To be honest over the last few years, Les Fortinieres hasn’t featured in my plans.  and had somehow disappeared off my personal radar, that is until one of my angling friends, Graham Drewery, said that he had a week booked at Les Fortinieres, with his mate George Sinclair, and would I like to join them? It didn’t stop there, as one of my angling mates, Gary Burton, also had an invite, so we had a full party for a mid October trip.
Now when it comes to my foreign fishing, I’m not normally a party animal. I come from the selfish school of thought that thinks that the more anglers there are on the water, the harder the fishing can become …. So niggling in the back of my mind was the worry that the four of us descending on Les Fortinieres would kill it stone dead, plus mid October could see the start of the colder nights. I was really looking forward to the week, and I was sure the four of us would do our best to have a good time, but in my mind, the fishing was less certain.
We had the usual fuss beforehand. The telephone calls, and meetings, over a beer or two of course, finalizing tunnel bookings, sorting bait, checking gear, who was taking what etc. Finally the date for departure arrived, and at last we were ready to go. Living in East Yorkshire is not the best place for catching the train through the tunnel, so the alarm was set for 1-00a.m. and 2-00 a.m. saw us on the A1 heading south …. I sat between Graham and Gary in the van, vaguely awake, looking at the line of cats eyes stretching ahead of us, thinking I really am getting too old for this!
Hours later, 15 in fact, we had at last arrived. Not at Les Fortinieres, but in the nearest village, where we had rooms booked for the night. A lovely meal, a few beers, and a good night’s sleep found us early morning, eating croissants and fresh baguette and raring to go … time for our holiday proper to begin.
Les Fortinieres looked fabulous in the morning sun, and it had been fishing its head off. Good news on my concerns over the weather, not so sure on the fishing front. I wonder how many people arrive for their weeks holiday hoping that the previous party hadn’t hammered it? Mind you over the years
I’ve done my share of hammering Miller waters so I can’t complain. We spent the rest of the day unloading the van, emptying cool bags full of bait into the freezer, moving gear to swims, and generally getting organised … why do we need so much gear to catch a few fish? As George and I were pushing the trolley for the third time round to the far bank, again the thought crossed my mind …. I really am getting too old for this!
Peg wise, Gary was in the front of house swim, with Graham to his left. George and I were on the far bank. With the nice weather we thought that George and Graham would be in prime spots with access to the shallows and so it was to prove, as George was into fish soon after casting out. A great start, with fish on the first day. The first night was awesome, we all caught. Graham had zero sleep, but eight fish … stunning. Gary and I both had big thirties, and George turned into a carp catching machine, with runs at regular intervals …. the prospects for the week looked good … to say the least.
I’m not going to bore you with a blow by blow account of every fish caught, but a few fish do deserve mention. Like the 34lb cat I had, that took off across the lake at 2-00 a.m. then turned back on itself, and got my other two rods in the process. George peacefully slept through the mayhem and non stop bleeps from all by buzzers. Gary hearing the commotion from the opposite bank came round and helped me net the cat and untangle the various lines, but just as we thought we were winning, one of the rods we were untangling also roared off ….I grabbed the rod in one hand, giving Gary the landing net pole attached to the net in the margins with the cat in it, with the other …. I really am getting too old for this.
It turned out to be a thirty plus carp, which we somehow managed to net in the spare net, just as a bleary eyed George wanders over, and said ….. "what are you doing over here Gary?"
Then there was George’s first forty, his face was a picture, or the double figure pike that I swear came a metre out of the water, when I hooked it. Graham’s forty, we heard the cheering, and saw the flashes, from the opposite bank, or the stunning common he had on the last afternoon. Gary’s epic battle with a fish hooked stalking round the shallows, and from the nearby corner bay, my 28lb common which looked magnificent in the afternoon sun.
The week became a very memorable holiday for us all. Lots of lovely fish, we ended the week with 78 carp, 2 cats, and 7 pike. Lots of superb food, mostly courtesy of George, who does one of the best "stews" you’ll ever taste, and along with the odd bottle of Fischer Beer or local red wine, lots of laughs …. the week passed all too quickly!
Going late in the season can be a bit of a gamble, but for us the gamble had paid off. Only problem, it had to come to an end, and we had the long trek home in front of us. The last day was brilliant, we all caught, in amongst the leisurely packing away. We loaded the van late Friday p.m. and went to a local restaurant for our final "scoff" of the week. The food was lovely and we made every effort to do it justice.
An early night, and an early start saw us on the A20 heading north …… We’ve been back a few days now, and already there’s talk of a trip next year.
Me, I’m having a re-think …. perhaps I’m not too old after all!