Being well travelled, you’d think by now I’d have the luggage bit down to a fine art. However, Bosnia didn’t quite work like that. Always looking to lighten the load, I trimmed my waistcoat contents to the bare minimum. With dry flies taking precedence, nymph and spider boxes were left behind. All seemed fine until one morning on the Ribink when Kris Kent and I decided a sparse waterhen bloa would be just the job to fool a shoal of stubborn grayling. Yet, fumbling about my vest, I suddenly realized where they were…whoops. Kris embarrassed me further by claiming he habitually carries everything bar the kitchen sink! Ah well…there’s always 2012 for introducing those Balkan grayling to the charms of a North Country fly…
Paul~