Al fresco

Mid Bureboi's mega platter went down well on Saturday and it is only fair I provide more food porn from our Med escape.

Eldest  Bureboi was not impressed with his first sight of the strip like connurbation of Platja de Muro but the fare was quite local in character given the abundance of Brits and Germans.

Lovely plate of big sardines for George the Hadrasaur and some snails and rabbit for me.

There was a snail farm down the road from us. And pick your own outside the villa gates.

Driver blues meant a lot of this for me. Loved all the table staffs deft flick and stashing of the resealable cap for next fill up from the tap.

They do love an olive and the smell of this stall was gorgeous

George the Hadrasaur and Eldest Bureboi did have a few of these every lunchtime.

I made do with the odd perky time snifter and cheap whiskey at night. 3 and 5 euro respectively. We live life big.

The most disappointing fare came after  a straight line 40k and on the ground 65k hairpin  grind up to Valdemossa, once home of Chopin and George Sands. Great scenery I was told. I didn't see much of it. Thank god for automatic transmission. We came back the straight way...

The potatoes were well seasoned I suppose.

Sometimes a villa lunch is were it is at. George the Hadrasaur went a bit green but the rest of us wolfed them down. 11 euro well spent I'd say.

Listen up captive audience Vaddemossaa wastrels, this Menu del Dia was 30 euro less and 10 times better. And at the edge of the  flat, fertile  windmill studded Interior. Understated elegance wins every time.

 Not a bad fish counter for a supermarket.

Nice

Que?

Slow food and 0 food miles they said. Didn't have the heart to tell the little 'us where Daddy's leg of lamb came from....

The offending limb of lamb. Meat is murder. Yummy.

I could walk here so much beer was drunk. It is a left handed glass and I am right handed.

Faffed about with cucumber on a bit of slate




Pulpo

Marrow bone and the very local (next door) lamb's innards. Flipping gorgeous

Homeward bound.

Hunting cabbages

Off up to the home of steel yesterday to deliver a few bits and bobs to Mid Bureboy who is following up his First from Loughborough with a year learning to teach in Sheffield. Dismal rain for much of the journey and the closest I've ever come to the end of a rainbow.

One of the joys of the A17 is an unexpected collection of military hardware, not far from Sutton Bridge. Pride of place goes to this fine Hawker Siddeley Hunter.  Make a change from the miles and miles of cabbages and one hill that  does have a 2 mile crawler lane southbound..

An impressive city is Sheffield.

And an impressive platter for Mid Bureboy and I. He has progressed from plain pasta and dry ( no butter) sandwiches. And he ate most of that.
 

Interesting version of  a blue plaque on the defunct Black Swan declaring the debut Clash line up.

His digs (to the left) are right on the River Don though he dosen't fish.

I do and it was a bit of  a grueller  today at Horstead, even for the chap weilding a J W Young pin that cost at least 10 times more than my Advanta Ikon.  Perhaps a little too clear? This little feller did brighten up my stolen hour and a half though.

Back in blighty

You may have to suffer my drivel about time in sonny climes another day. 

Meanwhile back in Blighty I have just about got the sand out of everywhere. Nice to see the Sheringham Shoals wind farm as we lost height and speed inbound to Naarich. Hope that is not chem trail vapour being dispersed...

Hunny has already shut down for the winter it seems. Just the grey pound to keep the local businesses afloat until the summer now.

A lot of the beaches between Yarco and Cromer always seem half empty, which is good cos that's the we like it, we like it,we  like it. Overstrand  on Saturday was empty . Except for the wreck of hundreds of big, fat Cromer crabs and whelks.

Our local mill is getting the gentrification treatment. The bonus is some serious canal restoration. Have yet to fish it properly but really ought to.

Finally got the rods out on Sunday and sidetracked myself with plenty of small roach on the blue lagoon but the river kept calling, as did the looming grey. I simply had to get some hemp in and though the trot was short, and in deep water enough hemp and caster got down to keep the dace an gudgeon feeding. Such wiry fish dace. I got soaked but really enjoyed it. Most of the stretch is still bank to bank thick weed so I hope Storm Aileen dumps half the Atlantic and starts to loosen it up. Two different sixes reported last week, weed so thick must have been misidentified  grassies....

Stunning chublet must have eaten half the casters. Gob shite.

And the last fish of the evening left me thinking of lobs and paternostered gudgeon. Always well marked on this river.

https://youtu.be/ncdgRJVK5I4

Spotty herbert.

Prospecting a few spots for the littleuns  so they can catch a couple and perhaps spark an interest for the future. Popped over to a likely bet, it's shrunk and the fish have grown so it would perhaps be a bit hairy in a whip. Here's what beat the smashing golden rudd to the bait anyway.

Headed over to the millpool at Horstead where the Bure becomes tidal. No local kids risking life and limb this time but lots of noisy canoeists doing the same but perhaps better protected. Had a short  turbulent trot and the 3bb Avon probably not that suitable but even so had a real variety bag in a short 45 minutes. I'd been taken to task for my mattless shot above so felt it only proper to show I had learnt my lesson with this first cosseted dace. Several of the fish taken had quite large bellies, tapeworm perhaps? Though the bloke a swim up had  fed rather a lot of bread.

The flow meant even modest fish sent the Drennan Tench Float into a pleasing bend and the pin smoothly paying out line on the trot. Given longer I would have have beefed up the float and had more control.  Dace, roach, perch, gudgeon, a bream X roach  hybrid and a chub that was all chub apart from a concave bright red ventral fin. Chace? Then a real surprise and certainly the spriteliest of the little lot. Spottiest too.

Wouldn't mind catching it again when it has had a few years silvering up out in the North Sea and decides to head back to spawn. Had noticed a few splashy rises even in the white water. Saved the best till the last cast when a roach was taken on the retrieve and a really serious bend in the rod from a decent pike. Not the fast dash of the pond bound carp but really testing power in the heavy flow. Took a second attempt to let the flow drift the fish into the rather small looking pan net. Even in summer lean condition probably 12 lb. The tiny looking #18 lodged in the outside of the mouth hence it's secure hold. Sadly a trace left in the fish and the bottom treble in the stomach.  Removed it and hopefully the fish will recover. Not once did I not feel out of control even with only 4.4 lb line straight through in the heavy flow but not overgunned for the hand sized fish either.

Chasing rainbows.

Rain and shine and a rainbow will be somewhere nearby. In this case spread all over the mighty Walsham.

Heard of some silver and gold in an another pot at the end of another rainbow that needs chasing soon.

Strange fruit

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. There is a new fruit being grown in North Norfolk. Getting secret trials somewhere deep in Boden land by artisan plants people who have bought their skills over from Eastern Europe before the Little Englanders raise their pathetic drawbridges and cut our noses to spite our faces on their behalf.

Wafting over the feudal dwellings  of the artisan gatherers of noble fruit is the most heavenly smoke from a wood fired pizza oven and the sound of our cash being counted by the bearer of the bushiest eyebrows and wonkiest of glasses in Poppyland.

Not sure the gated glamping enclosure is quite ready though.....

We always call in to see the tanks, this being one of them and of course the Doodlebug. The Meteor seems to be somewhere else on site at present.

A touch inland and whilst social media burnt with either righteous indignation (The Little Englander brigade again) or namby pamby lefty liberal hand wringing over the wearing or not of a rainbow coloured badge the little'uns careered around the Mulberry Bush and scattered the residents of the Dovecote. They career a lot.

Going to need quite few inhabitants of this bush to produce enough silk to make that purse, sow's ears or not

Everywhere is a riot of colour or architectural height, with the merest hint of going over creeping in.

I look at the water. Firstly to make sure the Little 'uns haven't careered in, then what is under, on or over the surface.

Snot a lot

Just about 2 spare hours so quick sticks to the very local water and after some diligent feeding of hemp, smatterings of corn and mixed pellets the bubbles began and in with a couple of grains of  corn holding a small dendrobena on the #12 B520. Did we have dendrobena back in the day?

It's really low on the pond and even a short waggler seemed to brush against the fish as they upended, more so the mudpigs that swirled away, sending up clouds of silt and sheets of bubbles.

First to succumb this feisty fish with a twisted upper tail lobe and a bit of an attitude. Pin and Drennan Tench combo doing the business again.

It's great uncle splashed about then wallowed through the silt to the pan net, doing a great job of filling it, and coating it with a thick layer of slime, second only to snig snot.

Hauling it's slobbering bulk in I pondered briefly how secure the overfit joints on the new landing net handle were. Too secure it seems as I now have an inadvertent 2 metre top section. Probably gummed up with bream slime.

All too soon it was wine o'clock and my irrational fear of not being able to see the lock combo even with my handy phone flashlight app so off I trudged to watch Bolt wish he had hung up his spikes in Rio.

Feeding the starving millions..

Got that song lyric Essex Scribbler? Anyway, got me a new rod. A Drennan 13 foot Tench float rod. Something with a bit more beef to hold out on a tinca or a mudpig but still be sensitive to fish a waggler as well as a chubber and big hunk of flake for winter chevin.  Comes as a two piece ringed to carry set up with a screw in last foot. Not the finish of the purist Drennan rods of yore but one I have been hankering after.

First outing on the faintly blue lagoon to use up those casters and hemp. Nothing earth shattering but a good 12lb of blade skimmers and roach, biggest this one. Rod responsive, light to hold and a joyously sweet bend with backbone.

Earnt me an early finish so gave the rod another testing, this time with a pin and something that really would pull back. I pulled up at the village duck pond to see a bivvy and rod pods. Really. It was blowing a hooley and a big wet was on the way. The starving millions were on the pellets straight away and in quick order the float was away, no need to strike. This was one of the more usual profile pond fish. Could be ages old but in general good nick, as no keepnets allowed.

3 times the tip hooped round and the pin revolved sweetly before the wet happened.

Nearly an hour before desisted and by then the starving millions were absolutely mad for it. Anything that goes in is nudged or mouthed and the float and the locking shot were particularly targeted. One got the small waggler stuck in it's gob and couldn't let go. The float moves a couple of feet on their backs or the line is dragged. Short of fishing a floating pole with a bait floating or just under the surface direct of the tip not sure how you get round it but enough do get pricked and hang on to make it super fun, and the rod and pin combo were perfect. This was the "biggest" of the short trip and gave a right good go.

Looks even weirder this way up.

And the bivvy boys and a gnome under a brolly caught nowt. How?

Summer daze

Out and about with the little uns today, not the hottest of days but pleasant enough down below the cliffs on the strands.  We have so many lovely and long beaches you never really feel hemmed in.

Hunting for hearts in Mundesley, only about 70 to go.....

Chips, the bronze drop and (self sown) nasturtiums for the ravening hordes.

Journey's end for the obligatory ice cream and doughnut (but not for me).

You'd be thinking that with those blue skies that I'd be out fishing tonight. Especially with this little beauty to break in. Sadly rain has stopped play. It has taken two days to dry everything dried out from a quick 10 minutes with a few worms on Wednesday that led to getting absolutely soaked under an old and thus sparse oak along with nearly 2 dozen stupid stinking sheep for a storm lighted hour. They were touching the trunk and were not wearing wellies or derriboots so I figured they would get fried first  if the lightning did strike the biggest thing round for about  a mile..

Now, will my frozen casters be defrosted casters or just mush when I look at them tomorow?
I do seem to remember keeping them that way when turning them back in the day.