The time we spent in Tortuguero felt like no time at all – probably because it wasn’t really any time at all. The community around us seemed to live in a different dimension in that respect: one the one hand, I felt like they were in slow motion compared with us, but on the other, one of their days seemed like nothing in the grand scheme of things. They seemed to plod languorously by the flip-flopped, hammocked permanent residents like the turtles we saw sliding to the sea: I guess ‘permanent’ is the word. There was a reassuring constance about the place – a sense that the community would shift and change only superficially, its roots and trunk remaining firmly grounded and secure. Continue reading