I'd finished one year at 6th form college in Godalming and had blown my first year exams, wasn't enthusiastic about the 2nd year ahead, didn't want to go to college so my drive wasn't the best. Eventually I had a series of bust ups with the head of year and we, as football slang has it, parted company by mutual consent. And I had a part time job in a local department store that I could go full time with which was very tempting. Close to the same time, I stopped fishing. How stupid was that? I had so much more time through not having to do college work in the evenings any longer, and I well remember that I was a bit puzzled one time convinced that there was something I was supposed to be doing and it took me some time to adjust. So I might have used that time by going to the fishing tackle shop and updating my bait and tackle since all of a sudden I had much more money than I had ever had in my life.
Instead I started going to the pub, and it was many years later when I was working with a mate on a sweltering clear day as we walked past a lake at lunchtime and could observe the large carp swimming close to the surface that I mentioned that this was a perfect day for tackle soaking with a floating crust. He had no clue that I liked piscatorial pursuits and I'd forgotten, but he promised he'd sort out a day for us to go. He did, though when he looked at my bait and tackle, he suggested I chucked a lot of it out as it was too decrepit, too rubbish or just plain illegal.
So a trip to a fishing tackle shop was timetabled when we went and I shelled out an eye-watering quantity of wedge on bait and tackle as well as a rod licence and permits. We had a fine day and I recaptured the bug again, and my chum asked if I fancied hopping off for some weekend tackle soaking. I thought that was a super idea and he booked for us to travel down and fish on the Avon near Christchurch and we went down on the Friday night, checked into the guest house and got an early night and we were up at a horrible hour which came as a jolt to me for a Saturday, but by the time we got to the river, dug in, got set up I had recovered myself and had a brilliant day, altering bait and tackle set up as the fancy took me.
It was interesting in the evening when we went into the town for a drink, as it became evident how vital tackle dangling and the Avon is to the area. Many of the boozers had pictures of fishing scenes, stuffed prize pike and copies of the fishing newspapers along with the rest of the newspapers.
On the Sunday we went back to the fishing tackle shop and restocked bait and tackle that had been lost or used during the Saturday and had another lovely day by the river. I even made friends with a water rat that was interested my maggots and I kept bunging him a few and he came quite close.
It was a fantastic getaway and I got home utterly shattered and retired for an early sleep and a decision to do it again as early as I could.
20101216
Instead I started going to the pub, and it was many years later when I was working with a mate on a sweltering clear day as we walked past a lake at lunchtime and could observe the large carp swimming close to the surface that I mentioned that this was a perfect day for tackle soaking with a floating crust. He had no clue that I liked piscatorial pursuits and I'd forgotten, but he promised he'd sort out a day for us to go. He did, though when he looked at my bait and tackle, he suggested I chucked a lot of it out as it was too decrepit, too rubbish or just plain illegal.
So a trip to a fishing tackle shop was timetabled when we went and I shelled out an eye-watering quantity of wedge on bait and tackle as well as a rod licence and permits. We had a fine day and I recaptured the bug again, and my chum asked if I fancied hopping off for some weekend tackle soaking. I thought that was a super idea and he booked for us to travel down and fish on the Avon near Christchurch and we went down on the Friday night, checked into the guest house and got an early night and we were up at a horrible hour which came as a jolt to me for a Saturday, but by the time we got to the river, dug in, got set up I had recovered myself and had a brilliant day, altering bait and tackle set up as the fancy took me.
It was interesting in the evening when we went into the town for a drink, as it became evident how vital tackle dangling and the Avon is to the area. Many of the boozers had pictures of fishing scenes, stuffed prize pike and copies of the fishing newspapers along with the rest of the newspapers.
On the Sunday we went back to the fishing tackle shop and restocked bait and tackle that had been lost or used during the Saturday and had another lovely day by the river. I even made friends with a water rat that was interested my maggots and I kept bunging him a few and he came quite close.
It was a fantastic getaway and I got home utterly shattered and retired for an early sleep and a decision to do it again as early as I could.
20101216
