We expected things to be sluggish but it was still awfully slow. I started fishing the fast water below the overflow (pictured here) but despite finding it hard to imagine another swim that looked more fishy, didn't get a bite. From then I moved every half hour, loose feeding with meat and cheese paste and then dropping the bait into a succession of likely spots. Didn't get a bite until darkness fell and I ended up in the same swim as a couple of nights ago. Same routine too. Baited up. Cast in. A minute later, a huge rod-in-the-water tug and after a tidy little fight, another large chub was on the bank. Could have been the brother of the one I caught a few nights ago. Lovely fish.

And that was that. I moved a couple of times, returned to the fast water, got one knock and promptly put my tackle up a tree. Packing up was miserable because of the insects. I do miss smoking....

Still the kettle was fun - and particularly fiery - and my luggage arrangements ( a return to the creel and the inflatable seat) much easier on the arms. The next trip however, will be somewhere else. I feel Surrey calling...