Bandu Beach

One of Billie Stormzy's favourite activities is roaming the streets of Scheveningen and the boulevard. Almost anytime, you can say "let's go outside, walking" and he'll shout "yes" enthusiastically, immediately running to his room to get his shoes so you can put them on. Once outside, he'll quickly make his way to the petting farm around the corner from where we live to say hi to the pigs, cows, sheep and goats there. He might play a bit in the playground in front of the petting farm, but he will always continue to the large field beyond, where there is a skating park, a trampoline and several other playthings. From there, he'll climb the stairs to a small retreat on an artificial with stone benches to sit on. The entire stretch of greenery, from the petting farm to the skating park, used to be a harbour and there is a bronze statue of a fisherman here to commemorate that. Descending the stairs on the other side, you end up on a busy street that he is eager to cross. From there, he will climb a steep set of stairs to cross the dune, and on the other side of that the boulevard is waiting, He'll mostly make his way on his own. All you have to do is to follow, and sometimes make sure he won't cross the street by himself. He might deviate a little every once in a while, but despite minor variations, this is now a daily routine. 

After crossing the dune here, the first beach club you'll find always used to be Strandpaviljoen Veronica. However, just before the beach clubs were allowed to open up their terraces, Veronica changed into Bandu Beach, a new addition to the places at the Scheveningen boulevard. Gone is the weird but charming mix of typically Dutch beach club and Thai ornaments that defined Veronica (a mix of Dutch regulars and Thai specials you could also find in its menu) . In its place, there is now a tropical vibe: straw parasols, and a logo sporting a jaguar lying under a coconut palm tree (I notice the B and B of Bandu Beach on this logo form the word 'boob' together with the two coconuts in between them and wonder if this is intentional).When I check my phone for wifi, I see that the hotspot here is still called "Veronica".

Given Billie Stormzy's tendency to wander off to the beach these days, I pick a place beyond the terraces: two beach chairs next to a small table on the sand, with a view on a small playground. It's only some five minutes past noon, but the place is packed and I'm lucky to find a free seat; in fact, as I sit down a man heading for the same set of chairs changes course with a disappointed look on his face. Billie Stormzy, who was following me when we entered the beach from the boulevard, is now trailing me. He's much more interested in the playground and the other kids playing here than sitting down next to me. Among the tables and chairs, waitresses are walking with bottles of champagne. There seems to be a celebratory mood around us.

It's very sunny - in fact, this is the first warm day in a long time, although this morning it was still raining when Billie Stormzy and I went grocery shopping. Then, we spent most of the rest of the morning in the little courtyard next to our house. One by one our neighbours joined us and I offered them tea or coffee while they played with Billie Stormzy. One of the things I really like about living where we do is that the neighbourhood is so mixed. While I've noticed that in the Netherlands, if you're middle class and have a young family, you tend to end up in suburbian neighbourhoods where almost everybody else is also a young middle class family, Scheveningen is very much a mixed bag. Our courtyard is a case in point: the seven houses around it are occupied by two families (us and another family,  the daughter of which has been Billie Stormzy's big sister's best friend for years now), three pensioners, a single man of my age, and a single woman of my age. I think it's really healthy for children to learn to interact with people from all walks of life and it's nice to see both Billie Stormzy and his sister have built up a good rapport with everyone living around our courtyard. The entire morning, he was chatting with a woman about her cat, playing football with another neighbour and bringing shells as present to yet another neighbour. It helps, of course, that everyboyd living here is really friendly. 

The one thing that bothers me about our current visits to beach clubs is that they all have great set breakfasts on their menus. I'm bummed that I'm missing out on all of that now, because the breakfasts only lasts until 12:00 - exactly the moment the beach clubs are allowed to open up. Instead, I pick the "12 O'Clock Fish", which promises a lobster soup, two shrimp croquettes, and a tuna salad  breadroll for 15 euros. The young waiter has some trouble finding it on his mobile device ("I'm sorry - it's my first day", he tells me). For Billie Stormzy and myself, I also order a bottled apple juice (3,90). I was looking for something more fresh - a smoothie, or even an orange juice). 

Billie Stormzy, meanwhile, is lying in the sand, watching the other kids. Every once in a while he'll go for a stroll, but he stays away from the playground itself. When the apple juice is brought, I call him, and he runs to me enthusiastically. He immediately climbs on my lap and we cuddle for a while - happy with the attention, he clings to me tightly while I hug him. He loves cuddling and physical attention - kisses, strokes over his head - and in general is a very sweet, affectionate child. The other day, when his sister was crying over something, he immediately came over and starting to stroke and kiss her, smiling timidly at us to check if he was doing it right. Just like his sister, he's got a very dashing smile - and just like her, he seems very aware of its effect on people, often flashing it when he's doing something naughty because he knows that with a smile like that you can get away with almost everything.  

We share the apple juice - or actually, he drinks most of it because he clearly loves it. In the meantime, my fish dish is brought, although 'dish' is a rather grand word. It's all time: a bit of soup in a glass that's so small that the spoon hardly fits in it, two croquet's not bigger than my thumb and a breadroll with tuna salad that fits in the palm of my hand. It's a bit of a shame because the soup, at least, is quite tasty, with lots of shrimp and lobster in it. Billie Stormzy enjoys it too, as I feed him the broth with my spoon. As we sit there enjoying the soup, a friend of Billie Stormzy's sister whom she knows from daycare - and therefore, Billie Stormzy also knows her and her younger brother - walk by. Behind them, their mother appears, with whom I'm in the parents' committee of the daycare, and she pats me on my shoulder by way of greeting. I'm slightly surprised: that kind of physical contact is almost not done anymore since the onset of the Covid-19 pandemic. To be honest, I don't mind, but I know several people who would, so it's a bold move. 

When we've finished the soup, I move on to the croquettes, but he's not interested in those so he climbs off my lap and leaves. He's not shown any sign that he's recognised the kids from his daycare, but now I see he's tracking them with his eyes and copying their moves, as he follows them to the playground. When she finally spots him, the girl is delighted to see him and runs to her mother to tell that Billie Stormzy and his sister are there, too. I tell her that, no, it's just the two of us. My partner and our daughter are still away for the weekend. "Ah, so you're having a men's weekend," the mother remarks. I must look somewhat bemused when she says that, because she quickly adds: "or probably nothing that wild?" Her daughter, meanwhile, is very disappointed that Billie Stormzy's sister is not here - "I wish she was," she exclaims loudly while her friend, with whom she was playing up until now stands next to her. However, she then proceeds to play with Billie Stormzy instead. He's been sitting on the top of a slide for a while now, and a queu of children has formed behind him. I get up to encourage him to slide down, but before I reach the playground, the girl has already managed to convince him to give it a go, so I can go back to my chair to finish my lunch.

The shrimp croquettes are not only tiny - it also seems the shrimps got lost on their way to the croquette. Had somebody told me this was a potatoe croquette, I'd not have doubted it. Luckily, after that the tuna salad breadroll is quite nice again: the salad is not too greasy and there's fresh tasting capers added, which gives it a nice sour flavour. I've also ordered an ice coffee with Bailey's, but I was told the coffee was currently being made so I'd have to wait a bit for that. When the coffee is brought, I notice that it was probably the ice that I had to wait for, as there is still remarkably little crushed ice floating around in it. I like the taste of ice coffee with Bailey's, though. 

In the meantime, dark clouds have gathered overhead. Billie Stormzy has fallen down the trampoline where he had joined a group of children, so I walk to the playground again and pick him up. He's crying and clearly getting tired. I pay and put him on my shoulders to walk back home. It's a short walk, but we don't make it on time. A few hundred meters from where we live, rain starts pouring down.