How I learned to fly-fish on the banks of the Thames
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A fly-fishing session in London strips the pastime of its elite connotations and delivers an object lesson in mindfulness. The Guardian’s journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link. Learn more.
Fishing has been one of those things, like pottery classes, or going on a yoga retreat in Ibiza, that I’ve never tried but envied from afar. People doing those things look calm, focused. The very things a hobby should bring. They don’t look like people whose minds are fraught with deadlines, meetings and calls, and an inbox where emails tick up manically.
So on a cold December morning I’m chasing calmness, standing at the banks of the River Thames near Syon Park in the west London borough of Hounslow, and focusing hard on flinging line across the brown water, with a 9ft, surprisingly light, fly-fishing rod (with a number 5 line since you ask).
With the tide coming in over my boots and the swans sliding closer in that half-elegant, half-menacing way that they do, this doesn’t feel like the classic sport of the elite. “By no means is it now. It’s very accessible,” says Robin Elwes, of Sportfish, who is my instructor for the afternoon. A hugely experienced fisher, he is a passionate advocate for fly-fishing.
“It is easy to pick up. It takes all ages, it takes all personalities. “There’s an awful lot of men who do it, and I wish there were more women and I wish a lot more children would turn to it and get themselves off their phones or laptops or whatever.”.