This may be Noordwijk, or it may be Katwijk; these two seaside resorts are quite indistinguishable. I wonder how my life would have looked if I'd chosen a career as production worker in the peppermint or fish factories that Katwijk is known for, instead of foolishly playing white knight to an immigrant and embarking on a course that led me straight back into the nightmare village of my childhood. I suppose I would have stayed in the same place all my life, and Overschild would have been nothing but a strange name to me; days on the production line would have alternated with evenings on the beach, and I would never have learned a database language called "Progress". I'm still inclined to think it's Noordwijk. The landlady-slash-gallery owner of Warmond drove us there for an extended doggywalks on a beach the way I like beaches: windy, cool and empty.