Well the best laid plans and all that. Today was supposed to be trip into the unknown, well the unknown for me anyway. A trip to the River Bure to meet up with Bure Boy and the Essex Scribbler but the snowy and the frosty weather gods, along with the swollen river gods conspired against us so it will have to be another time.
Over in West Norfolk lunchtime came the sun shone and I was going to go fishing anyway and what was wrong with the weather here? Nothing. Apart from the fact it was bloody freezing so why not go down the drain and the old moorings this afternoon?
Off I went and it was cold, very, very cold. It snowed a bit, rained a bit and blew a bit and gradually became ever colder but over dozen perch and one pike graced the net which promptly froze to the bank but it could have been worse.
Anyway, apart from fingers that were like fish fingers and couldn't turn the car key until they thawed out it was a good afternoon, none of the fish were huge but at least they stirred themselves from their chilly torpor and came out to play.
You can't ask for more.