TROUT&SALMON

The voice of game-fishing since 1955

DO YOU WEAR FISHING GOGGLES?

Through them is how my wife thinks I see the world. What she means is that everything I do is governed by fishing. When she asks me if I know a place, let’s say Dumfries, I’ll say it’s on the River Nith.

“How am I supposed to know where that is?” she’ll respond.

I’ll reply, “Just head north up the A1, stop for fish-and-chips at Wetherby, which is on the Wharfe, cross the Nidd, Ure and Swale before a rest stop at Scotch Corner, then turn left and over the Greta, pass Cow Green up on the right, then down into the Eden Valley and on to Penrith —you know, where we get our sausages? —over the Eden at Carlisle and the Border Esk at Metal Bridge, then left and over the Annan, before reaching the Nith.”

By which time she’s abandoned me and is in the kitchen reaching for the pinot.

We visited family in Sussex recently and went to an antiques centre in Lewes. We like art and an eclectic mix of things, as well as recycling old stuff, and in this place over four floors, packed to the rafters, what did I come out with? Three little cellophane packets of dyed golden olive guinea fowl, £1 each. I was thrilled, my wife less so.

Is it just me or does every fly-tyer reach 55 and then suddenly take an interest in hunting for treasure. I've found myself following my wife into sewing and craft shops. Let me tell you, if a man walks into one alone, he takes his life into his hands. You may as we