It was a tongue-in-cheek Facebook post sent on a bored Sunday afternoon which Ron Toekook thought might appeal to a handful of friends.
It suggested a Brexit Day beach party in a Dutch seaside village near where he lives.
“I wasn’t exactly serious,” he says today from his home city of Beverwijk. “I just liked this idea of looking across the North Sea and waving goodbye to a dear friend, wishing it luck, perhaps hoping it comes back one day.”
He went to bed that evening and forgot about the post. He attended a funeral on Monday and did not check his account properly again until later that afternoon. When he did so, he was astonished by what he saw.
More than 40,000 people across Europe had expressed an interest in attending his party. Some 5,000 had signed up to say they would be there. His inbox was inundated with messages from people asking how they could buy tickets.
“I was not expecting this,” he tells The Independent. “I was thinking, ‘Well, what do I do now?’ And then I thought, ‘You have to make the party happen, of course’.”
In the five days since, the 52-year-old film and TV producer has kick-started a logistical operation which will, to all intents and purposes, see this spontaneous one-day festival created from scratch.
He has brought the local mayor and town council on board, identified – and been granted permission to use – a stretch of beach at Wijk aan Zee village; and started contacting stage-builders, bands and food trucks. Sponsors are already committing, he says. As per his original post, he wants it to be a truly continental affair: French wine, German beer, and lots of British food.
“I’m thinking fish and chips, pies, that sort of thing,” he says. “Then, when the sun sets, there’ll be fireworks so maybe they can be seen over in England.”
When we speak, he is in the middle of creating a website and exploring ticketing options: a figure of 2,000 has roughly been settled on. “It may be free or there may be a small price,” he says. “But it’s not about making money, it’s about making sure we know how many people to expect.”
It won’t be easy to organise for 31 October, he admits – “but, then, neither will Brexit itself”. Well, touché.
“I don’t say this will be a celebration because it is too melancholic,” says Ron, who is working with a friend, Marcel Korder, 51, to make it happen. “I am sad about Brexit actually. But the UK is a friend and it should have a leaving party. You have made a decision which perhaps we would not have made ourselves – perhaps we cannot understand this decision – but it is your right to make it and, now, as a friend, we wish you well.”
It is not the only Brexit Day party planned on the continent as it happens. Such events have started to crop up in various places. “There’s one in Luxembourg,” says Ron. “But I think we have the ideal location. What are they going to wave to in Luxembourg? The Belgian border?”
As for Ron himself, how does he think Brexit will turn out?
There is a pause of apparent Dutch politeness. “I think we can call this a… brave decision,” he says. “In the Netherlands, we love British culture. We grow up with your music, your TV, your football. So it hurts that you are leaving.”
He considers this diplomatically. “But possibly not as much as it will end up hurting you,” he says.
