Last Wednesday was Koninginnedag, also known as Queens Day, in Netherlands. Not to be confused though. Unlike what the name suggests, this is not when grown men put on dresses and make themselves look pretty. That’s known as Carnival.

No, this was the holiday to celebrate the Queen's birthday. And the whole country celebrates with one big street party. You can’t miss it unless you were deaf and colour blind. Deaf, because literally every spare corner in the city centre is turned into a makeshift stage with a DJ pumping out the popular Dutch club music which goes like 'boom, boom, boom'. And colour blind, because everyone wears Orange, the national colour. Step into any city centre and all you see is a swarm of undulating orange clothes, with a faint hint that there are people underneath those clothes.

Unfortunately, I didn't possess any orange clothing and decided to fill this gap in my wardrobe this year. Which should have been quite easy, considering that Queen's day is also the day the entire country turns into one big Flea market. People sell their old belongings (read: trash and junk) in roadside stalls. But the only orange clothing I could find was hats, bright orange wigs and long feathers that would make me look like an exotic stripper.

I walked around and continued searching. I had nearly given up hope, when I finally saw a man hawking orange shirts. He offered to sell me a shirt for 10 euros. So, I did what any other Dutch person would have done. I started haggling and made him a fair counter-offer of 50 cents.

After some hard negotiating, pretending to walk away, pleading bankruptcy, emptying pockets and looks of pity, I finally got the price down to 4 euros and 75 cents. Oh yeah! For that brief moment, I felt so Dutch. And now I had my orange shirt to look the part as well.