Caye Caulker is an island where the concept of time doesn’t mean a whole lot. This sleepy community takes things VERY easy, to be punctual is an abnormality it seemed. So much so that I was even told to slow down during what I considered a leisurely stroll down Main Street. It showed me that everybody’s at their own pace whilst running their own race. A beautiful sentiment except for when the laundry business you’ve given all your clothes to is still closed 6 hours after it’s listed opening time. I’ve waffled on enough so here’s a flick of a man riding through a makeshift graveyard. Draw your own thematic meanings of life, death, time and moving on.