You nasty little fecker.

Well, Jasper Farquhar has let some pesky little oiks muscle in on his turf since the spring. This absolutely vile thing actually stuck its great red signal claw right in my finger. Good job it wasn't one of the big ole daddy craws that are like lobsters. Drew blood and everything. Look at it's left tiny claw.

Fish wise perch, dace and roach kept me busy, particularly as the light levels dropped once evensong bells had called in the faithful and the dog fox began his barking behind me. Nothing knee shaking but a few did need the net. Most came on the drop so little need to feed as they kept coming. 

This triploid really did go well on the end of my line, a  bit skinny though. 200 of these pellet guzzlers will help keep a few pike in good trim though.

Something else went well on the end of my line, so well it went right down to the spool knot, I couldn't get the rod up, and over the big reeds to my right to follow it and could not turn it, even with everything locked up and the cork groaning under the reel seat.  I have only felt such inexorable power once before on the river, that time it was a mid -20's pike on meat that I did eventually get to the net twice, in heavy flow on 6lb line, only for it to shake it's head and bite me off. I didn't see this fish but it only could have been a big pike, carp or barbel I suppose. 

Chard earth policy...

Day out with littlest un today. Weather kind and out of the wind it did feel more than 18C.

Request to see the deer at Gunton, the stags are getting ready to rut in  a big way.

Always have to stop at Morston (Blakeney Harbour) to see the goats and of course the view.

Lolly stop at Sheringham Park, one of Repton's finest..

Happened on an outdoor photography collection in the Bower Garden, a stunning array of images. Worth a look to be sure. (£5.50 to park if not an NT member though)

A stick is an essential object in any wooded area

And a final request to drive over the cattle grids  at Felbrigg Hall. Autumn is officially here and the colchicums are out (and so are my nerine lillies).

Chicken checking is a must in the walled garden and bee orchard

The colour on that chard though....

I hear whispers of roach in Jasper Farqhuar territory so hope to be on the river  for a few hours into dusk tomorrow.

Hoops

Saw this feller whilst aside the Med

An playful hoopoe in fact

Had  a cack day at work so pleased with an impromptu nap hand of these little battlers on the way home. Just love that pin spining and the rod hooped over (sorry, no pun intended). 17 degrees as well. Unheard of.

Ox-eyed

Quick pit stop at Oxburgh Hall. Rather quaint and low key I  thought. Lovely none the less.

And there were denizens of the shallows too. It's always rudd in these sort of ornamental settings though the faithful retainers spoke of snaggle toothed pike as well.

Harvest of the ugly fruit in the walled garden.

Go on then, ha-ha.

I dont  know about ox-eyed, kale-eyed more like. The Metropolitan Elite rave about kale. It's vile however you dress it up.

Gushing advert for Balaeric Tourist Board alert

I quite like Majorca you know

And best of all so do the kids.

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.