I've joked in the past about fishing in the old close season but as we know, this is my time for breaking patterns, throwing tradition to the wind and trying new things. So I'm actually going trout fishing next week. For real trout. With a fly rod. This will be my first proper excursion for over 10 years - I was taken to either the Test or the Itchen by a wealthy company director as a treat. I caught nothing, he caught a grayling. You can tell it made a big impression on me.

But it turned out that could cast - at least I could cast 20 feet or more. So, with flies especially tied for me by Ian in Canada on the way (why not jump straight to the bespoke stuff, that's what I say) and a borrowed trout rod and reel waiting in Sean's car (which presumably still whiffs strongly of the trout he caught last week - a good omen, surely) I shall essay forth and make a fool of myself in front of small, expensive fish. What fun.

Meantime, here's a photo of the river where I normally fish but seen from the opposite bank. I still can't quite get my head round that, but thanks to Paul for the suggestion.