Archive for December, 2015

In the car on the way to the river this afternoon Cher started giving me a hard time. She told me she was annoyed with me for being unfaithful to her and asked sarcastically if the woman I allegedly engaged in a bit of slap and tickle with last night was “worth it.” Then she announced that she was stronger now and was just going to get on with her life. Jesus! Give us a break! I´ve never even met the woman. Anyway, as it happens, last night I was at home watching the telly. Continue reading

Karaoke in Villafranco

Sunday is Karaoke night in Villafranco. It happens all year round. In the summer the man with the microphone and the machine takes all his kit outside and the punters, performing al fresco, create a din that I can hear from the dirt tracks leading through the campo along which the dogs and I are walking, fully a kilometer away. Continue reading

Can you get an indian summer in the middle of winter? Well, it certainly seems we have one here! Yesterday I was off galavanting on the river in shorts and crossing the river, as I usually do, in wearing a pair of neoprene diver´s boots. It seems quite odd to get away with this while much of Europe is, if not yet in the grip of winter, not far away.

At this time of year many fly fishermen switch to species like grayling and pike which don´t seem to mind the cold too much or which are not excluded by close season rules. There are no grayling in my neck of the woods although nearby reservoirs contain pike. What we do get, here in my local river, are gypsy barbel and common carp and both of these were in fine form yesterday.  Continue reading

As promised, here is Harry´s report on his latest exploits: Continue reading

If you an occasional visitor to this blog you may well recognise Harry Abbott. Harry is another fishing nut and we have fished together quite a few times over the years, mainly here in Andalucía but more recently in the UK.

It so happens that Harry is off adventuring in New Zealand as we speak and he has sent me a report of his adventures. I am hoping to reproduce it here on the blog over the next couple of days but, by way of a preamble, thought I might reproduce a little of what I wrote about him in my book “Dry River” which was published in the summer. It is worth repeating for the simple reason that some of Harry´s report makes reference to it.

So, just before I include an account of Harry´s most recent adventures in his own words, here are a few about Harry in mine….. Continue reading

An odd thing happened on the river yesterday when Leo and I paid it a visit. Up until this point it had been business as usual and we had managed to catch a couple of fish. Leo, over the years, has become an accomplished fisherman and he has little need for any instruction from me. We often fish a little way apart so as to allow ourselves our own “private” stretch of undisturbed water and, at the time that the odd thing happened, he was a couple of hundred metres upstream of me.

Initially I became aware of some commotion and then noticed a group of horse riders were moving downstream along the river margins. Some little way downstream of Leo they crossed the shallow river and then continued walking in my direction. Continue reading

One of the dafter ideas I have had in recent times is to propose a staff show to raise funds for the Red Cross. I had rather naively thought that we might get a few volunteers to come up with some acts but it seems that volunteers are thin on the ground. Nevertheless we soldiered on and put something together. My friend Dave Cale took on the music and the staff band was awesome. Apart from music the rest of the show consisted of me doing some standup.

This is not the first time I have had a crack at standup but the scarcity of other acts meant I had to do quite a lot of it – over an hour!

Thankfully it seemed to go OK and people had a good night.

For the hell of it I have included a short extract from the comedy script. The following lines are part of a dialogue between me and the priest that takes place in the confession box. I had just admitted to all kinds of inappropriate sexual fantasies involving the women in the parish.

Continue reading