Out of the darkness our pickup truck arrives.
Five other passengers from the fishing boat join me on mattresses on the back of the truck.
Clearly it is going to be a bumpy ride.
Introductions are made and we work out that none of us has tried the drug before.
There is an architect – a famous retired All Black – two schoolteachers and a fellow traveller whom I recognised from the naturists’ club in Ranui.
We are silent.
The nervousness is palpable.
We know that we are in for something that will take us out of our comfort zone.
My research has told of overwhelming misery – the certainty of suffering and in the depth of the experience – a feeling of panic and no way to escape – darkness and an absence of light.
The New Yorker told of tunnels of fire and people emerging out of the depths of nightmares.
How could something be so interesting and so bloody scary I wondered.
Too late now – as the farmhouse looms out of the darkness.