De Beren

Until today, I thought I knew De Beren was a snackbar. Well, what do I know? I've walked past it many times, but never visited, and somehow I reached that conclusion and never cared to check. It just goes to show how much knowledge really is just interpretation - and often misinterpretation. And here's another thing I did not know, until I checked for the website: it's a chain, with restaurants all over the Netherlands. And, judging from the website, they pretty much look the same. Wooden furniture, a cosy felling almost remniscent of a holiday park and bears everywhere. I used to hitch hike a lot when I was younger, and I cannot count how often I've been at roadside restaurants all through Europe - and the better ones look pretty much like De Beren does. That doesn't only go for the look, I soon discover: it's true for the menu, too. Hearty, no-nonsense food: sandwiches, steaks, omelettes, burgers; coffee, tea and cake.

Having visited every eatery at the southern end, we've walked northwards. De Beren is the first eatery with a view on the waves that's open this morning. It's a beautiful day: the sky is watery blue and the low winter sun casts long shadows over boulevard and beach. Billie Stormzy is sleeping in his pram as we walk along the cluster of bronze statues that marks the beginning of the busier part of the Scheveningen boulevard, along which a string of restaurants, places like Sea Life and the Kurhaus, some shops and a casino can be found. We're close to the Pier now, too, but I'm not sure whether we will actually visit some of the places there this winter. The idea is to visit permanent eateries along the beach during the winter, and concentrate on the beach clubs in the summer. And there's so many restaurants already around the Kurhaus, that I think that'll keep us busy until March, when the beach clubs return.

They're working on the boulevard: part of it is closed off with fences. The beach and the boulevard are quite busy, however, with many people having come out to enjoy the sun. The first thing that strikes me about De Beren is that it is not very pram (and weelchair!) friendly. You can only reach it through its terraces, which are located on several platforms connected by steep stairs. Luckily, Billie Stormzy's pram is a bit of a tank: sturdily built, there are few terrains you cannot negotiate with it (which came in handy when we lived in Tunisia and it was still Rihanna Gaga's). He does wake up, however, as I climb the stairs dragging the pram, each step that I take causing a bit of a bump.


De Beren's crew - one man and one woman - are getting the place ready for the day. They're cleaning tables, putting menus on the table and shifting chairs. Inside, there is a couple sitting on one table, but apart from that the place is empty. There's old pop and rock classics playing on the sound system and decoration-wise, De Beren is a bit of a riot. There's the christmas decoratio, of course (and lots of it!) but apart from that, there's all kinds of stuff that I suppose are there all through the year. Old radios, crates with old beer bottles, antique curiosa - and statues of sailors. Lots of statues of sailors, as well as a few paraphernalia that have to do with Scheveningen. Take those away, as well as the view on the sea, and I would say this place would look more like something you could find all over the Dutch countryside.

Billie Stormzy, already somewhat awake because of the stairs, is not going back to sleep. There's the music, of course. In general, he reacts quite strongly to impressions. Lights, music and crowd noises can easily be too much for him and he'll get anxious and tense if they last too long. So I pick him up and put him on my lap. Immediately, he's content again. We chat a little and I order a latte macchiato and a 'farmer's omelette': an omelette containing vegetables, bacon, potatoes and mushrooms (€9). De Beren opens at 10:00, but doesn't have a breakfast: however, some of its lunch dishes, such as this omelette, seem to make a good breakfast anyway.

My orders arrive quickly. First the latte macchiato, and soon afterwards the omelette. With Billie Stormzy on my lap, I eat my omelette, carefully trying not drop crumbs on his head. Because he cannot sit straight himself, I sometimes have to use my elbows to keep him in place, but in general I've become quite good at negotiating eating and having him on my lap at the same time. 

The 'farmer's omelette' is quite good, albeit on the greasy side (a problem that a lot of restaurants have when it comes to omelettes). It's tasty, but heavy - and the potatoes are difficult to find. The coffee is of the same quality: good enough, but nothing special. However, the atmosphere at De Beren is pleasant enough. The waiter is extremely friendly and outgoing without being pushy. And I'm really enjoying the music. All kinds of old hits from the sixties, seventies and eighties. I love pop music and pop music is, in my opinion, mostly something of the here and now. That's what I like about it. Despite all protestations of being more edgy and experimental than 'mainstream' music, I've always felt that what's called alternative or 'authentic' rock music is mostly just really boring - four white guys with guitars singing their heart out and that gets old real quick. Pop music, on the other hand, is much more diverse, and more novel - by nature, because it needs to grab listeners' attention, that's what it's about. What is fascinating, however, about listening to old pop songs, is that you get glimpses of what was once new and cutting edge and novel and you're getting glimpses, too, of directions that pop music could have gone into but didn't go into. Or you can imagine what a certain song written in a typical pop structure but played with instruments and production methods belonging to a bygone era would sound like if it were produced today. The discovery of the day is an upbeat, weird novelty song with a chorus mentioning a 'strange apparatus'. I will look it up when I'm home and it'll turn out to be "An Englishman in New York (Strange Apparatus)" by Godley & Creme. No, it's not a Sting cover (it's from 1979), but I'm excited by how fresh it sounds - fresh in an outdated way, but still.

When I'm finished, I pay and put Billie Stormzy back into his winter coat. He starts complaining, but as soon as I've put him in his pram and start walking, he's quiet again. Once more, I'm amazed at how quiet and sweet he is: he never cries for long and it's always easy to soothe him. Even today, when he's a bit more whiney because he had a vaccination yesterday, he's basically just very gentle and easygoing. I carefully descend the stairs, letting the pram down step by step, then walk back towards the statues.