The Wonderful Wye (Glen Pointon appears courtesy of Forrero Rocher and Cucumber Sandwiches With The Corners Cut Off)

Just a short post to say thanks to The Peacock Hotel for another absolutely wicked day on the wonderful river Wye. I say short because our host for the day, none other than Glen Pointon seems to have stolen my thunder on his blog as usual. So i've poached some of his pics from his photobucket site to get my own back.

It's good to see that he has settled in at The Peacock. When I arrived at 11.30am on Sunday Morning I thought that I had made it before the others because it was so quiet, in fact, I walked straight past Pointon, I couldn't see him, so well did he blend in to his new surroundings.

When I eventually spotted him, after being called over by Commo, I thought I was hallucinating. Sat there, quietly tying his flies for the day to come, sipping Twinnings English Breakfast tea from fine bone china, his little finger pointing towards the ceiling as he occasionally raised the cup, was none other than Pointon, Lord Rocher himself.

"Hi Woody", he says, "come and join us".

I think that those are the most words I've ever heard Glen say without him swearing. Look back at all the posts I have written on this blog over the last year or so that involve Glen. In almost every case, in the first paragraph there will be a mention of an unfeasibly large breakfast, not today....just the tea and a nice, wafer thin biscuit would suffice.

At just after 12 noon, Johnny arrived, and I'm sure he to was in a state of utter shock to see the "Stoke on Trent One" so at home in his new habitat.

We decided to make a move and it was down to Caudwell's Mill to go look for a few rising Grayling. Commo had a nice wee wild Rainbow Trout early on and Johnny managed a Grayling.

We walked upstream a little and found a few fish rising under a tree on the far bank and Commo and I were given the task of casting at them, under the watchful eyes of Johnny and Pointon, the latter, now away from the posh surroundings, slipping in to his Liverpudlian accent, and hurling abuse at us for casting too short, casting too far, casting into trees, and generally cocking it up...but a nice wee Grayling was managed eventually.

We had a drive up to town and Glen showed us around the river. We knew there wasn't really any point in fishing too hard for the 2 or 3 hours to come as there was very little happening. The fish were not moving, there were no hatches, and energy would need to be conserved for the inevitable burst of activity in the evening to come. So for a couple of very well spent hours, we took our time examining the pools and riffles for a later date.

At about 4pm, we were slowly walking along the riverside path in Scots Garden, and Glen went all weird again. He stopped and turned to us, dismantled 9ft 4wt Streamflex in one arm, Port Vale FC emblazoned on the other, and suggested that we might "return to the Peacock for arrrrftarnun tea".

Johnny, Commo and me just looked at one another. There was nothing to be said really so we motored back to where we started and made our way into the lounge where refreshments would be served, Pointon having arranged for them previously.

Five minutes later, in the lounge, sitting dangerously comfortably in our chairs, were were served with more English Breakfast Tea, but this time, it was accompanied with homemade crumpets and lashings of strawberry jam.........I know.

Later on we'd head to the town centre and witness huge fish rising everywhere. Johnny had 2 or 3 cracking wild Rainbows and I a personal best (wild) Rainbow of just under 4lb and a Grayling of just under 2. Both to Glen's LTD sedge.

A cracking day's fishing in the great company of Commo, Johnny C, and Glen. Thanks to the Peacock and the river keeping team...

Woody