I don’t remember much about the days before I started fishing but about 23 years ago with a willow rod and some stronger-than-average thread, a needle bent on a screwdriver as a hook and a float made of the dried tip of the corn plant I was ready to explore the wonderful river seen above. As a five year old kid I instantly fell in love with the hidden water world and the wonderful creatures that swam the depths. And the first fish I caught there was a gudgeon. The Romanian name of the fish for reasons unknown to me roughly translates as ‘piglet’ and there were lots of them back then. Later on I discovered some of the other river residents like the rudd, the prussian carp or the catfish and managed to land a few of them with my rudimentary tackle.
I won’t be able to tell you the name of that small river since I guess it never had one. Back then it was called as it’s called today: the valley.
This was my very first swim:
Although I live at a considerable distance from it, I still get the pleasure of fishing there a few times a year. I would advise any ‘unfortunate soul who suffers from a passion for angling’ to do the same and return from time to time to the water where he or she got the addiction. And at different times of the year if possible.
