out like white paint bursting on a baby blue canvas. The grass under my body spiked up on its end, trying hopelessly to lift me up into the art show above, as the trees waved and clapped on their brave effort.
“Look at that,” Dave elated, pointing into the sky. “A lion’s face and mane.”
Sure enough, like daylight star-gazers, I too saw it formed by the clouds, until its roar was drowned out by a plane tearing through the misty mass and leaving nothing but a rippled jet-stream in its wake.
“How cool is it to think there are 300 or so people sat up there travelling at hundreds of miles an hour and heading thousands of miles away?” mused Jackie. He’d turned into a true modern day philosopher.
“Sick man. Holy shit, though, look at that pigeon.”
I had been lying flat on my back, but in re-adjusting my position I’d lifted up my head slightly and locked eyes with a suspicious looking bird. It glared back and refused to break the gaze as if it were saying ‘I know what you’re up to, and I approve.’ I immediately burst out into hysterics, the tears rolling down my face hidden behind my sunglasses. The ‘laughter’ trigger of the truffles had clearly been pulled. Whilst I attempted to subdue this uncontrollable laughter streak an old man walked his dog past and a grin rose on his face. A second round of the giggles started. “He knows what’s up,” I whispered indiscreetly to my pals. “He definitely knows.”
Around the time we were reaching our maximum highs, a group of stacked 6ft+ Dutch guys used their T-shirts to set up goal posts on the grassy clearing we were overlooking and challenged some other dudes to a game of football. With a large number of female on-lookers, the testosterone was running almost as high as we were. Bare-backed slaps were dished out for each well-timed tackle or pass, and group hugs were the norm every time there was a score.
“That guy is so built,” blurted out Jake. “I mean, just look. He’s massive. I’m going to start going to the gym again. That’s certainly some end goals right there.”
Dave and I looked at each other with genuine concern. Was Jake about to come out?
Before we could take this line of thought any further though we were again distracted. This time however so was everyone else in our part of the park, high or not. A woman came by walking the fattest dog imaginable. Its stomach hung so low that you couldn’t even see its legs, and she was pulling a stroller behind her. The dog was so heavy that it had to be wheeled to and from the park before and after its exercise. Satisfactorily amused we turned back to the game of football, and in the time it took them to play the whole second half the dog had still not waddled from sight.
Glancing at my phone I realised that three hours had elapsed since we’d first swallowed the truffles, and I was starting to need the toilet. There were some portable toilets only 100m away, but when I suggested to the boys that I was going to venture off they looked at me like I’d said I was about to attempt a summit of Mount Everest.
“There’s no way you are going to make it man,” said Jake. “Look how far away that tree is.”
“What, the tree right next to the toilet?”
“Yeah,” said Dave, pausing Don McLean’s American Pie, which had been on repeat since we sat down.
“God, you’re right actually,” I found myself agreeing. “That tree is pretty far away. I’m never going to make it.”
In the fear of wetting myself for the first time as a grown adult, however, try I did. I made it across no bother at all, and whilst taking a piss began to wonder what all the initial concern was about. Wanting to get back to our little haven under the tree as quickly as possible, I’d sprinted across the grass like I'd been racing against Usain Bolt. As I began my return journey, however, I became consciously aware of how high I actually was. Feeling like I was floating across the ground like a ghost, and anxious to act normal, I decided to copy the movements of the man next to me who was walking in the same direction. I mirrored his hasty footsteps until I reached the boys, delighted at how I managed to complete the journey with no issues.
“Please tell me you were doing that deliberately?” guffawed Jake through fits of laughter.
“Doing what?” I said, genuinely confused.
“Walking as slowly as possible and taking the piss out of that guy beside you who was clearly as high as a kite.”
“Shut up! I thought he was walking normally so I was matching his steps.”
“Oh dear…”
Four and a half hours after we first felt the effects, the truffle magic eventually wore off and we returned back to reality, with its greying skies and dim foliage. The entire experience was absolutely brilliant and provided me with a host of new perspectives and ideas. They say money can’t buy happiness. Well, for €12.50 I was the happiest person in the world on that Friday afternoon.
