Fishing has been one of those things, like pottery classes, or going on a yoga retreat in Ibiza, that I’ve never tried but envied from afar. People doing those things look calm, focused. The very things a hobby should bring. They don’t look like people whose minds are fraught with deadlines, meetings and calls, and an inbox where emails tick up manically.
So on a cold December morning I’m chasing calmness, standing at the banks of the River Thames near Syon Park in the west London borough of Hounslow, and focusing hard on flinging line across the brown water, with a 9ft, surprisingly light, fly-fishing rod (with a number 5 line since you ask).
