WHAT'S A GIRL LIKE YOU DOING WITH A JOINT LIKE THIS?

A BLANKET of pure white still lay on the ground. But what was this
unsightly blot on the landscape? With a patchouli-scented scarf around my
head and the earnest expression usually worn by left-leaning vegetarians
across my face, I arrived in Tunbridge Wells and immediately became the
subject of intense suspicion.

People crossed the street to get away from me, even before the day's
burning issue had been broached.

Already from my clothes, the people of Tunbridge Wells guessed I was No
Good, a little slice of Camden come to make mischief in this, the most
traditional of Middle Englands.

The burning issue, as the fervent campaigners for the legalisation of
cannabis and nobody else seemed to know, was the reclassification of
cannabis from a Class B to a Class C drug. Those who support the move refer
to it as 'a small step in the right direction'.

They claim that the drug is so ubiquitous that rolling up a joint, even in
public, has become a non-event.

'It's, like, really not a big deal anymore,' said a spokesman from the
pro-legalisation group, Hempire. Perhaps the man from Hempire should pay a
visit to Kent. We started off with a 'joint' filled with a pungent blend of
herbal tobacco substitute that smelled convincingly of marijuana.

'Is that a reefer?' barked one anoraked man in his 40s who then declined to
give me a light. 'Well, you better get rid of it or the plod will get you.'
He walked off muttering about bloody students.

Down the way in Mount Pleasant Road, two portly businessmen had sneaked out
of the office to suck on a crafty cigarette. Yes, they had a light but,
Christ, look at the size of that will you, John! 'Is it what I think it
is?' one said, awed, before brandishing the lighter with a flourish. 'That
is,' said 'John', quoting Danny the Dealer from the film Withnail and I,
'what you call a Camberwell Carrot! Never been to Camberwell but I'd like
to have a look at their vegetable patches.

Neither John nor his friend knew anything about the change in the law nor
cared. 'For me, all that business is in the past now, darling. That's why
I've moved here.'But for most people in Tunbridge Wells, a joint is an
unfamiliar object, most often confused with a cigarette roll-up. In a
population with a disproportionate number of people in their sixties and
over, the sight of a woman smoking what looks like a very long cigarette on
the street sets off only mild alarm bells.

If the joint confused people, the bong - a water pipe used to smoke
cannabis - baffled them. Our pistol grip rainbow bong, a bestseller among
potheads at the London 'head shop' Alchemy, was variously confused with a
lamp, a torch, a plunger and an objet d'art.

Two women told me I could find a light at Comet, the electrical store. A
third suggested Duracell. A man in a flat cap walked off in disgust,
convinced that I had wanted a light for my 'bomb'. A more direct tactic was
needed. We went to the tourist office.

If initially the woman behind the desk had been a picture of accommodating
friendliness her face swiftly reorganised itself into a cold hard stare
when asked whether she could name any cannabis-smoking facilities in
Tunbridge Wells. 'There are none that I know of,' came the reply through
clenched teeth.

What about hotel rooms? Surely a hotel room now ranks as a private space
according to the new guidelines. Already her colleague had bounced up,
ready to show me the door. Hadn't the law been relaxed recently? 'Not, I'm
afraid, in Tunbridge Wells,'she smiled. 'You're thinking of somewhere else.
Possibly not Britain.

Our last stop was the restaurant Thackeray's, a no-smoking eaterie, and the
only place in Tunbridge Wells to have been awarded a Michelin star.

Like the tourist officer before them, the staff, friendly enough through
the meal, retreated into stiff silence when we lit up what looked like a
joint. Somehow they never got round to throwing us out or telling us to
stub it out.

Instead, watching us hawkishly from the kitchen, they muttered and growled
and slowed the service down to a crawl. Surely they too had heard about and
had been confused by the mysterious changes in the law.

Smoking cigarettes is banned in Thackeray's but cannabis? An hour later we
left, the remnants of the unmentionable pretend joint stubbed out at the table.

Where The Law Stands

CLASS A: heroin, cocaine, crack, LSD, ecstasy. Penalties: possession, seven
years' jail plus/or unlimited fine, or both; possession with intent to
supply, life imprisonment, unlimited fine or both; supplying, life
imprisonment, unlimited fine or both.

CLASS B: amphetamines,barbiturates, codeines. Penalties: possession, five
years or unlimited fine or both; possession with intent to supply, 14 years
or an unlimited fine or both; supplying, 14 years or unlimited fine or both.

CLASS C: cannabis, GHB, steroids. Penalties: possession, two years plus/or
unlimited fine; possession with intent to supply, 14 years' jail plus/or
unlimited fine; supplying, 14 years plus or unlimited fine.