Beachclub Atlantis

Yesterday, we suddenly realised that Billie Stormzy doesn’t have a passport yet – a bit of a problem, because soon we’re travelling to Germany for a short holiday abroad. The first in a very long time, so that explains why we’d completely overlooked this fact. Luckily, my partner managed to book a timeslot at one of The Hague Municipality registrar offices to arrange for one, so this morning after bringing his sister to school, Billie Stormzy and I went to get his passport picture taken. He was very suspicious of the strange man flashing bright lights at him, so he doesn’t look too happy on the picture, but at least his hair looks great, with an incredibly stylish quiff, reminiscent of George Michael in his 1980s Wham! heyday.

After having his picture taken, we cycle down to the beach. We’ve now made it so far up north, that we can take the final turn to the Scheveningen Boulevard, the one that brings us to the roundabout next to Carlton Beach Hotel. We park our bike in front of the flying saucer-like structure that was once going to be Hard Rock Café Scheveningen, before the Hard Rock Café chain pulled out of the project. We’re headed for Beachclub Atlantis. It’s cold and windy, despite the fact that we’re already in the second week of July. So cold and windy, actually, that it seems quite attractive to go inside. But instead, I find us a sheltered place outside.

Things are looking grim. After a week or so of the Netherlands celebrating that restrictions to prevent the spread of Covid-19 had all but gone, numbers startly to rise sharply. Right now, there is an almost ten-fold daily increase of reported cases of Corona and something of a panic has taken hold of the country. On Friday new measurements were announced (mostly targeted at the nightlife, which is where the enormous increase of cases took place for the largest part) and the extreme fringe groups that have been protesting the measurements ever since the first lockdown are getting louder again as well. Conspiracy theories abound: on the one side, there are people who think the anti-Covid19 measures have been too little too late and accuse the government of deliberately exposing young people to the virus to create herd immunity; on the other hand, people are promoting all kind of crazy ideas about how the Corona virus doesn’t really exist, or is no worse than the common cold but is used by the authorities to install some kind of dictatorial government. Unfortunately, what we are really dealing with, I think, is a government being overwhelmed by the challenges it is facing, and making things up as they go – sometimes getting them spectacularly wrong. And sometimes, whatever decision is taken, is going to be bad. Numbers are now as high as they were last December, when the strictest lockdown so far was announced, but to go back to much stricter measures now, when people had just felt the enormous relief of being promised a summer without almost any measures, would be impossible.

After being a bit quiet after the excitement of having his passport taken, Billie Stormzy is now very happy, all smiles and jumpiness. The moment we enter Atlantis’s terrace, he starts shouting “Eat! Eat!” I don’t think it’s because he’s particularly hungry – he’s had a good breakfast already, his usual porridge that I normally feed him immediately after he wakes up, often before anybody else in the house gets downstairs. It’s good to get that out of the way, before everything else that needs to be done, such as getting his sister ready for school, make her lunch, pack her bag. Today, it’s been a bit more elaborate: his big sister has her eighth birthday today, so there was singing and presents, all if which Billie Stormzy was only moderately impressed with.

A cheerful waiter comes and asks us if we want to drink or eat something. I tell him I’d like the set breakfast (€9,90). He suggest we might prefer to do that inside, since there is wind and there might be sand being blown around. I reply we should be fine – I don’t know, really, it seems weird to go inside a restaurant after such a long time; and with the numbers rising like they currently are, it also seems… maybe not the smartest thing to do. The couches that we’re sitting on are surrounded by glass windshields and it’s actually quite cosy here. Billie Stormzy enjoys jumping on them. They’re blue and white, like the entire beach club. Atlantis’s logo – a trident – can be seen everywhere and the whole thing is quite stylish.

Suddenly, the speaker boxes come to live and Dire Strait’s “Sultans of Swing” blasts over the terrace. We’re sitting right underneath one and the volume is rather high. Billie Stormzy starts dancing, after a moment of surprise. I consider moving away a bit from the speaker box, as it really is quite loud. “Sultan’s of Swing” is a rather bold choice, I think to myself. Most other beach clubs opt for the kind of chilled out house that goes so well with watching the waves break. Throughout our stay, the music of choice will remain this kind of soft rock.

In any case, the loud music is the thing that finally has me make up my mind and I go inside the restaurants. All doors are open and there are but very few people here, so it should be fine really. We sit down at a corner next to the bar. Inside, Atlantis looks very much like an old fashioned fish restaurant: wooden panels, fishnet decorations on the wall, lots of shells and other sea stuff. Breakfast is brought. Billie Stormzy enthusiastically shouts “’fast! ‘fast!” and immediately attacks the fried egg. He eats it entirely, then moves to the croissant which he also eats the larger part of, leaving the small slices of toast, slices of cheese and ham, and the slab of salmon for me. I think to myself I should have ordered the American pancakes offered here – it would have made for a nice change.

Billie Stormzy, meanwhile, has gotten rowdy. He wants to shake the pepper and salt mills as if they’re musical instruments, and knocks over my tea as he reaches for them. I quickly clean the table and finish the last bits of the breakfast. Then, I pay and it’s time to leave. When I walk back to our bike, Billie Stormzy decides he wants to go to the sea instead, repeatedly shouting “Feet! Sea!” Apparently he remembers yesterday’s visit to the beach with his mother, when he got to dip his feet in the water. It’s getting a bit late, though, and I don’t want to get home too late. So back on our bike it is, much to Billie Stormzy’s chagrin. But before we arrive home, he’s stopped crying already and has started to say that he wants his regular lunch: “Rice! Porridge!”