Café Restaurant Vitesse

It's stormy as we walk along the Scheveningen Boulevard. It's grey and I have a headache too, which does not make this the best of days. Although Billy Stormzy sleeps pretty well, he still wakes up at least once a night and I often find it difficult to go back to sleep after I've fed him, so I'm often tired - and for me, bad headaches are one of the symptoms of fatigue. The key, of course, is to go to bed earlier, but sometimes I also just need my evenings to do some reading, finish a lecture or - as was the case yesterday - go to the gym for my twice-weekly routine.

Billy Stormzy is sleeping, and has been sleeping since we dropped off his sister at school - after which I had to go back home and back to school again because I forgot to give her her backpack. (Again: it's not the best of days). Now, however he wakes up and he's in a great mood when we settle in a comfy couch at Grand Café Vitesse. I take off his winter coat and we chat happily as I put him on the couch, and he does his morning gymnastics, waving his arms and feet and smiling his charming smile.

The friendly, chatty waitress takes my order. For breakfast, there is a choice between two set varieties: the Scheveningen Breakfast and the Dutch Breakfast. I pick the first (€10,50). Then, I prepare Billie Stormzy's bottle. He hasn't had milk since four o'clock this morning, and it's now approaching ten, so I'm assuming it's about time. He has little interest, however, in the milk I make him. He often neglects drinking milk during the day, while at night he can gulp down surprisingly large quantities.

As I wait for the breakfast, a man enters and I recognise a dad from Billy Stormzy's big sister's school - I just saw him this morning making paper hats for the kids, part of a celebration for the fact that today they've learned to write all the letters there are to learn. It's amazing how quick that went, actually, and she is constantly eager to use her new knowledge, reading everything she can (and trying to read everything she still cannot). Often, she'll read to Billy Stormzy, who will look on with his look of total admiration that he only gives to her - not just when she's reading, but basically when she's doing anything within his field of vision. The dad's here to work and waves at me cheerfully. After a bit he leaves again, 'up to his next project', as he announces, I have no idea what he's talking about.

Breakfast is served and it is good. Bacon and scrambled eggs, a large salmon club sandwich, a tiny bowl of yoghurt and granola and a croissant, accompanied by orange juice and tea. Normally, I am not a big fan of salmon, but served as it is now, embedded in tasty cucumber, tomato, fresh bread and spinach leaves, it is really rather good. As is the rest of the servings, which is not terribly different from other breakfasts around here, but quality-wise just a notch above some of the restaurants close by.

Vitesse has opted for the classic beach-club look: fishnets and lifebuoys on the ceiling, wooden whitewashed panels along the windows and gas-lit fireplaces. Further to the back, the feel is more of a chalet, with dark wooden furniture and what looks like oaken beams supporting the ceiling. While we were the fist guests when we entered, there is now an old and a young woman sitting at the other side of the restaurant. The waitress puts on some music after serving breakfast: moody, soulful soft-rock.

I've put Billy Stormzy on the couch again, placing my leg so that he won't be able to fall off. He's already getting a bit mobile, so this is quite necessary. He is interchangably active and relaxed, chilling with his fingers in his mouth (he has never gotten the hang of using a dummy and will comfort himself by sucking on any number of fingers instead) and then suddenly making noise and waving his arms and legs again.

Halfway through the breakfast, the waitress comes by to light the fireplace in front of our couch. Billy Stormzy clearly enjoys watching the flames after that. In general he is much more aware of what's going on around him than a while ago. When I'm finished, I have a chat with the waitress who really is very chatty - but not in a pushy way: she just clearly enjoys being around people and talking to them. Earlier, I saw her talking for a while to the two women, and now she's telling me about how it's probably so quiet because of the storm, how she's worried about the parasols outside and how they will fare in the storm, how happy she is that she's got a permanent contract at this restaurant and other matters. She does most of the talking, I nod and ask the occasional question. I feel somewhat refreshed by the breakfast, but my headache has not receded. I took a painkiller a while ago, but it's not working.

After a while, I pay and get up to leave. It's Wednesday and it's approaching 11:00. I have to walk past a bakery (google maps tells me there's one close by, we're out of bread and this week it's my turn to do the groceries - my partner and me alternate between cooking and doing the groceries and cleaning to make sure we each do the same amount of chores around the house), then I hope I can finish this blog while Billie Stormzy sleeps, try giving him a bottle of milk one more time before it's time to go and pick up the big girl from school.