Whether it's the trendy Hamptons or Martha's Vineyard, New Yorkers love to spend summer on nearby islands, writes Anna Mundow.
Never mind the traffic jams; the resentful locals; the certainty of being ripped-off; the vulgarity (Donald Trump goes there); the vile outbursts (who can forget the scene four years ago when publicist, Lizzie Grubman, screamed "f . . . you white trash!" as she ploughed her Mercedes SUV into pedestrians who were queuing outside a trendy club). New Yorkers - a certain stratum at least - will always migrate to the Hamptons.
Situated at the western tip of Long Island, encompassing the towns of Westhampton, Southampton, East Hampton and terminating in Montauk Point, this delicate finger of land jutting into the Atlantic Ocean that once supported only farmers and fishermen has mutated from a celebrity-studded beach resort into a synonym for excess. Renting a shorefront palace here from May to September can cost from $100,000 to $300,000. Potato fields now produce "MacMansions" that sell for up to $90 million. There are, however, enclaves within the Hamptons enclave: old-money towns like Amagansett have Shakespeare festivals and chamber music while Fire Island on Long Island's South Shore has long attracted gay vacationers.
New Yorkers love ferry rides and throughout the summer they stoically endure interminable quayside queues for boats sailing to Block Island, Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket. Lying 12 miles off the Rhode Island coast and measuring just 11 miles across, Block Island is less rarified than its famous Massachusetts neighbours but equally beautiful. It is also easier to reach and to afford with accommodation that ranges from majestic 19th and early 20th century hotels to B&Bs run by real families not professional "hosts".
But Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket still have the cachet, celebrity allure and - critically - shopping.
At the height of the season, you have to book a year in advance just to get your car on the ferry to either island, so when New Yorkers roll off the gangway at Vineyard Haven, Oak Bluffs or Nantucket harbour, they feel that they have already won a major battle.
Meanwhile many natives are going in the other direction. Summer rental costs, which rival those in the Hamptons, have turned Vineyard homeowners into seasonal refugees who rent out their houses and leave the island in order to make the equivalent of a year's salary in four months.
This summer's most unlikely phenomenon is surely that of know-it-all, have-it-all Manhattanites taking Lenten-like enlightenment vacations. From the famous Esalen compound at Big Sur, California to the annual Sonic Youth Surf and Chill Retreat at Montauk, Long Island, yoga is the main attraction for New Yorkers who drive Lexus SUVs with bumper stickers that say "The Best Things in Life . . . Aren't Things".
Veterans with a lot of meditation miles under their navels head to Kripalu in Lenox, Massachusetts, a yoga centre which has thrived for over 20 years despite the odd guru-misbehaviour scandal and which recently upgraded its accommodations and allowed coffee into its coffee bar. The nearby Canyon Ranch spa is popular for those seeking an additional physical - even surgical - form of uplift. (A hint: In Lenox, the women you see hiding their bruises behind dark glasses are not necessarily victims of domestic abuse). Even traditional resort establishments such as the Sagamore Hotel at Bolton Landing, New York now offer yoga weekends while Baron Baptiste, the "feel the burn" master runs workshops at Menla Mountain Retreat in the Catskills, formerly the "borscht belt".
The Hamptons and similar resorts are hardly endangered destinations. But tourism analysts report that this year an increasing number of New Yorkers will stray farther afield, most in search of better value. They mention Maine; Long Island's North Fork along the Hudson River Valley; Wisconsin's Lake Geneva. The Jersey shore is closer. But that is another story.
Next Tuesday Jane Walker and Chris Stephen assess the holiday habits of Madrid and Moscow
