What Brit hasn’t dreamt of an ‘East Coast Summer’? Immortalised and endlessly romanticised by TV, film and books, we all have visions of salt-whipped hair and skin, bountiful hydrangeas, overflowing lobster rolls, open-top Jeeps and – well, a steamy affair and a murder or two. Happily, I can confirm the similarities with its fictional representations end just shy of extra marital activities – for tourists at least – and that every romantic vision you’ve ever had about Massachusetts and Maine in the summer season are spot on.
Some logistics to get out the way first. We knew Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard were both priorities to visit but ferries that can accommodate vehicles between the islands and the mainland book up almost a year in advance, long before we confirmed our trip. So instead, we flew into JFK, spent a night in the glorious Martin Brudnitzki-designed Fifth Avenue Hotel (full of bold colours, plush curtains, moody corners and a very sexy bar) and spent the afternoon ticking off some of our favourite Manhattan spots, including a slice at Prince Street Pizza and dinner with friends at buzzing Cecchi’s in the West Village (the caviar and crisps are great, the martinis lethal). The next morning, we jetted to Nantucket via LaGuardia airport, arriving in around 30 minutes and hopping in a cab without issues to our first stop.
What Brit hasn’t dreamt of an ‘East Coast Summer’? Immortalised and endlessly romanticised by TV, film and books, we all have visions of salt-whipped hair and skin, bountiful hydrangeas, overflowing lobster rolls, open-top Jeeps and – well, a steamy affair and a murder or two. Happily, I can confirm the similarities with its fictional representations end just shy of extra marital activities – for tourists at least – and that every romantic vision you’ve ever had about Massachusetts and Maine in the summer season are spot on.
Some logistics to get out the way first. We knew Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard were both priorities to visit but ferries that can accommodate vehicles between the islands and the mainland book up almost a year in advance, long before we confirmed our trip. So instead, we flew into JFK, spent a night in the glorious Martin Brudnitzki-designed Fifth Avenue Hotel (full of bold colours, plush curtains, moody corners and a very sexy bar) and spent the afternoon ticking off some of our favourite Manhattan spots, including a slice at Prince Street Pizza and dinner with friends at buzzing Cecchi’s in the West Village (the caviar and crisps are great, the martinis lethal). The next morning, we jetted to Nantucket via LaGuardia airport, arriving in around 30 minutes and hopping in a cab without issues to our first stop.
Nantucket may be home to the US’s 1% but the island never once felt pretentious or showy; on the contrary, the most magical thing was the groups of children and teenagers who waved goodbye to their parents each morning and spent the days surfing and snacking without supervision, so safe and comfortable is the environment. The shopping is great too – pop-ups are taken each summer by cult brands like Staud, Hill House Home, Jenny Bird and DÔEN, plus, we became incredibly familiar with the endless tourist shops selling everything from very chic table linen to branded merch and fridge magnets.
Nantucket
Let’s cover the negatives first. Many of these locations are destinations where most holiday makers own or rent homes, and some of them also attract the unfathomably wealthy. Air Mail reported last month that nearly 10% of the US’s 900 billionaires have residences on the just 48 sq m of Nantucket. This means that hotel rooms are both hard to come by and not budget friendly. We stayed at the impossibly sweet Faraway, with its lush courtyard tucked in between buildings on the island’s most alluring shopping district. We loved the location but unless you can splurge on a big room or suite, I’d advise against it – our entry-level double made some of our gap year experiences feel up-market. The group has another hotel a mile or so away called The Beachside, which will absolutely be my first choice next time.
Pokey bedroom aside, there was nothing we didn’t fall head over heels for in Nantucket. Morning walks along cobbled streets lined with vintage Land Rovers, American flags and the east coast’s elite pouring out of coffee shops and Pilates classes were only made dreamier by sugared vanilla iced lattes and the most glorious climate – like London on the perfect June day. Our time was filled with lobster rolls from Walter’s Deli (the best we had until the end of our trip); ice cold oysters and frosé at the seriously cool Cisco Brewers, a buzzing venue that hosts food trucks and live music every afternoon; crispy fish sandwiches in the backyard of 167 Raw; hot honey crisps from Nantucket Crisps (trust me); and long bicycle rides to the other end of the island to visit Martha’s, an iconic store and restaurant. Each evening was ushered in at Sand Bar, a low-key but electric-atmosphere spot on Jetties Beach. Each dinner finished with the creamiest ice creams from The Juice Bar or Jack & Charlie’s, both of which have queues around the block at all hours.
