Ed­i­tor’s let­ter

EDP Norfolk - - EDP NORFOLK MAGAZINE - Rachel Buller, Rowan Man­tell and I will be at the Royal Nor­folk Show in the Jar­rold fash­ion mar­quee; please come along, en­joy a su­perb fash­ion show and say hello!

When I think of the Nor­folk Broads, two defin­ing im­ages al­ways pop into my nog­gin. The first is an al­most photo-real mem­ory of sun­rise; it is late April or early May and we’re on a school trip for a few days in big old cruis­ers which are crusted in a light frost af­ter a chill night.

A dis­tant wind­mill and a low line of reeds are sil­hou­et­ted black against the vivid or­ange sky as the emerging sun burns away the night. It sounds like a stock pho­to­graph but it is burned on my 11-year-old mem­ory.

The sec­ond rec­ol­lec­tion is a com­edy video of the class clown hop­ping from one boat to the other be­fore los­ing his foot­ing on a piece of rope and plung­ing astern, head-first into the cold river. Hi­lar­i­ous.

Af­ter that ini­tial ex­po­sure to our won­der­ful na­tional trea­sure I’m ashamed to ad­mit I spent pre­cious lit­tle time out on the Broads un­til a few years ago. But re­cently we’ve had some great times out on the water.

Some well-heeled friends have a boat which we’ve been out on, we had a won­der­ful lunch on a wherry, kayaked around Hick­ling on Boxing Day and I even reac­quainted my­self with the no­ble pas­time of an­gling for the first time since I was a 15-year-old.

A re­cent TV pro­gramme re­minded me of the fun my friends Paul, Carl and I used to have back in the day, fish­ing in lit­tle rivers and ponds around the county with vary­ing de­grees of

suc­cess. Ac­tu­ally, for me it was with very lit­tle suc­cess; I was an adept hooker of trees, weeds and oc­ca­sion­ally my trousers, while Paul and Carl would reel in roach, rudd, perch and pike in de­cent num­bers.

The pro­gramme, Mor­timer & White­house; Gone Fish­ing was a lit­tle piece of gen­tle view­ing where not much hap­pens, but de­light­fully. Two old friends, co­me­di­ans Bob and Paul, both hav­ing had se­ri­ous health is­sues, pot­tered around Bri­tain just yarn­ing and fish­ing.

A cou­ple of the episodes fea­tured Nor­folk, with the Wen­sum and Bin­tree Mill prom­i­nent, and for quite a lot of the time they were as suc­cess­ful at catch­ing fish as me, which was grat­i­fy­ing. But it set me to think­ing about the real plea­sures of an­gling; the soli­tude, the tak­ing a step back from the day-to-day hurly-burly, of just peace­ably watch­ing na­ture go­ing about its busi­ness.

There are a cou­ple of nice lit­tle lakes near our home; per­haps it is time to ac­quire some new fish­ing gear, get out there and get busy do­ing noth­ing. I prob­a­bly wouldn’t even bait the hook, thus avoid­ing the dis­ap­point­ment of not catch­ing any­thing.

Fish­ing can be great re­lax­ation, es­pe­cially if you don’t catch any­thing

DO­MINIC CAS­TLE, Ed­i­tor, EDP Nor­folk Mag­a­zine 01603 772758/07725 201153, do­minic.cas­[email protected]­chant.co.uk

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