Wij, Beatrix, Koningin der Nederlanden, etcetera, etcetera

's Gravenhage, or Den Haag as it is called on those rare occasions you find a Dutchman speak his own language, to everybody else, who is expected to speak “somekindofenglish,” The Netherland's second language (it is not Arab, as many worried neighbours and other assorted shopkeepers would like to believe), to those foreigners, Den Haag will be pronounced The Hague. The more exotic the Dutch accent, the more the somekindofanglicised version of the name of not our capital will sound like a kind of fish. On another occasion I will explain you more about psycho-onomatopoeia and Dutchmen looking at their breakfast in a funny way, when you find yourself in a North Sea resort where they serve hake. Drop me a mail, in case of emergency.

Which brings us to the court of our Queen. She resides in 's Gravenhage, as does Jan Pieter, the prime minister, but don't count on him in this little story. The Queen, however, is not like any other queen. Ours is known to like the modern arts; she once curated a show in the Stedelijk Museum of Amsterdam, and that was only a few weeks after – in the same museum - you could find Ursala Andress's dresses on display, also the one she wore in 8 1/2, Fellini's movie, when she stepped into the Fontana dei Trevi, and called out for 'Marcello.' You remember her?

And this brings me to the extraordinary collection of hats, of Wij Beatrix, Koningin der Nederlanden etcetera, etcetera. One day we will all die, except for Beatrix, of course, who as a head of state will directly ascend to heaven, as the after-life lounge of the illuminati is called. There she won't need her earthly hats, because those divine ones will be divine. Then the year is 2048, and to commemorate 400 years of Kingdom of the Netherlands etcetera, etcetera, a new museum will be opened, the museum of Beatrix Regina's hats.

That's only 41 years from now.

Only to tell you that it was her, excuse me, Her pleasure to send three messengers to the German capital. They presented themselves as Feedbacksociety, and they pronounced this name in such a joyfull manner that I understood field bag society. And in these days of project being the first word on every second citizin's lips, I thought that these young guys were on an everlasting mission. So I handed them my dictaphones and told them where to find the Treptow Flee Market. And this was Friday. And on Saturday they were back with more dictaphones and cassette recorders, and a cassette with Turkish music, total costs: 12 euro. I almost ate my hand.

But they had also enough minutes of freshly recorded sounds. Were you there last saturday? It was their first appearance in Berlin.

One of the girlfriends was called Wilhelmina. Not quite Wilhelmina, because she, Queen Wilhelmina, Beatrix grandmother, was a WinstonChurchill kind of woman, shorter, with two legs, and always wearing wintercoats of her husband who was twice her size. You don't want your daughter to look like that. That's why she opened the second opening of the foundtapesfoundsoundsfoundrecordersexhibition. Were you there when that happened? It was her first postpacketopening in Berlin.

Now they are back in the Hague, writing a postcard in a North Sea resort. Probably it will arive in some days. Probably it will have a funny smell.