Trying Psychedelic Honey In Nepal

Psychedelic Honey

Getting high takes many forms, from shoving snow up your hooter, to dropping pills and even licking a frog’s arse, but in Nepal it is all about the psychedelic honey.

Said honey is harvested out in the boonies of the country and while largely not exported, it can be gotten in Kathmandu. So, seeing as I like honey AND getting off my tits, I decided to give it a try.

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What the Psychedelic Honey?

Psychedelic honey, or mad honey, is produced by the world’s most dangerous bee, the Himalayan giant bee (Apis dorsata laboriosa), the largest honeybee on earth. This magical goo is the result of these oversized stingers feeding on the nectar of white rhododendrons, which contain grayanotoxins – naturally occurring neurotoxins that cause hallucinations, euphoria, dizziness, and a general feeling of being off your nut. It’s been used for centuries by the Gurung people in central Nepal, both as a traditional medicine and, some say, a sacred way to chat with the gods. The actual harvesting process is insane, with locals dangling off 300-metre cliffs on rope ladders, fending off swarms of bees while cutting open giant combs dripping with this red-golden trip juice.

Despite its growing fame, the honey remains relatively scarce and is still mostly collected in the wild during just two harvesting seasons a year. This adds to its mystique – and its price – and makes it something that still feels a bit like a secret, even though word is definitely getting out.

Where Can You Get It?

Technically, the best way to get the stuff is to go full Bear Grylls. That means a week of hiking through leech-infested jungles and up cliff faces with a group of semi-mad but incredibly fit Gurung dudes, until you finally reach some remote village in Lamjung or Gorkha where they’ll maybe part with a small jar of the good stuff if you’re respectful and they like you. That’s the romantic way.

But realistically, unless you’ve got two weeks to kill and a death wish involving wasps the size of thumbs, you’re gonna end up buying it in Kathmandu. And bizarrely, for something so niche and semi-legal, it’s astonishingly easy to find. We bought ours in Thamel, just behind a shop selling Bob Marley hoodies and yak wool scarves, from a guy who also sold knives and yak cheese. You can find it in little herbal apothecaries, in trekking shops, and even from guys who approach you while you’re having momo and ask if you want the “real stuff.” Everyone knows what you’re talking about.

We paid around $120 for a small glass jar – expensive by honey standards, but when you’re in a supposedly communist country buying trippy bee spit from a dude with dreads and a fake Rolex, it all just kind of makes sense.

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What Is It Like?

Being the traveler, Pioneer, and dare I even say scientist, I was never going to turn down the opportunity to get semi-legally high. And boy did I set myself up for the event! Our evening started at a pretty gay “traditional dinner and a show” type thing, which, while a bit shit, did have unlimited Nepalese rice wine, or raksi as it’s known. This ensured my last night in Kathmandu certainly began with a glow to it.

Our group then went to what can only be described as a pretty shit rooftop bar (where we had to make our own drinks). Yet while the bar was lame, a Russian guest had nipped downstairs to fetch the honey. We all read that the optimum amount was two tablespoons, but could only find teaspoons. So naturally we just had four each, all assuming that worked out about right. Apparently doubling said dose is enough to make you violently sick and/or trip major donkey balls.

Taste-wise it was very honey-like, but with a beerish funk and a slightly bitter, medicinal aftertaste. One could almost call it gamey, if you were trying to be polite about it. As for the effects? I have to say it made me feel fairly good, light, a bit floaty, but far from making me trip out. One of the group claimed to see shapes in the shadows, but he was also drinking gin out of a teacup, so grain of salt.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. Ideally not while working, not on a school night, and ideally with a spotter, a day off, and the express goal of tripping absolute balls. It’s not quite LSD, but it’s got that weird, ancient buzz to it. Like licking a prehistoric toad. But sweeter.

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