Senior citizens sing happily in the restaurant of the Wienerhof hotel in Den Helder. At the Vals Plat choir, the atmosphere is paramount. You are welcome there without listening to music. Even if you sing out of tune and are embarrassed to sing, you can fully participate here. That suits this city. The people are direct and friendly. Den Helder is not elegant or posh, but raw, pure and lived-in.
The place is beautiful, bathed by the sea on three sides. Towns like Den Helder, which was heavily bombed, remind us that “beautiful” and “fun” are flexible concepts. The scars of war give depth to a place.
Cities and towns with scratches and dents have more to tell us than the luxurious and rich market towns, which are often so indifferent and meaningless. Den Helder has a soul. And a heart that has bled. For the Netherlands.
Rob Reebeen (55) lives in Spoorstraat, opposite the second-hand shop ‘Ella & Zoon’. As a native of Hagenees, he enjoys the peace and space. “I don’t want to go back to the West,” he says. “People here know each other and say hello to each other on the street.”
