Encounters, musings and dealerships – column

We had already played leapfrog a few times on the Pleijroute. The – estimated contemporary – on such a kind of double fat Harley from Japan and me. Whenever he overtook me, I was always amazed how the rather free-breathing, fat V-twin sounded so pitiful. There was something shrill, something tinny in his bark.

Of course there is little that can sound as beautiful as a late Shovel, but there was something cheap about this sound. Not pretty. In the meantime, De Biker, who alternated between 60 and more than 100, passed me again. The rider was wearing a cool USA biker jacket with what they apparently call a big 'patch' on the back. Something with a skull and embroidered roses? By way of explanation, "Bad Bones" was written on his back in chocolate letters. The coin fell. I had seen the man with the ratty ponytail wagging desperately perky from under his helmet. My reaction to the 'Bad Bones' was then: “It must be osteoarthritis at your age”.

Last week, on the only spring day of that week, I saw him again in full battle gear. I had a work meeting with an acquaintance who is going to open a motorcycle shop along the A2. In terms of bizznizz, he goes into a brave split, because he is an official Indian dealer, but just as seriously sells electric Energica motors from Italy. To round off the program downwards, he is thinking of scoring a dealership for the new Jawas (made in India) or van Mutt (assembled in IJsselstein).

The biker with the bad bones parked his steed. Looked around to see if he had enough audience and took off his helmet and his fingerless gloves. He sat down. The terrace girl came up to him with a smile. He beamed at her and spread his arms. "Child! You are beautiful! Get on the back of me and we'll ride towards the horizon!” At our table we looked at each other with an unspoken “Duh?”. Women can be very mean to each other. But my table companion's analysis was also strong: “He's brave. I guess the only hard thing about him is his back.” As contented passionate retirees, we raised our glasses to the point that it's very unromantic to keep your mirrored sunglasses on when you're trying to win over someone.

The terrace princess was indeed a beautiful, slender, but beautifully sculpted girl. She had dark straight hair, a touch of Orient in her face, and cheekbones that resembled chisels drenched in honey. She reminded me of the only Chang Jiang poster I have. She replied with a thick Eastern Bloc accent: “Sorry. No speak Dutch. You want to drink?”. Thus a romance was nipped in the bud. “One beer without alcohol please.” Oh yes, that lack of staff in the hospitality industry.

Not long ago we met a whole bunch of young Slovaks on a completely different terrace in Friesland. They had ended up there in the same way as the usual asylum seekers. When one of them happened to land in Harlingen and found work there, he took his smartphone just like any other country leaver and called his friends: “It's better here than at home. Come this way! There is work enough!” This is how we immediately tackle the entire asylum seekers problem: it is the smartphones that make it so busy here. 

The Slovak receptionist on a Wadden island also provided massages and was trained 'at home' as an operating room assistant or something like that. “Slovakia is no good for young people.” We exchanged telephone and e-mail addresses. He was looking for oak furniture and was very happy when we told him about the existence of thrift stores. His brother would look for old Jawas and other local sweets for us. He recently texted that he had located a rear wheel of a Zündapp Wehrmachtspann. Or something like this could cost € 100? And that's because in 'all those countries' there are a lot of villagers who don't want to come here. So they don't need smartphones. And where there are no PCs, tablets or whatever in the house.

So those people don't have the faintest idea of ​​'our' prices. Moreover: In Slovakia € 800 gross per month is still a very serious income. And for a Kazakhstani or Moldavian, even that 800 euros is a world amount. You almost buy a house for it.

It's all quite complicated