Beachclub Twins

Despite the grey sky, it's actually quite warm when Billie Stormzy and I arrive at the Scheveningen Boulevard. I park our bicycle and we descend the stairs to Beachclub Twins, a large and striking beachclub at the busiest spot of the Scheveningen Boulevard. Striking, because it is almost completely dominated by the colours white and lilac - with wooden furniture and grey chairs and pillows here and there. And it's not just the colour scheme: Twins' look seems to be very thought-through, with a keen eye for detail: from the lamps made of clusters of wine bottles hanging from the ceiling, to the glass bottles with real flowers (purple, of course) on every table. The references to Moët & Chandon around the beach club make it clear what kind of place Twins aspires to be. 

There are gas fires at most of the low tables, but at one, right next to a large open doorway, the fire is not on: a good place to pick when you're with an enterprising one year old - one indeed, because last week we celebrated Billie Stormzy's first birthday. A quiet celebration: singing and gifts in the morning, then after his sister came out of school we picked up the little one from daycare and had a drink together at the beach. In a year's time, he has become a lively child. The kid undeniably has charisma, from his broad, charming smile to his determined attitude - sometimes a bit too determined, as he can get quickly frustrated if things don't go his way, but at the same time his determination also ensures that things often do go his way. There's been the first word already (although he hasn't added anything after that - "ball" seems to be enough for now), and he's definitely on his way to set his first steps, standing upright for seconds in a row and walking quite skillfully holding only one hand from an adult. 

A cheerful waitress - pleasant, professional - greets us at the door and tells me I can sit anywhere I want. No Corona forms are presented to me during our stay, another sign that the country is more and more prepared to just ignore the pandemic, despite rising numbers and government warnings for a second wave. I ask for a tea, after which she brings the menu. I am conflicted: the set breakfast is only for two people or more - and I don't think Billie Stormzy could already down a complete breakfast yet, which leaves the options of a bowl with yoghurt and granola or a combination of croissant, chocolate rol and bread with cheese. Or somehting from the lunch menu, which is also available from 9 o'clock onwards. I opt for the latter. There's a veggy roll that looks interesting, with spinach and honey (€11,90), so I take for that one. The waitress asks if I want cutlery for Billie Stormzy as well, but I tell her that's a bit too early yet. 

It's quiet but not empty at Twins. There's a group of women giggling like a bunch of young girls on the other side of the restaurant, a few guests on the terrace and a woman working on her laptop - not a guest, but a manager, I'm guessing. There's latin music on the sound system, then suddenly there is an unexpected jump to a Justin Timberlake song from his imperial phase (that stage in a pop artist's career where they can do no wrong, both commercially and creatively): "Lovestoned". Then it's back to Latin sounds again.

Billie Stormzy is staying close to me most of the times, leaning on me as we sit on the couch. That is just as well, because Twins' floor isn't exactly perfect for crawling around on: ruffled wood, with screws along the edges. He's just playing with a car that we took from home. Once and a while, he does go for a short crawl, but whenever I go and pick him up, he's content to stay with me again for a while. 

Food is brought. Nothing special at first sight - just two veggy rolls, just like it says on the menu: not too large and accompanied by a small salad. I at first feel like I might have made the wrong choice. They tast, however, very good - not a full frontal attack on your taste buds, but with a surprisingly good aftertaste. It is simply good food, made it seems, with the same eye for detail as the interior of Twins. One could maybe object to the price, but this is the more popular - and therefore expensive - part of the boulevard. 

The music has shifted again, and "Rythm Divine" - an old song by nineties one-and-a-bit hit wonder Enrique Iglesias - is playing. Billie Stormzy seems to like it. Standing next to me on the couch, holding on to the armrests, he's swaying to the music. I've finished my rolls and am now sipping my tea, holding my cup with one hand and steadying Billie Stormzy with the other. 

It's nice to have a quiet moment. The academic year has started and this week I've taught on campus for the first time in more than six months. That isn't to say things are back to normal. I was actually teaching in front of a camera that was live streaming my lecture to students watching online, while I was addressing some seven students who were with me in the lecture room. Our lecture rooms now have what they call a 'covid cap', meaning that the maximum number of students allowed into the rooms is far less than usual. As I was teaching, a pile of chairs and tables stood behind me, taped off with red and white tape. Interestingly enough, even with the covid cap, there would have been enough space for all students in this course, because the numbers have dramatically faltered because there are hardly any international students in Groningen right now - and exchange students have always accounted for a considerable number of students in our courses. Yet, most students still chose to follow the lecture online; whether this was because of concerns over the spread of the corona virus or because they feel it works just as well, I don't know. What I do now was that it was wonderful to have direct interaction with at least some students again. The challenge now lies in equally involving those watching online, but a chat function allowed me to ask questions to which they could respond in writing. 

Meanwhile, after last academic year's upheavals, our staff has gone through another major change of personal since the people we attracted last March were only with us temporally. We've now hired a few more longterm colleagues and attracted some temporal staff with larger assignments so that things will be, hopefully, more steady. For now, though, we have to navigate a second almost complete overhaul of staff in less than half a year time and since I have become the daily manager of our group, this comes with quite a workload for me right now. No wonder I am a bit tired and relishing this peaceful morning at the beach. 

It's a Wednesday, and in an hour or so, we have to pick up Billie Stormzy's big sister. School's out at 12:30 and I need to give Billie Stormzy his lunch before that so that I can put him to sleep after returning from school. So, it's time to go. I pay and we leave.

Also on Breakfast at the Beach: Jump back in time to when Rihanna Gaga and I visited this place in 2016