Now that the New Year is well and truly upon us, Fishpool can look back on the festive season with a tinge of regret that he or she didn’t manage to cast a line on Christmas day. Back when Fishpool was still little more than a sprat, he or she woke one Christmas morning to discover that alongside the usual rolled up copy of The Beano and half squished satsuma, Santa Claus had delivered a pint of maggots. Not only that, but Fishpool’s parents had clearly colluded with Mr Claus as a fishing rod lay beneath the tree and Fishpool was to be allowed to go fishing on Christmas Day.
It was glorious, despite being bitterly cold, and having cleared some of the ice from the margins, Fishpool even caught some roach. Of course, there was no-one else on the water, and for those couple of hours there was no-one else in the world. The nearby road was deserted and the post Christmas-lunch walkers were still on their starters. Fishpool’s own dinner would be waiting at home, but before he or she tucked in, would have become utterly lost in frost-gloved fishing. The perfect way to christen a new rod, and turkey and stuffing will never taste as good.