First off, I don’t know how to fish. I watched an episode of Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse fly fishing and the next day I bought 8 rods and 7 reels.
We were shortly heading out on a en mass family holiday and I had visions of the whole clan laughing, catching fish and drinking beer.
As it turned out my family weren’t quite as excited as I was.
Except Wee Girl, she couldn’t wait.
Before we left her Grandad asked what she would do if she caught a fish, she does squeal like a banshee if a bee comes anywhere near her. She thought for a second and then replied with conviction:
“I’ll chop it’s head off, cook it and then I’ll eat it”
That’s my girl!
So we finally made our moves and hit up a long, bumpy, long, very bumpy path and arrived at a French lake, in France, rods ready and hopes high.
It had been red hot all week, apparently not good for fishing, but today it was decidedly over cast and victory was ready to be hook, lined and sucked.
Wee Girl was armed with a small plastic chair and half a rod with no hook.
I was armed with a full rod with a fly on the end. That’s a pretend bug with a hook on, I know I’m really getting this.
After watching 2 YouTube videos on casting I was a pro; the line arching gracefully and continually catching on the foliage behind me.
After a few goes the line was hitting the water.
The realisation that there is a lot more to fly fishing than hitting the water came to me pretty early on.
Along with the strong possibility that there were no fish in this lake.
As well as noticing several shooting hides around the edge of the lake…
However none of this mattered as for 2 hours Wee Girl had a huge smile on her face.
At one point she came over with a flower and said:
“This is for you for being so kind for taking me missing, I love you!”
She’s never given me a flower before…
Our fishing fun was cut short by the teething anger of Wee Man but although we still have very little idea of what we are doing, Wee Girl and I will be fishing badly a lot more often.