that’s a great osterly brace, even if it wasnt carp or chub week, it’s a sweet end. love to see the tench, love to catch a tench. they’re extinct in france. they eat ’em.
if i had access to a private oxon lake i’d kill for it. good luck with that. i’m fed up just fishing shit pits with ring roads rushing by. i’m catching fish, but with the roar and flap of lorries it’s not tea, cake and nature. i’m still hoping my butcher will invite me soon to his wild pond. i went and bought another kilo of sausages i didnt need off him this evening just to keep my hand in, even asking him when we were going fishing. no time, he said. it’s the black pudding championships this weekend for christs sake.still, had another mid-20 yesterday so cant complain, 60 acres of water and i’m usually the only angler. i’m going further afield this year, the only way. up to the seine once the garden is underway, under control.
the rivers just opened for the new season, but they’re all flooded. walking those of a spring evening is the antidote to ring roads. wild streams, empty of fish but worth taking the cake.
Letter From France
19th March 2008