Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

OKAY… deep breath…

I’m leaving San Diego and returning to the UK.

There, it’s now a matter of public record.

In fact, I’m not only leaving San Diego… I’m leaving the TV career in the US and returning to writing – at The Herald in Plymouth.

Now those that know me, and my background, will also know the meaning in that statement.

Because, when I do eventually arrive back in the UK – and The Herald – my life will have gone full circle in just two years.

You see, I left my home country and my job of 13+ years at The Herald in May 2012 to move to Tijuana to be with my girlfriend.

That girlfriend is now my wife, and we’re returning to live and settle in the UK together.

“Love it,” a former (and soon to be current again) colleague emailed me recently.

“Go there, get the girl (defeat the baddy) and return home triumphant.”

Cue credits.

Yes, it is – and has been – like a film script.

Only there really wasn’t a baddy. At least, not yet.

For those that don’t know, my contract and job here in San Diego effectively ended last month with the announcement that U-T TV was being pulled off air.

I can’t really say too much about that.

Plug pulled on U-T TV

If I can coin a Crowded House lyric: “… it was good while it lasted, but now it has gone, so face up to what you have done”.

I’m having to leave the US as my visa is tied to the current job, and it’s non-transferable.

Once my employment ends in a couple of weeks, I have 30 days to leave the country.

Unfortunately, there’s no passing ‘go’ to collect $200.

We could move to Mexico but we figure that our lives will be better served, and more comfortable, in England.

Besides, Jacks still holds the belief that England is the “land of fairytales and castles,” and she misses seeing the wild ponies on the moor. (Strange but true).

Also true... I’ve honestly missed The Herald. I’ve missed the excitement and buzz of landing an ‘exclusive’ story.

I’ve missed the pride I felt in seeing my byline on the front page of my local paper.

I know only too well that certain people will see this move as a ‘fall from grace’.

I can almost hear those individuals now callously remarking “yeh, he thought he was ‘all that’ and now look at him”.

Well, more fool them.

I left to love a girl. That was all. And now, having won her heart and gained her hand in marriage, I’m the real winner.

Everything else… the TV anchorman job in San Diego, California; the apartment in ‘America’s ‘finest city’; the lovely life in the lovely climate… it was all an unexpected bonus.

For a time it was cool. And I mean REALLY cool.

I dared to dream, and now this next chapter is ours to write.

Sadly with any drastic change comes fall-out.

Since the announcement concerning U-T TV last month, Jacks and I have had to – piece-by-piece – rip apart the life we began building for ourselves here just 11 months ago.

I’m sitting on the floor writing this as we’ve just sold the computer desk and chair.

We’ve sold most of our (briefly) cherished wedding gifts, and thrown a lot of stuff in the trash.

I woke up last week and went to sit down to have breakfast, and then realized I’d sold the breakfast bar chairs the day before.

I constantly look up at the space on the wall where the clock used to be to check the time.

Jacks arrives home daily to ask um… where’s this or that…?

You get the picture.

It’s been a horrible and stressful time, day-after-day seeing another part of our home gone.

We’ve been sad, but we’ve always had our eyes wide open.

A colleague of mine who will remain nameless (okay, Cory) said to me a couple of weeks ago: “In the last two years have you ever really had it ‘easy?’ Really?”

“No,” I answered with a sigh.

“Well then, are you really surprised about your situation now?”

*cue raised eyebrows and nod of agreement.

Jeez, some people turn to booze and hard drugs in such situations.

I’ve run out of my Golden Virginia tobacco stash… and I hear that the share price of Starbucks has hit an all-time high.

In fact such has been my caffeine intake in the last month I’ve managed to earn a ‘gold’ member Starbucks loyalty card in just three weeks.

I’ve drunk so much coffee I swear I now sweat decaf.

Badge of honour - the Starbucks 'gold' card

The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster akin to a frikkin Martin Scorsese movie (minus the booze and hard drugs).

Oh, and of course I’m forgetting to mention the fact that at the same time as seeing out my notice at the U-T - and our notice on the apartment - we’re also in the process of applying for a ‘spouse’ visa to allow my other/better half to live with me in the UK.

You’d think it’d be a given that your ‘wife’ would have some sort of automatic entitlement… how wrong we were.

I’ll get to that in one of the next blogs. And believe me, there’s going to be a few.

So there it is. I’m sorry for the delay in posting a new blog.

So much has happened, and it’s been difficult to write about things and situations which have been evolving minute-by-minute.

Sometimes things don’t work out the way we ultimately plan them but hey, we don’t make the rules we just play the game.

 Twitter: @tristan_nichols

Caffeine club and the patter of tiny Royal feet

“GRANDE green tea frappuccino, no whip, six scoops macha, no classic syrup, non fat please…” asked my caffeine-starved cameraman at Starbucks earlier this week.

I literally stood back from the long queue in amazement.

“That’s some order… How do you even remember that?” I asked.

“Easy. It’s what I always have.”

Cue wide-eyed employee beckoning to me to step forward…

“Good morning sir, and what can I get for you…?”

“Wow… um… latte… please?” I mustered, stumbling for words.

That’s all I could muster.

Talk about being upstaged.

The words skipped off my colleague’s tongue like a young over-eager thespian with his first crack at the Broadway stage.

I could never match that. How could I?

I didn’t even know what the hell half his order was.

“I used to live with a Japanese guy who claimed that that was the closest thing to how they actually drink their green tea frappuccinos in Japan,” my colleague explained.

I still felt like I’d lost a rap battle with Eminem in front of a packed audience.

“The only thing I change is the milk,” he said nonchalantly.

“It’s like a thousand calories and I don’t want to drink all of my food for the day in one hit.”

By now my head was bowed and I felt embarrassed picking up my sad little latte from the counter.

You can say what you want about our American allies but you know, you have to appreciate their direct approach.

They know what they want. And if they want it, they’ll ask for it.

No matter how complicated it is.

He told me that he felt sure that to some, it was a “challenge”, and “part of the game” when going to Starbucks or another well-known coffee shop.

To confuse staff?!

“Maybe it’s a status thing?” he pondered.

We English are so reserved. We don’t want, or like, fuss.

That’s why over here in San Diego I start most questions… “Sorry to bother you, would you mind awfully…”

I can’t help it. I seem to turn my Englishness up to ‘11’ when I’m surrounded by Americans.

Personally, I’m non-fuss when it comes to ordering wine at a restaurant too.

I spend 10 minutes looking at the huge list of wines and then – more-often-than-not – ultimately ask for a glass of ‘house white’.

There’s been a lot of comedy moments in recent times in Starbucks coffee shops.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I have a fairly healthy caffeine addiction.

A little while ago, after ordering my drink the Starbucks staff member asked me for my name.

“Ahhhh…. Tristan,” I said glancing up while looking at my phone.

The result…

Kind of close I guess...

Earlier on this week we were in another Starbucks in Mission Valley. I ordered a venti caramel macchiato (yes, I was pushing the boat out on this particular day), and waited patiently sat at a table ready for my order to be handed over.

I mustn’t have heard my name being called out but I did, out of the corner of my eye, see my name on the side of a cup which a disheveled-looking woman had picked up and claimed.

It turned out that the woman in question was a tramp, or ‘bum’ as they’re called over here.

As she was walking out she glanced up, saw me looking at her and the aforementioned venti caramel macchiato, and quickly – and very obviously – licked the top of the lid to claim it.

I mean, she properly tongued the thing as I sat, open-mouth, in bewilderment.

I felt like shouting at her, but then spotted her T-shirt which said ‘Lifeguard’.

I became almost stricken with guilt that I might just verbally abuse a former lifesaver or hero.

So I let her have her moment of glory.

The cat got the cream. Bitch.

Another daily fascination over here right now is the imminent arrival of the ‘Royal’ baby.

Global coverage

“She’s hot,” is the reaction from most of my American friends and colleagues when we talk about Kate Middleton, or The Duchess of Cambridge, as she’s known.

Turning on the TV it’s bizarre to see every news crew in the world – or so it seems – camped outside the hospital waiting for news of the patter of tiny future king or queen feet.

CNN and other US networks keep jumping back to ‘live’ coverage of the scene – despite the fact that there is no update at all.

No 'news' is still 'news' I guess

News teams on standby

While of course Americans have their President, they do LOVE the Royal family and all the pomp and circumstance which goes along with having one.

I think it’s fair to say that many people here don’t really care for the Queen. They do however care for Prince William and Kate, and of course Prince Harry or the ‘rock star Royal’ as he’s known following his naked Las Vegas antics a little while ago.

One things for sure, with all the sleepless nights awaiting William and Kate, they won’t be seen queuing at Starbucks with the threat of their coffee cup being licked.

@tristan_nichols