Fishing trips for Dummies: Part 2

(Catch up on part one here.)

So, because we’d forgotten a bag, I had a minimum of 4 hours driving ahead of me… and after about 6 minutes of listening to the lone Wigan Pier CD in my fella’s van I decided I could either drive off the nearest cliff or put my own Spotify on through my phone. After all, there was a charger in the van so I didn’t need to worry about my battery dying.

You can see where this is headed, can’t you?

The cable overheated and obviously my battery went. About ten minutes from the lake… and I had absolutely no clue which junction to take off the motorway, let alone where to go from there. Luckily, by some freak chance, (considering I usually have fuck all sense of direction) my homing pigeon skills came into play and I managed to find my way. But seriously, how the fuck did people manage without phones back in the day? Really, tell me. Because the only think I could think of doing was going to a service station and asking strangers to borrow their charger.

Fishing lesson #4: take more than one phone cable – and don’t forget a battery pack for emergencies… like terrible fucking music

Anyway, a grand total of nine hours after we left home I finally arrived back at Cromwell – and I’ve never been more ready for a drink in my life.

cromwell lake

(How fit, please?)

Luckily the place was absolutely gorgeous and everything was already set up. So what else did I learn in my first day there? Well:

Fishing lesson #5: You’re staying in a Bivvy when you’re fishing, not a tent. I mean, it is just a tent, like – but if you call it a tent people cock their heads to one side like they don’t know what you’re talking about. Which they do.

Fishing lesson #6: It’s actually really hard to catch a fish. I always thought it was just a case of sitting on the edge of a bank with a bit of string attached to a stick, but apparently fish aren’t stupid. Being female, pissing in the bushes wasn’t really top of my agenda – and as there is a kitchen and shower block on site I didn’t have to. But going to and from the toilet all day meant I had the same conversation with almost every single fella at the lake – which was basically them telling me the fish weren’t biting and me pretending I knew wtf they were talking about.

Fishing lesson #7: You’re going to be knackered. Between the fresh air and the rods screaming in the middle of the night, (more about that next time) you find yourself in bed by sunset. Which, as a full-time lazy bitch, suited me just fine. 

Until next time… x

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