M artha’s Vineyard is an island where presidents of Amer- ica take their summer holi- days. My friends spend every weekend there and want to move there per- manently from Connecticut. She is Danish, he is a fifth generation German-American. His name is Michael Stentz. They removed the“von”from their names during theWorld War I period of German hatred. That’s why they call their Labrador Hugo von Stentz.
It’s completely clear to me why they want to move to the island. I’m also a regular guest on the island, during all the seasons, so I al- so consider it my own - at least a little. If you wanted to describe this island in just a cou- ple of words, I think those words would be: noble remoteness. Another climate reigns here, another scent, another atmosphere. Here you have stepped into a special time. Dominating are the greens of oaks and lawns, and the blues of the ocean and lakes. That is except, of course, when the sun reflects off everything and converts every wave and leaf into a mirror.. I arrive by ferry from Cape Cod, a penin- sula to the northeast that resembles a Turk- ish slipper. I arrive at the ferry in Woods Hole at the last moment. I clamber onto the wet deck. It smells of gasoline. Houses on stilts float in the sun. Rocked by waves, the bell tolls on the bay, warning ships. When the wind grows cold, I head inside to eat clam chowder, a thick white soup of clams with potatoes. Many people from our region work on the ferry, Serbs, Montenegrins, Macedo- nians... There were so many of them that last summer they held a Serbian night in one of the restaurants. Girls and boys from Belgrade, Podgorica and Niš come to work in the sum- mer,whilesomeofthemmarryandstay.They like to complain about how boring they find it there during winter. They would rather go to NewYork.Ofcourse,theyarealwayscheered when they hear our language. It is unusu-
al how unpretentious and antiquated this place is, except during the fiercest season. Martha’s Vineyard hasn’t changed for years. In the town of Oak Bluffs they have an American-style movie theatre from 1950 and a covered carousel with wooden hors- es from 1903. The small town of Oak Bluffs is, if you ask me, the most beautiful place on the is- land and one of the prettiest towns in Amer- ica. It was after the Civil War that Method- ists built houses here of wooden lattice that are a child’s dream. It was initially construct- ed as a prayer camp. One prominent Meth- odist was General, later President, Ulysses S. Grant, a historical figure who had a fond- ness for alcohol. The house is surrounded by a wide lawn, with a gazebo at its centre, and from there the view encompasses the ocean and its waves. In Oak Bluffs is a pizzeria that’s famous for oysters, pizza and beer. There is a barrel full of peanuts that you are free to grab. The floor is covered with peanut shells. Accord- ing to the suits worn, it is not possible to tell whether a guest is a millionaire or a labour- er. A strange fusion of the world characteris- es this rich island, which has not lost its soul. From our base in Oak Bluffs we are constantly heading somewhere. We go to see where the coastal eagles nest. The peo- ple have made platforms for them on high masts. We go to the community of Vine- yard Haven, where it was illegal to sell al-
Čudna mešavina sveta karakteristična je za to bogato ostrvo, koje nije izgubilo dušu
A strange fusion of the world
characterises this rich island, which has not lost its soul
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