Take in the salt air
Took a ferry from Amsterdam CS to Velsen, and a bus to IJmuiden, in search of photographs and fresh fish.
Ended up on IJmuiden beach and at a fair on the promenade, awash with other day trippers.
Everything was ugly. Cheap ware on sale. Burger joints and football jerseys. People.
A seamen’s choir was murdering Irish traditionals (Fiddler’s Green, Black Velvet Band, translated in Dutch.). Hoompapa, hoompapa.
I picked a restaurant, ordered Redfish, ate and watched the other, mainly elderly, people there.
At the table behind me, a man was telling a story about a woman who had lost control and had let everything go. Couldn’t cope with anything. Hadn’t opened her mail, hadn’t paid any bills, or taxes until she was declared bankrupt.
A nasty scale stuck at the back of my throat. I ran for the bus, but the driver wouldn’t stop.
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