The Spectator, April 20th, 2002
Fly life It is ultimately futile, which is why flyfishing is like life. At first sight, to stand waist-deep in cold water, thrashing the pool as the rain thrashes you, and where only the mozzies are biting, is not an obviously attractive way to spend precious days away from the wage-face. Do not even think how much you've paid to get yourself into this ridiculous position. You could tell yourself it is cheaper than ocean racing, usually described as standing under a cold shower tearing up 20 notes, but at least that looks stylish in the pictures. The sad anorak in the river is merely a blot ...
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