Monday was King’s Day, usually the biggest party in Amsterdam. This year, of course, we can’t take to the squares, canals, and streets to dance. So we celebrated Woningsdag. Some of our neighbors with a well-positioned garden terrace brought in a fun cover band and held a courtyard balcony festival. We don’t have a courtyard balcony (yet) but wore our orange outfits, grabbed plenty of mezcal palomas from the corner bar, and moved a desk so we could dance and hang out the window. Many windows and most balconies were occupied, and somehow a few dozen people managed to feel like a crowd.
After the planned party was over, somehow my barber showed up at another balcony with his full DJ rig and mixed dance tracks for a few hours. The party escalated, with people jumping from balcony to balcony. Until the police came; I guess all the young ready-to-party women and couples in the courtyard didn’t represent everyone on the block.
Meanwhile, in New Orleans, our friends were having withdrawal from the cancellation of Jazz Fest. So on Saturday, Bobby turned the porch of their new home into a neighborhood concert with three of the acts that haad been slated to play.
This weekend, the music would not stop for coronavirus.