Beachclub Culpepper

 Today took off with a series of false starts. Around 9:00, I rang up one of the beach clubs a bit further away to see if they were open - this late in the season, one cannot really count on that. They said they were, but when we got ready to leave, I discovered the bicycle had a flat tire. Luckily Billie Stormzy, who normally doesn't like a change of plans at all, didn't mind to get in the stroller and with a brisk pace, we were soon at the northern beaches. I remembered from last week that  Strandtent Down Under Beach was open quite early already, but when we arrived there, the waitress told me the kitchen wouldn't open until eleven. Billie Stormzy, meanwhile had decided that he wanted to push his own stroller, so soon we were walking along the path connecting the beach clubs. He then spotted the playground of Buiten, and started to climb the wooden structure there. Remembering from last week that their latte macchiato was quite good, I decided to have one to spend the time a bit before we would try and have breakfast somewhere again. 

Billie Stormzy was quite active the whole time. He first climbed around for a while, playing with his toy duck and sheep - his two favourite stuffed animals that he always has to have with him when he goes to sleep, and which are sources of great comfort for him at other times as well. Then he pushed around his stroller again, until my latte macchiato was brought and we both sat down at one of the large tables in front of Buiten. While he played with his cars, I read a little in a book called The Gun and the Olive Branch an account of the Israeli-Palestinian struggle and its sources; it's a definitely not a cheerful read: published in 1977 it shows that cycles of violence have been repeating themselves since the early twentieth century in saddenly similar patterns. What makes it an even more depressing book is that, reading it in 2021, you know that these patterns have just continued since then, creating an ever worse and more hopeless situation. Support for the Palestinian cause goes back at least two generations: my grandparents, parents and uncles and aunts have always been vocal - some of them very vocal - about the injustices committed against the Palestinian people, and it is interesting to read about the historical contexts within which their awareness of these injustices came about. I visited Palestine myself in 1995, together with Billie Stormzy's mother - just after the murder of Rabin, this was still a time of hope, with the ink of the Oslo agreements not completely dry yet - although in the many conversations we had with Palestinians, one also could sense that their feeling of humiliation after decades of Israeli occupation and land grabbing would not just go away. 

My reading was interrupted by Billie Stormzy, who decided it was time to jump on the table and start running around on it. I tried to persuade him to take his car to Buiten's terraces, but he preferred to stay on the table, driving his cars off its edge, then climbing down to pick them up, only to climb on the table again. This ended when he told he he needed to go to the toilet. He sometimes likes to try out the toilet - so far, he has hardly ever managed to also really use it, but it's a good way to get him familiar with doing so. We walked to the toilets and he sat down on one for a while, before we left again. I paid for my latte and given that it was now 11 o'clock, I decided that it was safe to try for breakfast again. 

Walking towards the Scheveningen Boulevard, Beachclub Culpepper is the first beach club we haven't been to so far that seems open for breakfast. "No problem, my chef's just arrived!" the waiter tells me when I ask him if it is possible to eat something. It's a bit windy, so we sit down in a quiet corner. I ask for a tea (€2,95), preferably English Breakfast. The waiter tells me he thinks he only has Earl Grey, and although I don't particularly like Earl Grey (I prefer black teas like Darjeeling and Ceylon), I tell him that's okay, because I also don't feel like hot water with mint leaves or ginger, the other options. For Billie Stormzy, I order a "Jungle Juice" smoothie (€5,75 - containing mango, pineapple and cocos). When the drinks are brought, the waiter proudly announces that he did manage to find a "breakfast melange". I thank him and order pancakes (€9,50) as well. By now, I am rather hungry, but Culpepper's breakfast menu is quite limited, and I feel more like pancakes than the other options (an acai bowl, yoghurt with granola, or French toast)

Billie Stormzy is interested in the juice, but refuses to just drink it through the straw that came with it. Instead, he dips the straw in the juice, then licks the juice from the straw. This is bound to become a mess, and after a few minutes of him dripping the smoothie everywhere, I put the glass back on the table. Billie Stormzy proceeds with taking the bamboo straw apart. The pancakes are brought relatively quickly: three small, cake-like pancakes sprinkled with powdered sugar, black berries and strawberries, and a little bowl of syrup to put on them. We share them equally between us each taking a bite after the other. It's a nice way to start the day, although shared like this, it is a rather small breakfast. 

Culpepper has looked the way it does since I moved to Scheveningen in 2012. Its primary colours are red and white, and it is decorated to look like a cozy, friendly place to eat, with lots of pillows, whitewashed furniture and nice little touches like standing tables made out of kettle drums. There's loungy music on the stereo system: waves of synthesizer chords over laidback hiphop beats. It's clear Billie Stormzy is getting drowsy; after finishing the pancakes, he lets me spoonfeed the smoothie to him, which is easy because it is quite thick with the mango juice. He tells me that his is also how they do it at his daycare - apparently referring to a fruit sauce that they give him there every day. Now that he can express himself quite well, he often gives us little bits of information about his days at his daycare like this. 

"Shall we go home?" I propose when he's done with the smoothie and I have drunk what's left over of it and my tea. "First pay!" he replies. I know that he will want to do so himself. Indeed, when we enter the beach club he takes my card from my hand and I have to pick him up so that he can hold it in front of the card reader. The waiter is clearly impressed and afterwards, waves goodbye to Billie Stormzy when we leave.

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