What you recognize when you miss carnival immensely

I like Friday and Monday the most. I love that Friday, it's a kind of secret evening that only insiders know about. And then on Monday, when you think you can't go on anymore but suddenly find yourself dancing in the street deep into the night. Accompanied by a brass band where the brass players are not quite on point, but who cares. You're dealing with a fanatic here. When it comes to carnival (or 'vastenavend', as they call it in Bergen op Zoom), I have a do-or-die mentality. I celebrate it for four weeks, every weekend and all days without holding back.

I miss it. But I really miss it a lot. And you recognize this if you miss it too.

1. To start with: the stale beer smell. That scent you thought you would never miss. Well, I actually miss that.

2. The selfie on Tuesday, to prove to your colleagues that you need three layers of foundation to look presentable. This is a bit like the last kilometers of a marathon: you do it on willpower.

3. That routine. In the first pre-weekend (I celebrate it for four weeks), you still allow yourself an hour to get dressed, but in those last days, you break record after record just to not miss a second.

4. The dancing in the street and that band after band joins in, turning it into an afterparty. One that was unplanned, but all the more delightful.

5. By the way, I've been wondering all month where I normally pay for it, because I still don't have a euro left. It might be in the paint pots, because paint is just ridiculously expensive. Just like celebrating carnival.

6. The little tip you still get from your father and mother. Not because you need it, but because it's just how it is.

7. Am I still sad on Sunday, because it's over in two days. When I'm standing in the Grote Markt on Tuesday, I'm grateful because I could use a day of rest. Although I could definitely go again that following Friday.

8. The joy when you find some loose tokens, after you've drunk all your money.

9. The clean toilet including toilet paper. It's a rarity, but I miss the feeling of suddenly finding such a clean space.

10. My friends from everywhere, who come home to celebrate together. One day having a really nice conversation that you don't just have during a casual catch-up, and the next afternoon a mad dash from pub to pub.

11. I always hear people complain about that endlessly long January and monstrous February. I never understood that, until now.

12. Eating a croquette sandwich with full dedication in the window outside at snackbar Het Singeltje or at a table at sandwich shop Het Vierde.

13. Those few hours between breakfast and two in the afternoon, when you don't have to do anything for yourself and can just watch bad Netflix movies. Suddenly you understand how soothing they are.

14. I don't miss being able to drink Schrobbelèr at all, but still have a drink every year where I always say: see you tomorrow. Everyone knows how badly this ends and yet they find it amusing. Strange.

15. Or that you suddenly find a stray twenty in your coat or bag. You never carry cash, but then you do.

16. And that you help a woman in need at the toilet with tissues because she forgot them. Actually, you are all sisters.

17. That's what I miss the most. Celebrating together, dancing together, being together, and forgetting everything together for a moment.

Can't wait until the whole gang is vaccinated with 11-11. That's going to be a night.