From landing hulking catfish on the Zambezi to talking tackle with Ted Hughes, COUNTRY LIFE’s fishing correspondent looks back on seven colourful decades

The mini digger we hired was bright yellow. It sounded like a bus and belched out black smoke. Phil, looking like he sat upon a child’s toy, aimed it down the garden after the hire company unloaded it

PAULA KERR slipped in through the back door of her granny’s house, trying not to make a sound. She could smell the dough and knew her granny did not like to be disturbed while she was mixing dough for

I WAS lonely. Papa was a preacher and we lived and travelled in a painted wooden wagon, pulled by Jessie, a large and docile shire horse. We had few possessions; there was no room for what Papa called

Coach Brian casts a line on a family trip to Northumberland. But did he follow his own advice when fishing a new venue, and did he catch?

WILL your grandad be coming to the Remembrance Day lunch, Joy?” Stella’s mum asked hopefully. “I was just –” “Mum!” Stella flashed her mother a warning look, then slid her eyes towards the stairs. We’