We finally swam in the sea

Both of us later agree; the North Sea is cold.
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We came back from Amsterdam duly tired out from a month a travel, a weekend of partying and an afternoon of lugging bags and riding public transport. But with a trip to Rotterdam now planned for the following day, and a transatlantic plane trip for the following day, it seemed we might be facing our last chance to swim in the ocean before we left. Having bought nice new swimsuits before the trip, that seemed like a shame. Plus the weather seemed nice and we had about three hours before teatime.

Guy in a speedo.
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We got to the beach and picked out a spot to lay down our skimpy towels just in time for the clouds to roll in and cool the day down modestly, but there was just enough afternoon enjoyment in the air that we managed to get in the water and enjoy taking Dr. No-style series of photos of one another rising from the sea. Laying on the well groomed beach, we watched surfers and families criss-cross the sands before us along with a persistent seagull who liked the look of the kipnuggets and zalm brootje beach treats from the vendor booth (he got none).

It seemed we might be facing our last chance to swim in the ocean before we left.

Jason in a speedo.
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We finished the night with a video of some of the ballets Chuck wrote during his productive career, as performed by a Virginia dance company a few years ago, and later we watched the end of La Belle Helene along with a production documentary, concluding our opera appreciation agenda with Chuck and Kees. A dose of the laid-back Monday-nightlife in the Hague, with Guy beginning to fight off a cold, persuaded us to call it an early night, strolling home along a beautifully neon-lit Toussaintkade.