A trout bum clutching salmon, I could pass a single fish off as an accident, but three in succession leaves no room for manoeuvre… Caught red handed dabbling for salmon, that’s my dyed in the wool trout reputation down the swanny. A lame excuse, but we chased them very much like you do trout…and bloody good fun it was too. Close friends will be keen to learn the last three fish on this trip were silver tourists!
This well conditioned fish head and tailed on my fly…brilliant
~A handsome cock fish just about to be turned loose~
Our trip draws to a close and Icelandic custom dictates a wee tipple or three. Benni wasn’t shy when it came to pouring some sort of local liqueur. It looked like ground up lava dust to me, but thankfully tasted as smooth as a single malt