Sometimes it just doesn't matter; how can you complain when the company is good, the weather benign, the conditions perfect, but the fish absent?
It's Bewl; it's the way it is; the reservoir is a favourite venue, but, for Harry and I, it gives up its fish reluctantly.
Bewl has introduced an "Any Methods" policy. Why, I don't know, perhaps the season's dampness has caused a drought of hardy, all-weather anglers; perhaps the Bewl water powers that be have changed a decades long ethos in favour of an elite clientelle, to an all encompassing, catch-all product brought about by the contemporary fad to dumb down as much as possible as often as possible. Maybe.
