Traveling Spike in The Netherlands

Towards the end of November TS arrived in the Netherlands from the U.K. by airmail. He was not amused because I got an earful of bloody this and that’s when I opened the envelope. “Whose sodding idea was it to send me in a bleeding bag?” Oh dear, TS was rather upset and as it’s clear that our little man has “issues” with being vertically challenged I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was not even a bag but just an envelope.

To calm him down I got him a comfy chair and a bottle of Heineken. After he’d finished the beer he asked for a glass of red wine with a drop of O neg. Unfortunately I was fresh out of O neg. but could manage a drop or two of A neg. which he liked: “ Ta luv, very tasty!” While Spike was amusing himself with a spot of reading, a little friend, Angel the poodle, was very interested in what Spike was doing.



After his spirits had been restored our little man got very curious : “Where the hell am I anyway?” Well TS, you were in Great Britain before and now you’re in the Netherlands. “Right, but where exactly?”

TS, you are here.

First Russia now the Netherlands. What is it with people sticking blooming onions on top of buildings?



After I had shown TS around Dinteloord, an over 400 years old little village half an hour’s drive south of Rotterdam, TS asked me if he could see some more of the Netherlands so I decided to take him to Rotterdam.



When we got there TS got all nostalgic. Apparently he and Dru had been to Rotterdam before. It was during the cutting a swath through Europe time when they were fleeing from Prague to Rotterdam with Dr. van Helsing, Dracula’s arch nemesusiss err memisusis, nemewhatsit, hot on their heels. They managed to give him the slip near Leiden and a few hours later they boarded a ship from the Holland America Line (HAL) here in Rotterdam. Four weeks later they arrived safe and sound in New York, although the same could not be said for their fellow passengers as Spike and Dru had felt a bit peckish during the trip.

TS gets all nostalgic in the Rotterdam harbour.



In the background the Erasmus bridge, nicknamed ‘the little swan’.



From 1891 to 1982 ships went from Rotterdam to America and back and as the HAL building is still here today I thought it would be fun to take TS there. Nowadays it’s a hotel/restaurant called New York.

TS admires the HAL building. “Cor, this brings back some memories, luv.”

After all the sightseeing TS confessed to being a bit thirsty so I suggested we’d treat ourselves to a nice cream tea. While we’re having our tea with scones, clotted cream, cucumber sandwiches, cakes, chocolates and what not, we also had a bit of a natter. It turned out that Spike and Dru had escaped Dr. van Helsing by the skin of their teeth and that to this day Spike gets the willies if someone as much as mentions the name van Helsing as the doc had come quite close to dusting both Spike and Drusilla. Note to self: better not mention your surname!

Cream tea! Thanks pet, it’s been ages since I had one of those.

After tea and sympathy we went to the cinema to see what was on.

Serenity? Where’s my Spike movie, Joss?



Then we went back to my place. While entering the living room TS spotted a vase with flowers on the side-table. “Flowering Snap-dragons this late in the year pet, bloody miracle, I’d say!” And while TS was admiring the Snap-dragons I overheard him reciting this little poem:

Snap-dragons

I have the streets in mind
And the yellow sun,
Lads you are left behind,
All that is done.

Snap-dragons on the wall
Were homely to see,
What was it after all
But vanity?

Snap-dragons on the wall
In my garden too,
There’s little to recall
For me and you.

Dead blossoms adrift
Are falling away,
You never gave me a gift
Would last for a day.

Swift is darkness – swift
The death of a flower,
I never gave you a gift
Would last for an hour.

Gone is the level light
From the wide lands,
I would be glad tonight
Of the touch of your hands.

TS admiring the Snap-dragons.

TS told me that this was the poem he read to Buffy on their last night together and she’d loved it. The poem is by Dorothy L. Sayers, who is better known for her Lord Peter Wimsey novels.

After the poem TS got all misty eyed so I thought I’d better distract him by showing him my house and garden. We went into my study and I showed him the BAPS list on my computer. I explained to him that BAPS stands for Bloody Awful Poet Society and that the list was in his honour. TS protested that he was a bad poet but I told him that he was a good man and that that was all that counted and besides we didn’t call ourselves Bloody Awful for nothing ;-). TS got misty eyed all over again. Luckily he then noticed the other Spike and was not amused to see that that ponce was much bigger than him. “Is he following me, because I swear I saw the blighter in England too!”



I also wanted him to meet my very own Spike!William so TS and I went in search of him. We found him in my bedroom together with his mum Delia. My Spikey and his mum are just as close as William and his mum were. TS was very impressed to meet my Spike. “Look at the fangs on this boy!”

TS meets Spike and his mum Delia.

TS played a while with Spikey and his mum and shortly before nightfall we went for a stroll in the garden. TS was very much taken with my Guirlande d’Amour roses which were still flowering their little hearts out even though it was late November. Their lovely scent filled the garden. “Lovely garden you got here, pet. Keen gardener are you?” I smiled and told him I had a nice surprise for him and there it was: tucked away at the bottom of the garden stood a lovely Tudor cottage. TS was speechless. After he had regained his composure he proceeded to tell me that his former nanny, nanny Pryce, used to live in a cottage just like this one and that he’d been in the habit of visiting her after her retirement on the second Sunday of every month. In fact he’d been to see her the day before he was turned.



Of course TS was curious to know who lived there so I told him that it was a sweet but rather eccentric old lady and that he would be staying with her as a special treat. I knocked on the door and introduced Spike to mrs C., the owner of the cottage. Mrs C. has the whole cottage furnished in the Victorian style and she prefers to live in exactly the same way the Victorians did which is highly unusual in this day and age. Traveling Spike could hardly believe his luck. His sweet face was effulgent when he told me how utterly amazed and happy he was to be able to live again the way he used to when he was still human. I gave him a kiss and told him to enjoy himself and smiling I made my way home knowing that for a short while at least TS would be as happy as the proverbial sandboy.

Sit yourself down by the fire dear boy and let’s have a nice cup of tea and a biscuit or two.

Ten days later TS was send on his way to Sweden after he’d been anaesthetized on his request with a bottle or two of the hard stuff (Dutch jenever) .


- Elizabet van Helsing