Last week we hung up our macs a wee bit early and piled in a van destined for Loch Fyne—our annual fishing trip. After the usual pit stops at craft breweries and Waitrose breakfast foods aisle, we settled into our loch-side bothy, baited our hooks and tried not to drink ourselves too sick to fish.
When it came time to hunt the waters, we followed our noses (and wily know-how no doubt provided by Neil and David’s magic fishing caps) and happened upon a school of mackerel ripe for the picking. From there it was all sushi, fried fish breakfasts and a bit of swimming in the icy cold waters—not a bad price to pay for a handful of hangovers. Here’s to next year!