Who could have imagined that a few months ago? That on a beautiful Saturday morning around ten o’clock I would be completely alone at the Hague Binnenhof? And not just a minute, but fifteen long minutes, while only occasionally a cyclist rolled from one gate to another. No security guards, no military police, no journalists, but above all: no tourists. Just no one at all. I sat down on the stairs of the Ridderzaal and only looked. To all those different architectural styles on, next to, through and among each other, which together form a strange, yet wonderful unity. And I mused. Thought of all those historical moments that have happened there over my face over many years. From the decapitation of Van Oldenbarnevelt just a meter away from me to the many turbulent protests in which the entire square was occupied in years when it was still allowed. And now there was only silence, complete silence. And a beautiful blue sky. And in the meantime I realized that we are now also writing history again. This period will also be filed in the archives. An Binnenhof without Japanese, Chinese and selfie sticks, with only one photographer who has the whole empire on her own on the most beautiful Saturday in the month