I have seen the error of my ways, yes, it is true that yesterday I completed an entire Formula One season on the Playstation, but let’s face it, it’s hardly something to put on your CV.
Dawn wakes me up this morning and pretty much insists I leave the house and go to a farmers market in Angel with her. I try and make excuses but we all know that it’s the Shanghai Grand Prix that’s keeping me in. So without even showering (again) I leave the flat, we go and look at funky vegetables, red carrots and the bestest jam I did ever taste (Rhubarb and vanilla, £3 a jar, but I’m getting some when I have money).
It is pleasant, we are either now to head back to flat for tea or go to canal. I’m a bit bored of the canal, but she tells me we are going to another bit that is prettier. So I say, “let’s have an adventure”
And we surely did.
We got to canal, sat by the side and chatted, watching kids in little sailboats frolic and people eating sandwiches, who’d have thought this hidden paradise is just two minutes away from the smelly pretensions of Upper Street.
There are always people fishing along the canal, I’ve never seen anyone catch a a fish. we presume that these people are just fishing to get away from naggy wives cooking dinner.
The man next to us has three rods in an elaborate tripod system, he is not even touching them as they are secured in the water, as fishing goes, this is definitely cheating. He is smoking a cigarette and eating biscuits.
I notice that very near to where we are sat is a maggot, crawling around on the concrete. We elect to move away.
We walk over the wooden bit of the lock (bit scary) and sit on the little islandy bit watching the canal folk being very much unlike Rosie and Jim prepared me for, I don’t mean that they are all having sex or anything, they just all seem to people from media having holidays, no gyspies or ducks anywhere.
There is another man fishing, he has only two rods set up, he has caught something, we cannot believe it, then it comes out of the canal and it is the size of a sardine, perhaps smaller, perhaps in fact, a sardine.
Pathetic, from our safe island isolated distance we quietly mock him under out breaths.
There is a boat coming, fearing being trapped on our side of the canal whilst they open the lock we trot back across the canal (bit scary).
We sit to watch the houseboat people moving across, there are four people on board, an old man not too dissimilar to Penfold yesterday, his wife, and two younger men. Old man is instructing men what to do and patronising his wife, I hate him so cockily sit by lock and stare at him. Oh yes, I made my point.
I could go into details about our thoughts on this family arrangement, but Dawn spotted that three rod cigarette man had caught a fish. His rod was arcing (ooh missus) to imply it was bigger than sardines man.
We left the houseboat struggling at the lock and watched,. We could see the fish under the waters surface, it looked big. He had a net and was trying to scoop it in, the fish was too big for the net. His cigarette was still hanging out of his mouth. This man was a real man.
He shouted at me, when real men shout at me I’m often scared. But his words were “can you do us a favour”.
Anything for you, real man.
He asked me to go and get a blue mat from his table. I processed the information, realised this was within my abilities and had to hold back the urge to go yes sir like in some schmaltzy American film.
I went to his table, suddenly the panic set in, this was a real man that fished and smoked cigarettes, he didn’t sit in all day and eat biscuits pretending to be a Formula One driver, he probably skinned rabbits. If you asked him to put up a shelf he’d just say “how high?”
I was severely intimidated. There were two blue things on his table. A big foam blue folded up thing and a bit of what looked like tarpaulin. I guessed he wanted the big blue foam thing. I lifted, its handle was stuck on table. I had to move his tuc man biscuits out of the way. Now I was in hyper panic, he was relying on me, a complete stranger and potential fellow man to help him. He was wafting on me for his fish catching antics to proceed, and I was failing him.
I finally dislodged it all and took it over, hoping beyond hope that he didn’t want the tarpaulin. He didn’t even say thank you, what a man. He was too busy pulling out the…
Ohmygodthatisthebiggestfishieversaw
He pulled it out and put it on the mat, the mat that I helped him with, I can take some of this fish credit. I am a man. Dawn tells me it is a pike. I have no idea about fish, I just nod in agreement. It’s about 3ft long and very very big.
The man takes out the hook (and seemingly a condom) from its mouth and weighs it.
It is a staggering 18lb.
EIGHTEEN
That’s over a stone.
That is a big fucking fish.
I steal a glance over to sardine man and inwardly LAUGH IN HIS FACE, I am here with proper fishing man. He is happy, I am happy, Dawn is happy. A studenty type comes over, presumes I am with fishing man (which I am) and he asks me what kind of fish it is, with full authority I say its a pike, he seems impressed.
Some people have gotten off a boat to come look, photos are being taken. There is a true proper community spirit, the second I’ve witnessed in two days. I love London.
Eventually the fish is put back in to the water. We all chat for a little bit and go our separate ways.
I’m more excited than I have ever been ever. Dawn however, thinks it’s a bit cruel. I posit the theory that maybe fish can’t feel. She is not sure this is true. I say, but how happy is that fish now? It’s been given a second chance, he thought he was going to die, but now he can taste the canal water like he never has before and he can make a list of things that he’s never done as he truly appreciates life.
Dawn thinks that fish can’t have exponential crises, I say they either feel nothing, or feel everything and wander about the happy fish going to it’s other bi fish friends saying “you’ll never believe what happened, I was caught by a fisherman this big.”
Me happy, we had an adventure.
I heart adventures.