Back down "The Forbidden" for a very quick dusk session.
Four modest chub and several others bites in the clear, bottle green water. Certainly not perfect colour, but not gin clear.
It was cold, maybe three or four degrees, but no wind, ideal for watching the quiver.
After those chub, I baited the bream swim with a few feeder fulls of chopped worm and left it for half hour. I expected a bite straight away but the tip remained motionless for probably twenty minutes, when, out of the blue, it gently pulled round.
A very good sized bream did its best to reinforce the stereotype of the species being useless fighters.
A cracking fish though, in pristine winter condition, weighing a respectable 6lb 10oz.
By this time it was properly dark and I was freezing, so I headed back home for food and football on the radio, with the warm glow that comes from a successful session.
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