Old Water, New Water
Yesterday, I fulfilled a longtime promise to myself to visit a water of my youth….. or at least I think it was! I think in my blogs I have mentioned several times, that when in my teens I would sometimes go fish with my dad. We enjoyed our days out, especially in those years, when my mum was seriously ill and then later after she died, as it was an escape from all that was going on at home. Mostly I fished myself, but my Dad would take me places he had heard about at weekends. My Dad basically learned flyfishing from me ( usually it’s the other way round!) and it was a bit like the blind leading the blind at times. Neither of us really knew what we were doing and rarely caught anything, but it was nice being on a loch or the river bank somewhere.
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