Dank, damp, dour.

Breakfast out with the Brother then a nice pint in the Swan. All the way from Lewes in Sussex. The pint, not the Brother.

After that met up with the Loafer fresh from his Fens escapades. A very dank, damp and dour late December afternoon. River being run several feet down. Found  a few 'deeper' spots, second one and something took an interest in the flake. Not big, tiny in fact but you can't beat a chub bite on the tip. Top mate and top angler. Shite with a DSLR. I expect he'll blame the camera being lugged round in the Big Green Bucket without a lens cap. Another bungled bite was my lot.