"Let's go to the sea!" Billie Stormzy suddenly declared this morning. I had just brought his sister to school and was ready to go to the supermarket with him, when he decided he wanted to drive his kick scooter to the beach. So after quickly packing some stuff, we were off, the little one driving his kick scooter with ease as he glided down the street. I took the bicycle with me, because if we'd go to the beach this early, there might be time to go grocery shopping after that. And anyway, there's always a good chance he will tire of his kick scooter and I will have to carry it, so having the bicycle with us makes good sense even if there won't be any time.
There were lots of things to check out on the way to the beach. Cars - "I like blue cars, and red cars, and grey cars," Billie Stormzy told me - and bushes and trees and stopping lights. All in all, it took us a bit longer than 20 minutes before we were walking past the Kurhaus to the boulevard. That meant, however, that there were still few restaurants already open - and none that we hadn't visited before. Billie Stormzy, however, knew what we could do to pass the time: "Let's go to the Pier", he said and a little while later we were strolling down the mostly empty food court of the Scheveningen Pier. Loud music was playing, hi energy hits from a few years ago, and the lights of the pinball machines were flickering. Everything was still closed. At the end of the Pier, there is a square with more arcade machines. Billie Stormzy has developed a strong interest in a few racing games, since he saw his sister and her friend playing with them. They're content with just sitting in the elaborate racing machines, holding the steering wheel as if they're actually playing the game - but what they're really seeing is just a demo of what the game looks like. As with many things his sister does, Billie Stormzy has copied her and now he can't walk past the racing machines without climbing on them, after which he spends a long time turning the steering wheel and gazing at the images on the screen.
Then, it's off to the final destination of our visit to the Pier, which is also always the same: the restaurant De Pier Pannenkoeken, that can be reached by exiting the main hallway of De Pier, and crossing a bridge to the smaller one of two artificial islands on poles. There is a restaurant on the other, much bigger island as well, but that is closed almost always. At tfirst, we seem out of luck: De Pier Pannenkoeken is closed, much to Billie Stormzy's annoyance. When we turn to leave, however, personal arrives and they tell us they open at 10:00 - it's 10:15. The kitchen, though, doesn't open until 11, but that's fine. Billie Stormzy has much to enjoy himself with. In one of the corners there is a collection of toys, a miniature kitchen and other playthings.
Five years ago, when describing my visit to this place with Billie Stormzy's sister, I called the interior of De Pier Pannenkoeken "bland" and "mundane". Literally nothing has changed since then - and back then, that interior was, if I'm not mistaken, something inherited from the time before De Pier closed in 2013. Now, it's age is starting to show, although at first sight, everything looks fine. On closer inspection, though, one can see that corners of tables are slightly torn, bits of paint is peeling in hidden spots and things in general look just slightly worn. On the other hand, decorative plants and flowers (mostly plastic, but of very high quality) add colour and warmth to the place and the view - the round shape of the restaurant offers almost 180 degrees of sea, with waves rolling underneath you when you sit at a window - is, of course, stunning.
I order a set breakfast for €12,- and a tea. Billie Stormzy has gone to the play corner and is now busy with cars and the miniature kitchen. "Wasn't your wife here a while ago," the friendly waitress asks? I confirm and she says she recognised the child. Soon, tea and orange juice (which is included in the breakfast) are brought. Billie Stormzy drinks a bit of the orange juice, but is more interested in the toys, wich he spreads around the table close to the play corner at which we sit. When breakfast is brought, it very much mirrors the interior: adequate, but a bit bland. Billie Stormzy climbs on my lap and eats some bits - most of the croissant, the egg, and bits of bread. The breakfast comes with two slices of bread and a breadroll, as well as salmon, cheese, ham and plastic cups with honey and butter.
When he's finished, Billie Stormzy climbs the couch next to our table and walks up and down. He's in a very good mood: cheerful and very mobile. I read a little, but it soon is time for his afternoon nap, so I tell him to tidy up the toys. He picks a few of them up and brings them bag to the baskets in the play corner, while I help him. We're done quickly and pay - as always, he wants to be the one holding the card to the card reader, after which he doesn't want to let go of it anymore.
After this visit in October, we'll return to De Pier Pannenkoeken quite a few times after that: if I don't stop him, Billie Stormzy will make it the final destination of any walk we take: first to the petting farm around the corner from our house, then to the skate park next to it, crossing the dune to the boulevard, on to the Pier and ending here. It's the same with is mum. One notable time in December, the three of us - Billie Stormzy, his mum and me - come here with a friend of ours, an asylum seeker. This time, it's us rather than Billie Stormzy who has picked the place - deliberately so because I remember from previous visits that they never check for the QR code that confirms you're either vaccinated, recovered from Covid19, or recently tested negative for the corona virus. I'm actually developing the habit to avoid places where they do not check for QR codes - after all, the chance you become infected with the virus at such places is higher and the number of infections was rising exponentially once again since November - but now it comes handy, because our friend's QR code from his country of origin is not recognised in the Netherlands.
He's only recently arrived, after we helped him to leave his country by providing him with an invitation. In danger because his pro-LGBTQ+ activism, it had become necessary for him to flee and upon arrival in the Netherlands, he requested asylum. We visited him at the asylum seeker centre where he is currently staying last week - a dreary place, dirty, dilaplidated with the smell of cigarettes everywhere and heated slightly too warm which made it feel even more oppressive. While his big sister clearly felt a bit uncomfortable, and was somewhat shocked to see how people were living here, Billie Stormzy behaved like he always does on visits: shy at first, but soon enjoying himself, smiling at our friend's roommates and enjoying their attention. Those men clearly enjoyed his presence too, playing a bit with him while we drank tea with them and ate some soup that I had prepared the day before.
It was a rainy day, which made the atmosphere even more depressing. There was a real feeling that nobody seems to care anymore about the place - its library and other facilities are mostly closed, some buildings are off limits because their roofs have caved in, and attempts to lighten things up a bit - such as playgrounds and colourful signs - did not really help because it was so obvious they hadn't been taken care of for at least some years now. There is currently an enormous peak in refugee numbers coming to the Netherlands and the rest of Europe. Afghanistan having recently succumbed to the Taliban again is one reason - one of the men living in the same room as our friend was, in fact, an Afghan - but there are many others. I've read news reports that elsewhere in the Netherlands, facilities are so stretched in capacity that they are now hosting refugees in tents. For our friend personally, things are made even worse because he has a tendency to end up getting involved in conflicts, as had happened the day before our visit, which now led to him being expelled from the alylum seeker centre's grounds for a few hours.
Because of this, and because my daughter was clearly getting distressed, we soon left the place to take our friend to a nearby city. That was where we found out that his QR code did not work, but the owners of that café were friendly enough to let us stay when that happened. Now, he was staying with us during the 24 hours that he can stay away from his asylum seeker centre - he has to check in every moring at 11 - to get some rest from the place. We chatted with him while Billie Stormzy was doing his usual thing with the toys from the play corner. Suddenly, I realised he was out of sight, but I quickly found him hiding behind a pillar, next to a round table occupied by a couple who watched him with amusement. He was gazing fixatedly into a very bright lamp on the floor next tot he pillar ,emenating lightbeams of changing colour. The beams were so intense, that they blinded me, so I told Billie Stormzy this probably wasn't a good idea, before picking him up. He thought differently, and wanted to return to the lamp immediately, and protested loudly when I prevented him from doing so. After I warned him that I'd take him outside if he continued to make such a racket, he calmed down and returned to playing with the toys again.
As it was December, evening was already falling even though it was only half past four. The waitresses had warned us that there was only time for a short drink, since they had to close at five. After a period of optimism, with the lifting of all limitations towards the end of September, the Netherlands was once again heading towards a winter with stricter measures to stop the spread of the Corona virus, much to the chagrin of Billie Stormzy who clearly felt that our visit was much too short when we told him it was time to leave already after only half an hour. Refusing to tidy up his toys this time, this was left to my partner and me, after which we returned home for dinner.
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