Uh-oh, my wife discovered eBay...

“ARE you ready…?” I ask for like the twenty-seventh time as we slowly head towards the door.

“Nearly, veeerrry nearly…” Jacks replies.

“Just wait 21, 20, no… 19 seconds…”

“Huh?”

“YES!” Cue Jacks punching air in triumphant fashion.

“I won!!!”

“Huh?!”

Yep, that was the moment last month when I inadvertently discovered my wife had firmly discovered eBay.

Dear lord.

The next week-and-a-half was a standout time in the Nichols casa in the 16 months since we moved to England.

You see, I now know that pairs of women’s knee-high boots, chunky warm jumpers and most long ‘dressy’ dresses just won’t fit through most front door letter box.

I know this for a fact.

And I know because every day for what seemed like an age I came home from work to find one, two, three… maybe five… Royal Mail ‘sorry we missed you’ cards posted through the door.

Some of these cards even mentioned the fact that ‘5’ items are “waiting for you”.

You've got (a lot of) mail

Wow.

It took maybe a week for me to determine the extent of my wife’s new found love of eBay.

And by that time we’d already been to the Royal Mail sorting office five or six times to pick up the various items of post. 

At one point the beleaguered-looking chap behind the counter stated that Jacks had set a “new record” with 36 items ready to pick up in one hit. I nearly had to rent a van.

Parcel force

You see, as I found in Mexico, it’s not easy to order something for delivery like that.

Tijuana didn’t - to my knowledge - boast a reliable Royal Mail equivalent. And then I was told things often go missing.

The alternative is to get something delivered to a friend across the border in the States who can then re-deliver. But of course it’s a ball-ache just for you to get your post.

So yes, as Jacks settles properly into English life, with its penchant for consumerism, I guess it was only a matter of time before one (wo)man’s junk became her treasure.

I’m as much to blame as anyone having amounted quite a sizeable collection of G1 Transformers toys during a nostalgic phase I went through, plus an absolute boat-load of All Saints gear.

Boy do we need a bigger house.

So I mentioned before that I’ve been a bit slack on the blogging front.

You see, when you’re living in a different country with different culture, food and people, it’s easy to feel inspired.

When you come back to everything you know it’s difficult to create that same level of creative spark.

Jacks and I have discussed switching up the blog so we shine a light on her English experiences but we’re not quite there yet… 16 months down the line.

So instead I guess it’s up to me to pick out the amusing bits of life here in England as we experience new things for the first time.

Like the time a couple of months ago when we went to see Jacks’ beloved ponies on Dartmoor – and how we go one stuck in the car.

I guess it’s also worth mentioning that the summer is now pretty much ‘over’ in England – aside from some miracle occurrence.

Did we see 30 degrees in Plymouth? Did we f*ck.

Did Jacks actually feel warm at all this summer? Nope.

This is pretty summer defined in Plymouth (and indeed the UK as a whole): 

We did buy a frikkin 14ft-long sea kayak though (ahem... as a tool to make us make the most of the outdoors regardless of the weather...)

Oh, readers interested in hearing how our chili crop is going this year will be pleased to see that our jalapenos are finally producing! And there’s more to come.

From this...

To this!

Beauties!

Right, we’re off to explore and find inspiration!

Greetings peeps! Play nice ;-) x

@tristan_nichols

Oh, no it isn’t… oh, yes it is - the panto!

OH, NO it isn’t… oh, yes it is.

It’s a blog about the annual British pantomime – or ‘panto’ for short.

This past weekend saw my Mexican wife’s latest induction to her new life in England.

For those of you in the US and overseas, the dictionary definition of pantomime is this: ‘a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy and is based on a fairy tale or nursery story, usually produced around Christmas’.

After sitting through the hour-and-a-half performance at Plymouth’s Theatre Royal, Jacky’s definition of a pantomime is simply this: ‘It’s crazy’.

The Christmas panto is a British tradition. It’s as British as you can get – and its roots reportedly go all the way back to the 16^th century.

Men dress up as women, women dress up as men, they sing songs, tell rude jokes and just have a laugh.

It’s bonkers, bizarre and quite brilliant in its silliness.

I hadn’t been to the panto since my mum won tickets in a newspaper competition when I was about seven or eight.

And boy did I NOT notice the sexual innuendos back then.

The kids love the audience participation, and the colour and ridiculousness of it all – not least the songs and chorus of ‘he’s behind you… oh no he isn’t, oh yes he is…’ lines.

The adults love the clever (but silly) jokes, the double entendres, the forgotten lines and mistakes, and the occasional glances from the stars referencing how ridiculous it all is.

I couldn’t help but glance over at Jacks throughout the whole ordeal, sorry show, to check that she wasn’t horrified by what she was seeing.

The expressions on her face spoke volumes of her enjoyment of the show.

Panto selfie

Huge credit has got to go to the entertainer (and true star of the show) Bobby Davro who – on greeting the audience and revealing how happy he was to be back in Plymouth, went on to he’s the only entertainer of his age left who “isn’t in prison” (referencing the ongoing sexual abuse scandals rocking the British entertainment industry).

Fair point.

And if the panto itself wasn’t crazy enough, the annual panto after show party made for a pretty wild night.

Here, on the top floor of the venue, saw a mix of panto stars and theatre employees, footballers, journalists and city businessmen – with a large shot of something very alcoholic.

“You’re hungover…?” friends asked us the morning after the show with a look of equal part disbelief and horror.

“You went to a kids pantomime and got drunk?!”

“Have you been to a panto recently…? Wow…” I smirked.

“Times have changed…”

A journalist colleague of mine told me recently that one year one of the previous stars of the Plymouth panto asked if he could do his interview “lying down”.

The interview just so happened to take place the morning after the panto party.

Anyhow, watching the Christmas pantomime is another tick on the list.

Now we’re set for our first Christmas together in the UK.

Oh, yes it is… it’s CHRISTMAS!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

Finding a cure for homesickness

BUY five chili plants; six tins of chipotle; three or four hot chili sauces; some Mexican candy; six different varieties of tortillas; download some Luis Miguel and Shakira; accept gifts of dried chilis from friends; place a few trinkets and photographs around the house; add a sprinkling of love, and what do you get…?

Some respite from a bout of homesickness.

Admittedly they’re small steps, but I’m trying my best to provide a suitable Latin-tinged home from home for my wife.

How do you cure homesickness? Is there a cure?!

I’ve googled it, mentioned it to friends and pondered their responses, and bought enough Mexican produce to feed a small hungry army.

But still, occasionally – and not so obvious that you’d really notice – I catch a faint glimmer of sadness and longing in my wife’s eyes.

It’s easy to forget that we’re now nearly 5,500 miles away from everyone she knows – and everything she’s ever known.

You can largely replicate some degree of surroundings, materials and possessions, but it will never be quite the same.

Yes, the weather – not least the beautiful summer we’ve been experiencing in the UK – has helped, but overall life is vastly different to life in Tijuana. Obviously.

Plymouth's playground - not too shabby

A few immediate observations from Jacks about life/people in the UK:

a). Most British food tastes ‘sweet’ compare to Mexican cuisine;

b). Girls here have bigger boobs than girls in the US;

c). Girls try to look as brown (tanned) as possible here – mostly forgetting that their orange faces don’t match their white necks or indeed the rest of their pale bodies.

Is my wife happy here in Plymouth? Thankfully so.

She actually now finds herself getting annoyed with people asking if she “likes” it here, before then stating “it won’t last”.

It takes someone else’s view of something you’ve always known to open your eyes to it.

“You have the city, the moors (and of course the ponies), and the sea… right here,” Jacks says almost proudly.

“What more do you need?”

That aside, there are moments when you can’t help but contemplate the sacrifice of love.

Do first impressions last? I do hope so.

Skype, Facebook and email help the world to connect. These of course allow Jacks the opportunity to speak/communicate with her family and friends in Mexico.

But sadly you have to be ‘connected’ to enable you to have that connection.

Sadly most members of her family (including her mum and dad) are not currently in a position to accommodate this.

And this is why I’m asking you… people of the world… do you have any ideas to combat homesickness?

I have to admit – living in Tijuana – had it not been for the close proximity and relative ease of access to the US – and ultimately Western ways – I would have been pulling my hair out if I had spent much longer in Mexico.

A year was truly a long time for me with limited funds, no firm job prospect, no real friends, the temptation to spend what I didn’t have, and the built-in Western desire to want for the latest iPhone or gadget.

I loved the experience, the food, the feeling of comfort and safety within a family, and the home from home, but culturally it was hard (not forgetting the fact that my grasp of the Spanish language was far from ideal).

And now we have the reverse (although Jacks is admittedly coming from what is actually defined as a ‘Third World’ country, to a ‘First World’ country).

We’ve been back in the UK for just over three months now and I think it’s fair to say that while we are settling in, the last two years of experiences haven’t really sunk in yet.

What a whirlwind! Did that all really just happen????

Did we actually live in Tijuana?! Was I actually a TV anchorman in San Diego?! Did we get married?! Did we really have a dinner meeting with John Travolta’s older brother to discuss a Lifetime movie about our bizarre experiences as a couple?? (Yes… that’s for another blog post…)

Wowzers.

Sitting here now in the kitchen of our Victorian home in Plymouth, I’m not sure it ever will really sink in.

Life again, here in the UK is new, exciting and different.

We’re at that stage now where we have to order just about everything on a Chinese takeaway menu so Jacks can ascertain what she does and doesn’t like.

“When you buy Chinese food here does it come with a big chili as a free side order?”

“Not in a millions years sweetheart…”

It’s the same drill with most things. Everything’s the ‘same same but different’.

Yes, you try explaining what 'knickerbocker glory ice cream' really is...

Thankfully Jacks is working now and she’s earning money, thus allowing her to enjoy the finer (*cough*) aspects of English life – like Primark.

'Primarni'

Words simply cannot describe the look on Jacks’ face when she emerged from Primark with a bundle of clothes and shoes so large it near enough took two of us to haul it back to the car.

A visit this weekend to the South Devon Chili Farm also provided plenty of smiles and laughter.

The farm boasts 150 different types of chili – some big, some small, some colourful, most likely violent to a Brit boy’s delicate palate.

And Jacks was beyond happy.

Happy wife = happy life

Chili farm selfie

With another two plants purchased yesterday I’m contemplating either building a home extension to house them, or indeed setting up a farm myself.

Home grown

We currently have 60+ chilis ripening in the kitchen.

My eyes are watering at the prospect.

Jacks’ are widening with glee.

Yes, it’s taken a little whole for me to write a blog update.

No excuses really, we’re just finding our way, settling in and experiencing our new life, continuing to live the dream.

Thanks for reading.

Suggestions welcome people!

Tristan

Oh by the way… the chili plants are called Tatanka, Pachito, Pita, Little Princess and Rainbow if you were wondering… :-)

Follow me: @tristan_nichols