Bob-a-job week

So the football has been disappointing, annoying, depressing, noisy and inept and that's just England. This morning I noticed England flags in the road, torn from cars and symbolically strewn in the road (but not quite the end of the road). I've also noticed that I suddenly know a lot of Scottish people, even here in Manchester the Council are having to consider hiring extra council workers to cement over all the cracks in the pavement that our tartan friends have suddenly crawled out of.

This week I have been in Ireland with work and one of the first things I noticed was USA flags adorning pubs on my journey from Dublin to Shannon. Now I might just be paranoid but I'm beginning to think that they don't want England to do well. Just a nagging suspicion.......I suppose I'm beginning to understand how it might feel to be a Man United Supporter.

Football aside, I've had a very rewarding and successful week work-wise and it's now just two weeks until we leave for France for our Summer break. My pal Paul is flying over for our second week so we can spend some time fishing for Carp. We've fished together for as long as we have been friends (over 30 years) but lately real life keeps getting in the way and we are overdue some boyish banter and child-like japery.

On Thursday night we managed a few hours on the River Ribble near Preston, a beautiful stretch near a village called Osbaldeston. I'm a bit out practice and the lack of rain meant the river was extremely low. I didn't fancy our chances but was happy to immerse myself in the stunning nature. Paul had other ideas though and was soon landing his first barbel. Naturally he was delighted and he really felt this might be one of those sessions where things just went right.

Those hopes were dashed however when out of nowhere a horde of Cub Scouts descended like a swarm of bees into our swim, splashing around in the river, throwing stones and being incredibly noisy. Despite remonstrating with their scout leader they continued for about an hour before trooping off. Presumably they had gone to collect their 'angler baiting' badges which must have been introduced since I was in the cubs. Surely they should have been taught about consideration for others and respect for nature? Seemingly not.

Paul was fuming, his chances of a bagful of fish in tatters. Me? I was torn between trying to see the funny side of things or attacking young lads with my catapult.