I Depart, the aftertalk

Two million people were ready again yesterday to tune in at five past half past eight on NPO 1. Ik Vertrek has been a magnet for us viewers for 15 years, as it appeals to everything: wanderlust, renovation drive, and a strong desire for adventure. And just like a good Hollywood movie, you already know the narrative principle in advance: introductions, buildup, friends' empathy, positive energy followed by a chain of setbacks, failures, unforeseen costs, and other things that make you cherish your warm couch again and be glad you didn't go.

Yesterday we kicked off with Carlos and Colinda. I briefly thought they were mother and son, but they were really just a man and woman with only four years age difference. Carlos and Colinda love to celebrate life with a drink (‘I have a tongue of leather’ and ‘I can't puff from thirst’) and a smoke. Their sons only want fries with mayonnaise, and Colinda has just accepted that. ‘He's 21 and never sick, so who am I to say anything about it?’

Colinda is definitely of the optimistic kind. When they are called by the Spanish police because their construction must be stopped immediately, she says: ‘There are no ribbons tied, so it will all work out.’ And when she looks out onto the rather neglected courtyard of their newly purchased house, she has ‘tears of joy’. I know women who would need to be on life support for less.

Also so cute: Colinda brought a whole bunch of flower bulbs to distribute to the people in the village. A neighbor further down the street wants nothing to do with it. Whether she should sweep a Jehovah's Witness off her doorstep, she retreats behind her thick door. She doesn't want those flower bulbs. Everything dies at her place, so no. Colinda persists. ‘Then you give it to someone else!’ She can't imagine that you can't be happy with a Dutch flower bulb. As she walks further down the street with Carlos, she says: ‘We really belong here now. The neighborhood has really embraced us.’

Colinda for president chapter 14: they go together to a supermarket with lots of Dutch goods. Smoked sausages, peas; everything is loaded up. ‘Can I make a Dutch pea soup for my neighbor?’ I find her so cute.

And so the fixed recipe goes completely off again. It's June, so opening in November should work, ten months later it's still not finished but we are already ten thousand euros over budget. Corona didn't help either. And their sons could also hope much less often than hoped. But when they are there, they go out to eat (indeed: fries) and the first guests come to sleep. That there is a pack of yeast instead of butter at breakfast, we forgive Carlos and Colinda. In fact, that's exactly why I started to love them.

Image: AVROTROS