My head hurts. My heart hurts. Life is currently one big tangle that I'm attempting to sort out. This one will take some patience and a bit of cursing though- there are bits of shot dotted around, a broken float, impressively random knots, part of a tree. Actually the entire last fortnight has been a bit of a tangle.
I did finally fish up in Walthamstow, however, where my brother now lives. I'm glad I took the Monday off on this wild weekend. In search of a hangover cure, I went fishing with Vince, a plasterer by trade but also a closet angling traditionalist. First job was to locate both a hair of the dog and his fishing tackle. I love the old stuff- and I fished with the favourite float rod of Vince's late friend Simon Payne, to honour a lost angler:
I was treated to a proper little mystery tour by Vince, complete with flooding sites and the ghosts of old tackle shops. It's urban up in the 'Stow' but there's actually a surprising amount of fishing to be had. Epping Forest is a beautiful surprise, like a separate little world away from the concrete.
Most of the lakes are free fishing with an EA license and there are a fair few different species. Like I said though, Vince is something of a traditionalist. The type of guy who sighs a little at the thought of carp lakes and bite alarms. And he didn't just talk the talk, bringing a whicker creel, cane rod and an old Mitchell reel. Tench are his absolute favourite fish, so that was what we decided to fish for.
We baited up several spots and did a little tour of the lake, but perhaps it was just one of those days when the fish aren't interested. All of the catching and best tench were confined to stories and some laid back chat over beer. And let's face it, sometimes beer and good company are as much part of the fishing as the actual casting and catching. In fact, I've already vowed to get back in the autumn because Vince has yet an unfulfilled ambition to catch a big pike.
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