Archive for September, 2017

I have walked many kilometres of riverbank of the Río Guadalhorce over the years and have a developed a pretty good feel for the river and, particularly, the stretch that runs closest to home. I fished there this afternoon and felt that I would trade miles of this river for just a couple of square metres a shallow run which tips into a deep pool.

If you look very carefully from an elevated bank beside this run you will soon make out the shapes of good fish here. They appear and disappear in the broken mirror of the surface. If you really want to make them out clearly and, in the process, punch a little too much out of the skyline above them out they will vanish. It is that simple. Continue reading

My brother Sean and my friend Mark McCann are my longest serving fishing buddies. We try to get together every year or two to wet a line together and sink a few pints each evening to celebrate success or commiserate failure, whichever is a suitable response to the events of the day. Continue reading

Yesterday I drove for an hour and a half to catch a single fish that would not have looked out of place in a can of sardines. The reservoir from which I extracted this modest organism was Embalse Zahara el Gastor and it lies close to the town of Zahara de la Sierra in Cádiz which is nestled in the hills of Andalucía in the province of Cádiz. Continue reading

I owe a big debt of gratitude to a friend of mine called Clare Morris who was a very inspiring Head of English at the school where I work. When I started out writing things of my own a few years ago I would run them by her and she would give me much more praise than my efforts deserved and in the process, crucially, she encouraged me to stick at it. The end result was a book, a dozen or so magazine articles and a number of comedy scripts which were delivered in the form of standup routines. Continue reading

My son Leo gave me a present of a nifty little hip flask and, a little while back, Johan Terblanche gave me a nice bottle of South African brandy. And so, I put two and two together and decided to pour what was left of the brandy into the hip flask and then go looking for something to celebrate.

What better to celebrate than the capture and release of a nice fish? Continue reading