I was once again on the terrace of Café In de Waag on the Nieuwmarkt with my friends Marion and Anja. “You will never guess where I was last week with my sisters Els and Carolien,” I said. They had no idea. “I was at the Ziggo Dome for the very first time. It was a Sing-a-Long for the sixtieth anniversary of the Eurovision Song Contest. It was wonderful.” “Yuck! That you’re into that! Such bad taste,” Anja said.
“Well...,” Marion said. “I think I would have liked it too.” “Liked? It was fan-fucking-tastic. They were all there: Ruth Jacott, Esther Hart, Marga Bult, etc. Foreign guests were Sandra Kim, The Brotherhood of Men, and Johnny Logan. The next day we were hoarse from singing along,” I said. “I can imagine,” Marion said.
“But,” I said, “the prettiest woman was Sandra Reemer. She’s very good looking. But of course, she was born in 1950, just like I was...” “You are out of your mind,” Anja said. “All those stupid songs. So gay.” “Well,” I replied, “that’s so not true. I think my two sisters are crazier about Eurovision than I am. It was a family tradition. And you could stay up late to watch the points.
Iwas about ten years old and was trembling with anticipation in my pyjamas when a heavy voice said: ‘Ladies and gentlemen. We ask for your patience before watching the Eurovision Song Contest, as the connection with Italy has not established yet.’ It was that exciting. Italy was very far back then. I saw Teddy Scholten win with ‘Een beetje’ in 1959 in Cannes. She could sing the song one more time, so I could stay up even later.”
In 1970, I visited Barbados several times. A beautiful, but also rather strange island in the Caribbean. Strange, because it is so British. Officers in shorts, a lot of pubs. But the beaches are endless and beautiful. I was tanning in the sun with a couple from the USA, Kelly and Bob. They had just gotten married and were on their honeymoon on this lovely island. Bob was taking a bottle of Tia Maria from a cooler and was pouring us a cup. “Cheers,” I said. “To the newly-weds!” Alcohol in this heat quickly made us talkative. “I’m taking a day’s rest on the beach today. Bob wants to fuck me all the time,” Kelly said. “Sure,” Bob replied, “it’s the only thing she is good at.” Kelly slapped Bob and we had to laugh. “But,” I asked Kelly, “you must like ‘hanky panky’ too?” She nodded. From that moment on, we would use “hanky panky,” and I told them I only “hanky pankied” with guys.
Then, a beautiful small black boy walked in our direction with yellow swimming trunks. We exchanged a meaningful look. “Hello, my name is Ricardo. I’m from Barbados. I live here in Bridgetown. Can I join you?,” he asked. “Of course,” Bob said, and he poured him a cup of Tia Maria. “Kelly and I are going for a swim,” he said, and loosened the top of her bikini. She had beautiful breasts. “But Kelly has an off-day, remember,” I said. “So no ‘hanky panky’ in the water!”
“I’m not promising anything,” Bob replied. And with a roar of laughter they disappeared into the waves. It didn’t take long for Ricardo to be in my arms. He talked all the time, also about the fact that he just got a Eurovision cassette from his cousin in the UK. It was won by Ireland’s Dana that year. When Bob and Kelly came out of the water, they looked at us strangely, laughing. Because partly because of the Tia Maria we were singing “All kinds of everything.”
Snowdrops and daffodils / butterflies and trees / Sailboats and fishermen / things of the sea / Wishing-wells / Wedding bells / Early morning dew / All kinds of everything remind me of you // Summertime / wintertime / Spring and autumn too / Monday / Tuesday every day / I think of you / Sunshine and holidays / postcards to write / Budding trees / autumn leaves / A snowflake or two / All kinds of everything remind me of you
Bob and Kelly almost died laughing. We got another Tia Maria from Bob as a reward for singing. Ricardo whispered in my ear: “You like ‘hanky panky’ with me?” “Mmmmmm,” I replied. I already had made a dinner appointment with Bob and Kelly for that evening. “Just ask Ricardo is he wants to join us,” Kelly said. “And... no ‘hanky panky’!” We walked away laughing. Ricardo took my hand and led me into the dunes. I sat against a tree, and we undressed.
Ricardo gave a blowjob like an angel, and afterwards, he sat on top of me. I slid inside of him. How he did it exactly, I still don’t know, but he flipped around and pinched on top of me. I said: “If you go on like this, I’ll come.” But it was too late already. We sat there for a while, and Ricardo said, “I love ‘hanky panky’ with you.” And from that moment on we did it every time I was on Barbados.
Marion, Anja and I ordered our umpteenth glass of wine. “Oh well...,” Marion said, “this year the Eurovision was a disaster. Trijntje’s song was no good, and she looked ridiculous in that pant suit. And did you know that Trijntje did not want to take the suite home and offered it to the poor in Vienna. But... nobody wanted it.”
Marion and I started laughing. But Anja hissed in a serious tone: “Well, if you ask me, the entire Contest is a sissy event.”