I finally sold my car - for a dollar.
I had been giving various parts away for the last week - picked up a hitchhiker who liked the look of the drinks can holder:
"Take it; be my guest"
And then I ran across a friend who has just bought himself a car for 750 bucks (man, did he get ripped off :-)) who is about to embark on a mission to Perth (that's a long, long way):
"Need some tools? How about an esky?"
When I started giving bits away I was hoping that perhaps I could get rid of the whole car in this manner. I imagined starting off in Noosa say, with a complete car and ending up in Coolum with only the passenger door left, which in one of those moments of synchronicity (that I didn't experience once in Oz incidentally and what does that tell me?) a gentleman would suddenly appear from behind a coconut tree and ask me what I was doing carrying a door around and could he have it since it was exactly what he is looking for and would I like a dollar BTW.
Anyway, it didn't happen like that and although I did get the offer of fifty bucks from a second hitchhiker (or a straight swap for his skate-board), my conscience got the better of me and I just couldn't do it to him (too innocent looking). The plan then devised, was to drive the car to the airport and abandon it, but this didn't have the final ring to it that I was looking for, and I have tried such a manoeuvre before and it never works; you get to the airport and what happens is that you meet a dude from McDonalds who offers you fifty bucks for it or worse; the car breaks down and you miss your flight altogether.
So when Toni offered me a dollar and a lift to the airport I readily agreed.
OK so Noosa didn't turn out as expected it never does; I get there and my life seems to stop and flip upside down and an unexpected tidal wave sneaks up from behind and flattens me, before spinning me over and over like a washing machine and popping me out in some place I have never been before nor wanted to visit, where I have to swim like hell just to keep my head above water, which I never completely manage BTW, but somehow out of everything that happens I learn something about life, myself or something completely different that I neither knew nor knew I needed knowing, and never anything about fishing.
Of course that's why I go there; two weeks in Noosa can give you more excitement than three ordinary lifetimes anywhere else. However I won't be back, I'm overflowing with Noosa excitement now and had my fill of it and I've decided to do the South American thing for my next winter escapade a man with my talent for getting into trouble can find excitement anywhere and besides, Noosa is like an anchor rope that ends just short of the surface, which is a bit of a shame since Sean reckons that there's some great bass fishing up the Noosa River which, incidentally, he is writing an article about and am I looking forward to this article; for three years now it has been in production and, all being well in Sean's world, it will be on my desk Monday morning (I don't have a desk btw this sexyloops stuff is cutting edge and we do it on the fly).
Life as a rainbow
I've come to the startling conclusion that my life is like a hooked rainbow trout bear with me on this one; I'm going out on limb here and I may be some time.
If I fight life's flow it's a bitch - possibly because I'm fighting. And the harder I fight, the worse it gets. Running towards the guy with the rod (who I also think is me BTW hang on in here; this gets pretty wild) is no good either; there's slack line and I'm hopelessly lost.
So what we have here is two minds; one mind is the rainbow trout (the deluded surface one - if you want to give it a name) and the other (the true mind :-)) is the angler. Of course the angler is not trying to simply land himself that would be too simple and far too dull no, the angler is leading himself upstream passing through snags and weirs and all the time meeting other interesting fish (all fish are interesting incidentally that's an important detail).
The fact that the river is indeed an illusion created by the angler's mind and all of "life's problems" are a creation of the trout's mind doesn't seem to help me much when I'm entangled with someone else's line
especially when they are heading in some other direction - possibly seawards (I suppose that's why you shouldn't attach).
By the way, I still haven't found any Mugwai in my river...
You know, sometimes I think that I would just like a normal life, but then I look at people who I consider to be living "normal" lives and I think no, fuck it, give me the tidal waves, the dollar cars and the lost luggage tags. Lay it on thick, dish out your worst; give me anything but a "normal" life. (So you see? It is my fault I do put it out there; I like this stuff :-))
Lost luggage tags
While in Brisbane, as I was unloading my tri bike from the back of Toni's car, I happened to spy a luggage tag belonging to someone from Wilsonville AL (wherever that is - Alabama?).
"Look Toni, some dude has lost his luggage tag
I know, I'll take it with me to England and send it to him from London. That will surprise him."
If I can make someone else's life that little bit more surreal and interesting then I will. What I might just do is stick a stamp to the back and it should get there on it's own accord; no envelope required -or pin it to a potatoe.
I'm actually writing this from an airport in Japan waiting for a flight back to Heathrow. Sean (from the NZ 6-pound trout mission) is kindly picking me up from the airport. Or at least that's what he thinks. However in an attempt to make his life that little bit more surreal and interesting, I am sending him to the wrong terminal. Don't ask ok, suffice to say that it's just as well that I have my tri-bike with me, just in case I have to cycle to Terminal 2.
For me this forthcoming trout fishing season is a very serious one (whatever that means) - although there is bound to be some saltwater action as well at some point (just for variety and to keep the enthusiasm of The Panel up I'm going to Denmark next week for example, and according to John, from the Isle of Wight, it would help if I had a fetish for rubber - I'll just leave that one hanging I think).
I haven't had a full season in the UK for three years now and I am really looking forward to it. Saltwater flyfishing is interesting in as much the entire thing completely baffles me. Trout fishing on the other hand, is interesting too- although in this case it's actually because I have a fair idea as to what I am actually doing (mostly). Bit of a contrast there hope that one doesn't flip upside down.
This week I shall work out where I shall be and when exactly so that you can book flycasting lessons. Right now I am in Coggeshall, Essex and will be here for another 8 days. Better be quick :-)
It's nice to be back incidentally :-)