A peak date is one of the handful of nights when the city fills, and the only effect it has is that half the fee goes ahead on every booking, including same-day ones.
A few nights a year the city stops behaving normally. King's Day, Pride, the Amsterdam Dance Event, the stretch between Christmas and New Year, and the weeks when a large conference takes over the south of the city. Those are peak dates, and the house names them when asked.
One thing. Every booking on a peak date carries a deposit of half the fee, including the same-day hour from a returning client that would ordinarily be paid entirely at the door. That is the entire effect.
The fee. An hour on the night of a festival is EUR 180, exactly as it is on a wet Tuesday in February, and there is no surcharge attached to a date any more than there is one attached to an hour, as the night rate entry sets out. The arrival window of forty to sixty minutes does not change either, although the practical spread inside it runs later on a night when half the city is in the street.
Availability, sharply. A peak night is the one occasion where a late request and a specific therapist are genuinely hard to combine, and where the difference between writing at six in the evening and writing at one in the morning is the difference between a choice and whatever is left. Nothing about the house arrangement prevents a three in the morning booking on the last night of a festival; the roster simply fills earlier.
A peak date booking moves on the same terms as any other: once, free, more than twenty-four hours ahead, to a date within fourteen days. Moving it to another peak date is allowed and does nothing special. The booking terms hold the scale in full.
Two lines settle it: where the room is, and what time you want someone at the door. The answer comes back with a name, an arrival window and the whole figure, whatever the clock says.