They say you can enjoy a trip three times: before, during and after. With “before” and “during” posponed, “after” is the last resort now; I start browsing through a heap of pictures that have been waiting for curation for too long a time. And the mind travels with a hint of nostalgia of places and people. In this way, I recall: remoteness; dawn; solitude; lake; expectation; surprise; fellowship; happiness… Just as it happens with this image.
Plop! The big brown immediately turns itself and heads toward my little nymph; although not in a hurry, it shows some evident bad intent. A whitish blink from its mouth marks the instant in which the fish stops where —I suspect— my imitation is. When softly tightening the line I activate a mechanism that, at once, gets the fish performing some acrobatics a couple of meters above the water. After the big splash I feel that there is nothing pulling on the end of the line anymore. I smile, though; doubts about our election of this tiny spring creek —nothing but a very short and thin line on a map in a phone— dissipate themselves immediately.
It is not an easy question, and —who knows—, years ago, my answer would have been different. What I think now is that a top guide is that one who is able of turning a bad catching day into a good fishing session. It is all about the experience, and —in my book— that experience is about finding beauty and learning something in the process.
“A top guide is that one who is able of turning a bad catching day into a good fishing session”
Plop! La gran trucha vuelve la cabeza de inmediato y se dirige hacia mi pequeña ninfa; sin prisa pero con evidente determinación. Un destello blanquecino de la boca señala el instante en el que el pez se detiene donde —intuyo— se encuentra mi imitación. Al templar la línea activo un mecanismo que, al instante, pone al pez a hacer acrobacias a un par de metros sobre el agua. Tras el salpicón, de inmediato siento que ya no hay nada tirando al otro lado de la línea. Sin embargo sonrío. Las dudas sobre nuestra elección, a puro ojo, de este diminuto spring creek —no más que una corta y delgadísima línea en el mapa— ya se han disipado.
It was a week ago that we got back home from our fishing trip to New Zealand. Time to browse through thousands of pictures, delete a lot of them and keep the good ones, while savouring the memories that each photo brings back. Also time to reply some emails, messages and phone calls. A question is prevalent: how is the fishing over there?
Visiting New Zealand is in the dreams of every fly fisher. Traveling there for the first time doesn’t relieve the itch. In fact, you can’t wait to get back!
Not an easy feat, to be honest, as money and spare time are hurdles difficult to overcome.
But, when more than a year ago I received an invitation from Chris Dore for some fishing in the South Island, I decided that it was time to jump those hurdles. So almost two years after my first trip to the sight-fishing paradise, I was there again.