TROUT & SALMON

The voice of game-fishing since 1955

IWAS RECENTLY DRIVING TO LOUGH ARROW ON the N61 from Roscommon to Boyle in Ireland’s Midlands.

It was unseasonably hot for Mayfly time —and Ireland for that matter. The previous day, my guide on Sheelin had dispensed with his hat and braved the sun-baked flat calm as if it were Benidorm in August, whereas I fished, or tried to, with collar up, hat, shades, and streaming eyes from the factor 50 I had plastered on. I will spare you the outcome.

Regardless, the drive to Lough Arrow was significant for two reasons. Firstly, because for 24 years I had vowed to fish the lough, ever since passing it on my way to a Home International match on Lower Lough Erne in 2000 alongside Rutland Water legend Dave Doherty. The only difference then was that the Mayfly Inn at Ballinafad, which overlooks Arrow and served a good pint, is now bypassed.

Secondly, and more to the point, the drive through the Irish heartlands was a reminder of just how unsullied Ireland remains. In stark contrast to the countryside in the UK, significant parts of Ireland seem untouched by man or machine. I am aware looks can be deceiving and that Ireland’s loughs and rivers still suffer from pollution, but where other than in Ireland can you still find hedgerows full of crocosmia or fields thick with wild yellow flag iris? For the latter —which grows from a rhizome —to fill whole fields must have taken hundreds of years of being left alone. Such