Well I’m back...

Well I’m back...

Paul Arden | Monday, 17 September 2018

Well I’m back in Hungary. Sorry I’m a bit behind on my emails and messages etc. It’s been two years since I’ve visited Latohegy and a bomb has hit it. Certainly I don’t remember leaving it this way. So it must have been a bomb... or a double tornado. Ive been cleaning for three days solid now and I’m getting a bit worried because my wife arrives in only seven.

Also I’ve been a bit slowed down. It was Peter’s fault. I had to have a few celebratory welcome home beers with him - after all, it would be rude not to. And there might have been a Palinka sharing moment (it’s a form of Hungarian antifreeze that is supposed to be good for you, but in what way. no one can remember). And then of course I had to see Zoli the Winemaker - big mistake. So I settled in to watch a movie; Schindler’s List, and thought about Brexit and then posted on Facebook....

Now you should never ever do this. Take my advice and don’t post anywhere when you are illuminated. Don’t have your photo taken (unless you are wearing sunglasses) and never ever take any form of video. Facts of life. The problem is I woke up with comments like “well said” and “with you 100%”. FFS. 

I even had invited people to have an argument with me. Anyway, so the point that I’m getting to, is that the video I promised to deliver this week on “how to perform the Essential Flycasting Challenge” will in fact be coming next week. And it will be fantastic. 

I’m a bit out of place in Hungary. I’m a bit out of place everywhere to be honest. It’s the culture shock that comes after living in the jungle. I have a triathlon in Portugal in two weeks time. It’s a long story, coincidentally one also involving alcohol.  I thought that it would be a good idea for my sister and I - but mostly my sister - to do some triathlons.  So she booked us in for a Half Ironman.  

Of course I’ve been training. But in the jungle there is not much opportunity for running - not unless you’re being chased by an elephant. Just shuttle runs on islands really. And then Stu visited for a month or more and I had to go fishing. I managed to twist my knee carrying a cool box or possibly jerry cans of petrol up an island - came back to England, ran ten kilometres and couldn’t walk for three days. I may die in two weeks time. 

Which would be a shame because my future dreads are about 3mm long now. Yeah I know. But I’ve decided on a new hairstyle and after being bald for 18 years I need to go the other way completely, and have snakes growing out of my head.  Two sides of the same coin, and weird as this may sound (as if it’s not weird enough) being able to comment on my casting instruction videos on Sexyloops - with lots of hair - and say “that’s crap bald guy” - just has to be done in life. 

Never be boring, that’s what I say. And sometimes - not very often - but sometimes, I do actually listen to myself. And - phew - that guy’s really fucked up. 

I’ve included a picture of my cabin by the way. It doesn’t look like this any more of course Ashly.  But I still have to take  considerable caution because there may be more bombs. 

Four Hot Torpedos sold last week. Thank you!!! The August dip always gives me a small heart attack!