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God's Own

The New Zealander's call this country "God's Own" - I can't begin to think why.
I love mountains, if ever I settle it will be in the mountains, they make you feel both big and small at the same time, if you know what I mean.
I started out this afternoon on a lake, caught a little rainbow of around 2 1/2 - photographed it just in case, if you don't do that you're tempting fate. And then I walked up a river but it didn't feel good so I pulled out. Drove up the river to a lake; had a couple of casts there - you can do that in New Zealand, as in North America, Australia and I believe much of the rest of the world. Not in England of course and that's because of the landed gentry.
Back in the old days when there was more landed gentry than you could guillotine a few adventurous Pommies (not Pilgrims - Pilgrims went to America in search of purity and conflict) decided to invade New Zealand. And wearing gumboots and swannies they were successful - with the exception of a few who became the main course at welcoming festivals.
They brought with them various animals. Sheep, goats, rabbits, deer, trout, rabbits, buffalo, rabbits, elephants, more deer, and rabbits. They also brought rabbits. Australia, jealous of their rabbit population - but not for long - gave them possums and wallabies (no shit) in exchange for sheep. Which they stole. The main immigration requirement to enter Australia in the good ol' days, was being disorderly and knocking a British Bobby over the head. Either that or stealing bread, which immigration officials regarded very highly, and gave you 10 points, which is more than a doctor.
New Zealand is not in Australia. Although they would love to be. It's not hot either. In fact right now it's bloody cold.
Although not a Communist country, there is a great sense of "the land is for the people" and so with this thought I knocked on the farmer's door.
"Hello good farmer-dude, worker of the land and defender of the people!"
"G'day. Why are you wearing tights?"
"I'm a flyfisher. And I'd like to drive to the river!'"
"Drive to the river? Why of course, I'm a bastion of people's liberty, even Pommies. Follow the road - and if you see any cows on the wrong side of the fence, let me know."
"How will I know?"
"If there's a little one on one side and a big one on the other, then the little one is on the wrong side."
"You can count on me!"
And bidding him farewell with a cheery wave I drove up a mountain. It was quite an interesting climb. I would have taken pictures but I was holding on too tight. When the road ended at a fence I returned to the farm and met a couple of farmboys...
"Goin' fushin'?" [rod strapped to windscreen]
"Yes indeed young farmboy, with a keen eye!"
"You won't find no fush up there; you'll be wantin' the river."
Finally I found the river, by which time it was pretty late. Small fish, for here. Pretty brown of four and a half and three rainbows around four. Dropped another.
I'm about ready for a big fish day. Nice sunset...

Edited by Paul
Edited by Paul



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