Harbour Island.

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Harbour island is this rad little Bahamian island that’s only about 2 miles long, where everyone drives golf carts instead of cars, the sand is pink and the houses are guarded with white picket fences. Kind of like a disney country club but with rum and weed rather than giant mice and racists.

It’s a big money holiday haven and there’s obviously a divide between those with abramovich yachts named something like Jeffzilla or Knight Force and those with a wooden fishing boat – a case that isn’t helped by 14 year old yacht kids spewing on the street after the tequila shot their nanny bought them didn’t go down too well. They also have a huge street party every year called junkanoo where I met an American guy who said that he had flown down from Atlanta in his four seat private plane and that the Bahamas was awesome because you could stab somebody and wouldn’t get in any trouble, the dude was pretty fucked up.

The island still hasn’t really submitted to the big money aliens who inhabit it for the summer months though; the biggest club there has a basketball court doubling up as a dance-floor and is about the best place to spot the crack-head whose best friend cut his hand off while they were buzzing. Sadly I didn’t get a picture of him but there are some other pictures above.

words & photos Jamie Clifton.

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