Strandpaviljoen Grand Plage

We've arrived at the last beach club before the Pier, Strandpaviljoen Grand Plage. This is the 32nd beach club we visit together, and we're slowly making our way up north; arriving at the Pier is a bit of a milestone, but of course we could have been here much sooner had it not been for two lockdowns over the past one and a half year. At ten o'clock in the morning, the heat is not as oppressive as it will get later in the day. It's cloudy for now, but the clouds don't really cool things down, although it's nice that they offer some shade. It's been a strange spring, with temperatures going suddenly from remarkable low, to remarkably high. 

Our day so far has been a typical Thursday: after bringing Billie Stormzy's big sister to school, we spent a lazy morning in the courtyard, where we chatted with the neighbours. Billie Stormzy has been ill for a few days now, with what seems to be pseudocroup. Today, he seems to feel slightly better, having had a good night's sleep, not waking up before it was almost seven. Throughout the morning, however, he's mostly cheerful, playing with water and having fun with the neighbours. 

Now, we're at the beach for our weekly breakfast. Grand Plage offers a regular breakfast (€12,80) and a prosecco breakfast (17,80); judging from the menu, the latter is the same as the former, except for the addition of a glass of prosecco. Both come with coffee or tea and orange juice. I order the prosecco breakfast, because - why not? I also decide to take tea with my breakfast instead of coffee. 

Billie Stormzy is immediately off to the beach. Grand Plage has several play houses in front of it and he checks them out one by one, then walks back to the terraces and starts exploring the beach club. The young waiter and waitress seem to enjoy his company very much, chatting with him and having him follow them around as they walk and take orders. After having spent some time with them, he suddenly becomes shy and returns to me to sit on my lap. 

Breakfast is brought, but they've forgotten the prosecco; in fact, the waiter turns out to have taken my order as a regular breakfast: slices of ham, cheese, two slices of bread, a breadroll and a croissant, a boiled egg and some salad. He takes the entire breakfast back, then returns what he has just taken back together with a small bottle of prosecco - it really is the same breakfast with an additional glass of prosecco. Billie Stormzy at first seems interested in the egg, takes a few bits, then refuses more. I put the rest of the egg back on the plate and a while later he picks it up himself and puts it in his mouth - only to spit it out a bit later. He then wants me to put butter on a slice of bread, then on the breadroll, nibbles a bit on both but in the end doesn't eat much of it. Meanwhile, I finish the breakfast, mostly by myself. It tastes good - nothing special but given that it includes drinks it is actually good value for money at this stretch of the boulevard. 

Billie Stormzy, meanwhile, is getting more active, shifting on my lap and reaching for all kind of things from the table - until he loses his balance and falls to the floor. Both of us are a bit shocked by this. I pick him back up immediately, but he's crying. Luckily, there's a dummy in his bag, and once I've placed that in his mouth he is comforted and stops crying. After that, he just lies on my lap, his head resting on my chest, content to just be there for now. 

Having finished the breakast, I sip my prosecco while the clouds darken. There's clearly a shower coming, and before long, raindrops start to fall. The manager puts up a parasol to keep us dry. Grand Plage is, in the way it looks, a bit non-descript. The name seems fitting: this beach club is basically your regular grand café, but on the beach. Dominant colours are black, red and white, and the design is very middle of the road. The soundsystem offers easy listening: jazz standards, soft rock, and at one moment a spanish guitar piece. One song that stands out - but very much fits the rest of the playlist - is Katie Melua's Nine Million Bicycles - a song I've always liked a great deal.

After a while, Billie Stormzy gets more active again. He jumps off my lap and walks around the table for a bit. Then I tell him it's time to go; I pay and take him by the hand as we leave, walking across the terrace, up the stairs and along the boulevard towards where our bicycle is parked. Only when we get home, I realise they didn't serve the orange juice that was on the menu as part of the breakfast. 

Also on Breakfast at the Beach: Jump back in time to when I visited this place with Rihanna Gaga in 2014