2 hours ago · 15 min read2921 words · Life · hide

Who would have thought it? Good mate Simon and I, two perfectly ordinary anglers of modest means, (well I say that, Simon earns a small fortune), questionable dress sense and even more questionable fishing ability, were about to find ourselves fishing behind enemy lines. Not literally, of course, although given the price of the property surrounding us, I wouldn't have been surprised to find armed security guards patrolling the riverbank asking to see our fishing licences, proof of income and the last three years of tax returns.You see we were heading for Tiddington Road in Stratford-upon-Avon, a stretch of the Warwickshire Avon where the houses are so expensive that even the garden sheds probably have their own mortgage arrangements. We're talking million-pound-plus properties, riverside gardens and the sort of residents who probably refer to a barbel as something the gardener has been asked to remove from the ornamental pond.You see I turned 54 this week, Tuesday the 3rd of November,…

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