The boy became a sheikh

The Royal Academy of Arts is hosting an exhibition of Modern British sculpture. A marble male nude with a huge, cocked penis and knee-length balls catches the eye; then the famous bronze Sail of Henry Moore (Henry Moore, 1898-1986), with a round hole near the top.

There is also a female body, also the work of the famous Moore.

In the next room, a cube, two by two meters; a work composed of rotten beams, pieces of styrofoam, bricks, concrete blocks, an empty tin barrel, ropes, cardboard, an old mattress, a red plastic bin, parts of a quilt, itison, a leather cushion from an armchair, a vacuum cleaner tube, tinfoil... And that's all neatly folded into a cube, two by two.

Swarms of flies

The next sculpture; a big glass cage! Inside, a white plastic garden table, five chairs, swarms of dead and live flies. On the table was a charred chicken, five plates, an open bottle of red wine, two ketchup, three bottles of beer, an unfinished glass of red wine, a large grill, covered with ten pieces of kramenadli... Everything is blackened by countless flies.

I: modern British sculpture flows.

On a hanging rope; black, purple, blue, green cloth.

A gray barrel, discarded things, a notebook, a gun...

From the gilded ceiling of the Royal Academy of Arts, on a long nylon thread, hangs a halved pear with a red apple in it, screwed with a cruciform screw.

Next comes ten meters of snow-white stone...

…I soon came to Victoria Street. Opposite the Albert pub, House of Fraser department store. In it, one of the managers, Ivan Ilić, son of the former Titograd Television reporter, Drago Ilić.

- I came to London in the early nineties to improve my language, and then there was a break in Yugoslavia, so I stayed in London - says Ivan Ilić. - I married a Slovakian woman, had two sons, acquired two houses and am happy to spend the winter in my wife's Slovakia...

At Westminster

In a pub in Westminster, I watch a televised football match between Spain and Russia (I don't have money for Wimbledon). The pub is lovely; old photos, large rug; and: Guinness draft beer, which the English enjoy drinking.

One, during the second half, slid four large glasses, filled to the brim, to my table. He fills a glass at the bar, puts it on his table, lifts it to a certain place, then sits down and sips.

The Spanish are destroying the Russians! At each of their hits (and there were three of them), the whole pub jumped to its feet with squeals and screams!

And: I'm just getting ready to leave; the bartender, from Dubrovnik, approaches me and says:

- The manager of the pub will come now. He wants to meet you.

The manager arrives; a handshake.

- Welcome! I am Nino Pejović!

They clinked glasses as a sign of meeting.

He arrived in London in the nineties. Sporty build, cheerful. He tells me about life in London and is looking forward to going on vacation tomorrow, first to lovely Komiža on Vis, then to his native Montenegro.

- I also played football in the younger categories of Budućnosti from Podgorica - says Pejović. - But I left all that and came to London. It suits me well...

There were not many Montenegrin emigrants in England. They preferred, back in the middle of the XNUMXth century, to the United States of America, Canada, Latin America, Australia... Now there are more and more of them in London, especially younger ones.

Today, Tanja, the daughter of Pobjeda journalist Veš Adamović, is a doctor in the British metropolis.

Rade Marić, from Grbljan, owns a luxury car rental company. At one time, he drove a rich boy from home to school and back every day. The boy grew up to become the Sheikh of Bahrain. He likes football.

He wanted to host the Montenegrin football team.

Bizminsen Goran Brnović owns the Habitat chain; he opened a restaurant in the British capital. There is Bato Tomašević, then the hardworking Marko Dedvukaj; the inevitable Budva native, Vojo Liješević, worked for a long time in the iconic Savoy; also published the book From Saint Stephen to Savoy.

Montenegrin beauty Komsa, daughter of the famous painter Ac Prijić, is also in London. More graceful, ravishing…

The author is a journalist and writer