6 th June.

Wed. 6 th June.

Up at 8, caught up on notes.
Father complaining of stiffness, after sitting on hard clay bankside, yesterday.
They planned to go to Boston, originally I was to join them, but here was a chance of a day’s fishing on my own and I took it.
Weather is overcast with slight breeze but if I get a decent peg may turn out O.K.
Either way a few hours peace and quiet would be appreciated.

Was going to buy a new reel but that was mainly to provide an outfit for Pa, I still prefer to use the pole on these smaller ponds to pole would suffice for today.
Fishing by 10.30, water to myself, wind a little naughty but found a peg which was both sheltered and dry, the others being under a few inches of water.
I presume as a result of recent rainfall raising the water level.
Only trouble was there was little room for my legs so there I was sat in chair but having to adopt a cross-legged position to fit onto confines of a paving slab.

For company I had a noisy coot and a hawk hovering nearby, only interruption being a noisy world war two plane which flew over.
The wind continued to change direction and strength but never enough to make me consider moving.

Fish were small at first, a nuisance but good practise to sharpen reaction times.
Later a few larger fish put in an appearance but nothing to get excited about.

The main attraction of fishing on days like this is the solitude, peace and quiet, giving one the chance to switch off and be free from pressures of daily routine.
I used to fish big time, spending upwards of 16 hrs each day, 6 days per week.
Commitments and lifestyle changes forced my hobby to take a rear seat eventually becoming something I did only when on holiday.

Today, being on my own has shown me what I’ve been missing; a hobby which not only provides a challenge, demands a knowledge of water, fish habits and environment, but also provides an arena in which to adopt a contemplative state of mind.
The weather chilled own mid-afternoon and my finger ends became numb due to the repetitive actions combined with the cold.

I realised I’d become chilled to the bone so decided to call it a day.
As I packed up the last of my gear the wind dropped completely leaving the water with an unbroken mirror like appearance.
Sadly I’d broken my tackle down so I drove back to the hotel.
A large whisky and half an hour in a hot bath revived me.
I laid back, realising I’d got the best out of the day and that in itself had been an achievement.

My parents have just returned from traipsing around Boston market.
He has bought me a fixed spool reel complete with line for a fiver; in truth it will suffice.
After all, its not the equipment which makes the angler, it is the knowledge gained from each and every trip.

So here I am, sat in car in front of hotel, smoking last of baccy, drinking whisky waiting for the usual excellent evening meal served by the perfect host.
You may notice I never name either the host or hotel.
The place is fully booked year round, almost exclusively with return trade so publicity he needs not.
Besides which I really have turned into a selfish Old hector and refuse to risk any nuggets I may find along the pathways of my life.

I’ve already decided to renew my club membership, do some more angling and travelling.

The holiday may not have been the most active but I’ve been more active than at home.
It has given me the chance to think of my situation and thus help me make plans for my future, albeit only immediate.

I remember that this break is actually my Xmas present from my parents.
They decided that in return for having the hassle of actually thinking about a present, hounding it down, then going through the anxiety caused by wondering if it was,
Indeed after all what I would want.
He agreed to pay for the week and I agreed to forgo the pleasure of ripping paper from any potential mistakes in the guise of badly chosen gifts.
I thank my parents, Merry Xmas.

Ma gave me a present at teatime in the shape of a couple of painkillers.
One large one small, one of which was very powerful.
I soon forgot which one.
Reaching the bedroom I opted to take the small, tiny pill as apposed to the horse tablet of an alternative.

I was rewarded with 14 hours fucking great, undisturbed sleep.