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Fishing in France
Two very good friends of mine live in France, not
too far from La Rochelle. They have a large house in a small French
village and they rent our rooms to travelers who pass through looking
for bed and breakfast accommodation in the countryside. Needless to say,
it’s the perfect place to visit for a few days when it’s off-season and
they don’t have any guests.
Last time I was there, my friend John took me fishing. He knows I don’t
like the sport, but his wife, Val, wanted us both out of the way while
she prepared lunch. John grabbed a couple of rods, his tackle box and a
cooler full of beer. We drove down to the river with 4 of his 7 dogs in
the back of the car.
Half the beers had already been drunk as the sun went down, and life
couldn’t haven’t got any better I thought, as I played with the dogs and
chatted to John about life, women, past glories and future plans.
We arrived home drunk, fishless and very happy. However, lunch was
spoiled and Val was angry. An excellent chef, she’d studied at a Cordon
Bleu cooking school in Paris, Val had spent hours preparing our food. I
was sorry and felt very foolish and selfish. We made ham sandwiches for
dinner and went to bed early.
The next day all had been forgiven and the rest of my stay was wonderful.
John and I haven’t been ‘fishing’ together since!
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