Marijuana laws in Melbourne
What’s the law if you get caught with weed in Victoria, Australia?
While medicinal marijuana has been legalised in Victoria, unless you have a licence, it’s still illegal to buy, sell and consume.
Like many countries, the laws for cannabis possession in Australia vary between states. Each state has adopted a harm minimization approach.
According to Victorian Legal Aid, if you’re caught with up to fifty grams of marijuana in Victoria, you will get a caution from police, rather than being formally charged in a court. However, you can be charged with possession no matter the quantity. The decision to warn or charge you for possession of marijuana is at police discretion.
If you’re buying small amounts of weed, for example, you purchase five grams of pot from a Melbourne based website, and you’re caught for whatever reason, this will almost certainly result in a police caution if it’s your first offense. Police will allow up to two cautions before you’re charged with marijuana possession.
In the above situation where you’re buying dope online, it’s hard to imagine the police posing as a dealer in order to entrap you — with most the deals being so small scale and all — but you never know…
Places where police are active in Melbourne
Police sniffer dogs are found at the international and domestic airports, on public trains, trams and major public events such as music festivals and sport and cultural activities. Police in Melbourne and Victoria are equipped to carry out roadside tests for the presence of illicit drugs. At the time of writing, these tests are targeted at truckies and have not been rolled out to wider public as we’ve seen in New South Wales.
What to do if you get caught
If police do catch you smoking weed, be polite and professional. Victorian police are not like overseas police, do not try and bribe your way out or make a deal as this will put you in a worse position. Your best chance of getting off the hook it by showing respect and compliance.
If you are charged, the police will need to prove that the substance was actually yours and that it was dope. If the police find weed in a space you control, such as your car or handbag, then it’s considered to be yours. And if you’re charged with possession, you can also be charged with consuming marijuana, which can carry an additional penalty.
Thanks to the internet, buying dope in Melbourne is a delightful treat.
I used a guy called KingMango or something like that and his service was amazing. Don’t pay up front, get the person to do cash on delivery (COD) and speak to them over the phone, if necessary, you won’t have any problems.
Are you wondering where to buy weed in Melbourne?
If you’re new to Melbourne, making connections has been made much easier thanks to the internet, specifically Craigslist.
Overseas there was a lot of dealing on the street. In Melbourne, if you have an internet connected smartphone, download a messenger application called ‘Wikr’. It’s an encrypted messenger service you can use to chat with dealers who will deliver throughout Melbourne for a fee.
Search the litany of dealers on Craigslist who come up when you type the words ‘buy weed Melbourne’ into Google, and do the message thing with Wikr until you find the right person. They all have names like 420 Melbourne or KushKing and so on. And many of these places will sell a whole lot of other shit like ice and coke if that’s what you’re in to.
The minimum delivery is generally a quarter ounce: $100 – $120 + delivery. Although first time I picked up a guy was in the area so he did a $50 (an eighth). You can calculate the rest from there. Like everything, discounts apply in bulk; larger purchases come with the associated risk.
Never pay money in advance.
Look for the people offering cash on delivery. Move on to the next seller if you’re being asked to pay by wire transfer such as a Moneygram payment. Some sellers offer pickup and delivery, delivery can cost $10 – $20. The scammers are persistent and beg.
Regarding security and persecution, the state government adopts a view of harm minimization. The purchasing of small amounts of illicit substances for recreational use is a risk many people are willing to take, and the law reflects this. Unless you’re caught red handed, fingers crossed police have their sights on bigger fish.
The beauty of the internet is the ability to communicate and review. If you have a tip for other people to stay away from a particular seller, let yourself be heard below.
The police are not looking for users, they want the big fish
A friend of mine recently took a trip to Amsterdam. On his way back to London, he stopped in Paris so we could catch up and have a beer and a smoke. The police searched him at the train station and found a bunch of weed and hash. You can read about his experiences with the marijuana laws in Paris, France below.
He came to Paris by train. There were no issues crossing the borders between Holland, Belgium and France. The Gendarmerie didn’t search the train (although I’m told if you get the bus, like MegaBus, OuiBus or a similar cheap option, the Gendarmerie have been known to stop and search vehicles, and they can do this up to a number of kilometers on either side of the crossing between countries. In my experience, I’ve never had any issues with bringing dope from Amsterdam to Paris.). Although weed is not legal in Paris or any part of France for that matter, carrying a personal amount is only a minor offense under French drug laws and, more often than not, will confiscate the weed or similar drug.
He (my mate) tells me he was carrying 13 grams of weed, two grams of hash and a pipe with him on the train. He arrived at Gare du Nord, the north terminal and one of the main stations of Paris. The police were waiting for him when he exited the carriage to the platform.Technically this is trafficking; however, he says the police were pretty cool about it. They took his dope and let him go with a warning. A French friend tells me that it’s not uncommon for Police to lock you up for a couple of hours or a night in the precinct jail as a warning; however, more than likely, depending on the amount, you’ll get a slap on the wrist and a stern warning.
The key is to be polite. If it’s your first offense, the police have so much to do that they don’t give a shit about the tourist on the street with a personal supply of dope. Gare du Nord is not the best part of Paris; there are pickpockets, junkies and violent people in this area, the police have better things to do than arrest a foreigner for some weed. That being said, it really can depend on the arresting officer’s mood.
The police did make a copy of his passport and they did say that he was now ‘known’ to the Police at Gare du Nord. I suppose he could book a trip to one of the other major stations in town if he was keen to try it again.
Read more: How to buy weed in Paris.
From the horse’s mouth
I got him to write about what happened.
“I’d tempted fate far too many times traveling Europe over the years by carrying what is essentially a harmless yet still illegal substance from country to country. The border crossing policy is relaxed, especially so if you’ve got a European or British passport.
Half an ounce of weed in two separate glass, smell-proof tubes (which cost an arm and a leg I’ll add) and 3 grams of fine Moroccan hash stashed in a compartment in my grinder.
Read more: Where to buy hash in Paris.
I’d taken a similar amount on a bus ride traveling the same route with a friend a few years back and there were no issues then. I didn’t expect any this time either.
I slept most of the three hour train ride, and at one point as the train pulled into Gare du Nord, I thought, ‘I should probably stick this stuff down my pants, just in case.
The state of emergency had just been introduced to France following multiple terror attacks, there were more police than usual in the stations and on the streets.
As soon as the doors of the trains opened, the police came right up to me. They blurted something in French to which I could only reply: ‘No’ — It took a while to get the point across that I didn’t speak French. They patted me down and examined my passport.
Tip! The head cop told me wearing any clothing with weed or weed related images is illegal in France.”
[Editors note: As an illegal drug, representation or promotion of weed is also illegal. This includes the display of marijuana iconography on clothing.]
“The police then asked me if I had any drugs in my possession. I willingly gave up my grinder with the hash in the hope they would pass on searching my bag with the rest of my weed. When they asked me if I had anything in my bag I said, ‘I might but I don’t think so.’
They found my dope packed in the airtight tubes very quickly. I turned to Dad-cop, who appeared to be the most rational of the group and gave him a, ‘you-can’t-be-fucking-serious look’. Dad-cop then asked if I’ve ever been to France and if I knew the drug laws. He said it was an offense that carried three nights in jail. I kinda sunk after that, deflated, and let him do his thing as the prospect of a night in the pen was pretty fucked-up.
Bastille day was around the corner and it was late at night, they let me off. They figured out I was a heavy smoker and wasn’t coming to Paris to sell pot. I really don’t think they could’ve been fucked dealing with it. So I packed my bag, thanked the guy for his ‘gift’ (as he put it) and as one last cheeky parting shot, I looked at the weed and said with a serious face ‘I’m cool to take that, right?’ His face morphed and I laughed, said I was joking, winked and walked off. Not the worst experience dealing with the police I’ve had, but certainly not the result I wanted.”
Homie got D.T.F.O.
Proposition 215 makes marijuana cultivation and possession legal in the state of California.
Since the mid-90’s, medical marijuana patients have been allowed to carry up to half a pound of processed cannabis flower (what we call pot) in public and can grow up to approximately 100 plants at home. No one knows exactly number of plants you can have in your personal crop — not even the judges. The transition from illegal gateway drug to legal medication has raised some interesting observations about marijuana’s place in society.
“Hey man, you want to get evaluated?”
The first time I visited the United States, I saw a weed doctor and got my papers so I could visit the cannabis dispensaries in Los Angeles. The issue was thrust upon me by a young man in a fluorescent green nylon body suit holding a green sign: “Hey man, you want to get evaluated?”
I lied to a doctor so I could buy weed in L.A. (and so does everyone else)
You must visit a doctor to get your papers. Calling the man a doctor is like calling a McDonald’s drive-through a restaurant. It takes about ten minutes and costs $150. Maybe one in ten people who come here are actually medicalized. I certainly wasn’t sick, nor did I have a condition that necessitated my marijuana use (other than the lack thereof). I repeat a line I read on the internet: “I’ve got an old sports injury and I have trouble sleeping.” In five minutes I’m out the door. At Venice Beach, the doctors and dispensaries are for tourists. It’s a cash-grab for the establishments issuing the license, the dispensaries right around the corner and the government.
Enter the Goddess
A pot-dispensary just off the main beach that’s staffed by beautiful women. They flirt for their tips. Everyone is a sommelier. The Goddesses proffer jars packed with dope for customers to stick their nose in before they buy. People nod drearily and smile in euphoric intoxication.
The Green Goddess clutches the pretense of a vaguely medical establishment like a young child trying to make an impression on an older sibling’s friends. It’s an obvious effort to elevate marijuana, and it’s consumption, from long established seedy connotations.
And then there’s hash oil.
Butane Hash Oil, cannabis concentrate, or wax as users call it, has a couple of different names and forms, and makes up about half the products on sale at the shop. Concentrates are big business. Kids are going crazy for the super high.
As weed moves out of the shadows and into the mainstream, wax is just one of the subcultures that have taken it’s place on the fringes of society. Music, clothes, street art, people love their wax.
After a chat with one of the Goddesses at the dispensary, I did find out at the time that is was illegal to manufacture wax in California — she got a tip.
So where’s the fucking wax coming from?
The new artificers of cannabis
It’s been a week since my first counter with the golden brown THC sludge at the Green Goddess. In that time, through a friend of a friend, I made the acquaintance of Luke. He makes wax. At the age of just 23 he operates in a clandestine laboratory in the Californian hills where he makes the product, sells it locally and send the excess interstate. He comes to California because there is a lot of dope here.
The flower that growers can’t sell to the dispensaries (the trim) will be used to make THC wax. Trim is the low-grade leftover bud after the cannabis product has been harvested. It’s too shitty to sell, but it’s still pot — I’ve smoked trim more than once. Wax is an opportunity to turn trim into money as THC extraction methods yield the same results when either low quality or high quality cannabis is used.
Luke had hooked up with a grower and was operating the wax side of the boss’s cannabis business. There are limited opportunities for new players in the wax-saturated Californian market. With enough weed, and some common ingredients like compressed butane gas, anyone can make wax, which is exactly the problem for authorities.
Laws were tightened in response to a number of incidents where home wax ‘labs’ went up in flames. Some people died so the government decided to categorize cooking wax along with the more insidious process of meth production. Naturally the states that allow Marijuana cultivation are also dealing with the wax explosion — no pun intended. Where’s there’s weed there’s wax, and where’s there’s a semi-legal market, there are massive profits to be made. Luke is taking a risk, but he doesn’t seem too concerned. When he speaks about how he makes the wax, he speaks with an artisan enthusiasm. “Everyone’s a connoisseur of something in California.” Luke says.
Just like there are different strains of cannabis bud, there are many different types of wax. Honeycomb and shatter are two names — you get the idea. Personally, I thought it all tasted the same, but don’t tell that to Luke. The artisan aspect of the process is something that is heavily promoted by growers and makers in order to elevate the status of their scene. Considering how most people smoke wax, by taking a ‘dab’ (street for a wax hit) through a rig that looks like hard drugs, I can see why users and makers are keen to promote themselves as the new artificers of cannabis.
Although you can smoke a mixture of Cannabis flower and THC wax in a joint in a similar way you smoke hash, from what I saw, most people prefer to smoke out of a bong like water-pipe called a ‘Rig’. The process has less in common with smoking weed and more in common with smoking crack.
Apply heat to a metal piece sitting on top of the down-pipe till it’s red hot and then take a glob of the wax, drop it on the hot surface and then inhale the vapor. It has the effect of smoking a huge fucking joint to yourself and doing it all in a few seconds. And this stuff is strong. The THC percentage of wax products is close to 90%. More than double the strength of cannabis flower. Users say it gets them higher than they’ve ever been in their lives. And I agree.
The health implications of smoking wax remain to be seen. Concern over inhaling residual chemicals doesn’t seem important to the people I see smoking wax. I think once you make the decision to become affected through means of inhalation, you become comfortable with the repercussions of accepting foreign chemicals into your body. Chemicals aside, anything that makes you cough like hitting a dab first thing in the morning can not be good for you. But that doesn’t stop Luke. He’s a wax man and he love his stuff. He won’t touch tobacco and he seldom smokes marijuana flower.
It’s morning and someone is awake.
My eyes instinctively pop open at the sound of the aggressive ripping of a butane flame. Luke is heating the rig. I look to the other side of our sleeping space, past the cream carpet pockmarked by cigarette embers.
Luke breathes in as much of the vapor as he can manage. He looks left and then right attempting to vacuum the escaped whips of smoke into his lungs.
Luke leans back into the folds of the couch.
“Fuck that was a big one.” He says looking over at me.
“Yeah.” I agree. The last sentence took the last of his resolve and now he’s doubled over. Marijuana never killed anyone — dabs have.
“Help yourself,” Luke says.
“I’m alright, mate.” He doesn’t hear.
Homie got dabbed-the-fuck-out.