By Big Rik Belenger and Little Stu Dennis
The FM Trip to Shangri-La
STU – THE USUAL FARTING, burping, gulping and snoring has now become the tradition at Rik’s Mum and Dad’s house in Southampton after yet another Chinese meal has been shoved down our necks. But we were ready for the 4am wake up call for when Wol and Malc turn up and we all shufty along to the ferry at Portsmouth. A short drive of half an hour or so, accompanied with an abundance of 80’s style music for Wol and his wondrous hair-do’s, with one stop at the service station and onto the ferry port. We’re all packed in like sardines, but it’s soon ‘bon-voyage’ and we’re off. An hour into the journey and the duty free shop is causing a stir as both me and Rik wipe out the entire ship of Bacardi. We couldn’t live with the fear of running out! Ten bottles strategically placed in ‘rip off carrier bags’ later and the fear factor subsides as we settle for the trip ahead. We hit the ramp in Caen at 11:30 French time and roll the convoy on towards the lake. My truck is filled to the brim with Brad’s gear (enough for a small soviet army) me and my tackle and of course little Malc who, thinking back, I could have shoved in the ashtray! Rik’s got the Ginger one, WOL, and their kit, in with him which completes the convoy, considering that Bully and Tarquin (Rob) are driving down from Calais. The journey from Caen is no more than two hours and after 3.5 hours on the SeaCat from Portsmouth it’s a breeze. Lovely roads, no traffic and for once no tolls whatsoever as we pull into the gates of Cas-en-Lac and then…..IT HITS US……!!!!!! You hear the terminology used far too much these days unfortunately, but once again it feels so apt when I say “I thought we’d all died and gone to heaven”; carp heaven anyway. Not in all my years fishing, and I speak for the other guys too, have we seen anything as beautiful as what unfolded before our very eyes. Meandering landscape encapsulating 20 acres of the finest looking water yet to be fished by the FishingMagic crew. As you visit their website you’ll see both the pictures and the lake map which look superb, but do not do this forgotten venue any justice in the slightest. In fact I am pleased it’s seemingly undersold on their website because if all the real beauty and crown jewels were portrayed in their true light then we may not have got on there in the first place! RIK – And with Brad being on the phone and pacing the banks for the first six hours of us arriving, it was no great surprise to hear that his wife was en-route to collect him first thing on the Sunday morning. Our FM trips to France usually end up with somebody sobbing morosely, but it’s normally after they’ve had a few shandies. Strange to see somebody doing it sober – but I digress. Our positions around the lake were set. Malc the Smurf was set up on the sunny point. Now the excuses. Day time temperatures of 90 degrees plus and the water temp at 11 o’clock at night was 80 degrees. So it was obvious the fish weren’t going to be playing ball. So if the fish weren’t going to be cooperate at the opposite end of the camera lens, then surely we could rely on Wol to do the honours. He’s always good for a few choice camera shots in uncompromising positions, usually after a gallon or two of hock. So what of Wol? Amusing? Yes. Conversational? Yes. So drunk that he ended up urinating over his own bedchair and sleeping naked in a tree? NO! He behaved. All bloody trip. What a major disappointment. Oh well, there’s always next year. Who else? We always manage to get Bully naked and photograph his ginger German and this year was no exception. The reasons why may change, but the photos are always there as proof. They say a picture paints a thousand words, well here’s a 6,000 word thesis on the evils of alcohol. STU – I’m afraid to say that the fishing was slow. But this certainly wasn’t down to the fish not being there. They were crashing in front of me and tight in the corner all night and all day. However, it was very slow due to a major lift in both air and water temperature. I managed to sneak four out in the week with the best at 40lb 4oz, and even in the soaring temperature these fish fought harder than I for one have ever experienced. The lunges were truly awesome. Rik managed a couple as well with his biggest at 39lb and the rest of the poor sods blanking. They all worked extremely hard at their fishing (apart from Bully who slept all week) but it just wasn’t to be. The venue was out of this world, the bailiffing second to none, the shower ‘top notch’, the amount and size of fish in abundance, all with a perfect view, but they just weren’t having it! Now I don’t know about you, but us lot are all starting to get on a bit now and the comforts of home are always calling. With this in mind, we’d made up our minds that we weren’t going to rough it any more. With the swims backed by the accessible road we’d already unloaded our three-sided gazebo, our gas BBQ, our double stoves, fridges and every cooking utensil imaginable! I think it’s fair to say that we all ate well out there with a top of the range Thai curry and a vegetarian asparagus and leak risotto. The token BBQ came out and it’s gotta be said when it came to booze and food we were spoilt! Our resident ‘self bragged’ chef Bully made up something that can only be described as close to scrambled rat, but all the same it was perfectly edible. One of the highlights of the week, apart from the surroundings, the atmosphere and, more importantly, the company, was the day Malcolm felt a little under the weather (cough-cough). I think it’s fair to say that we’d all had a few and within an hour or so of me necking copious amounts of Bacardi we were partying at Rik’s swim. Rods were in and the music was up nice and loud. The sun was shining and we were away. (One of the benefits of booking a lake exclusively to your group is that you can reel in, turn up the music and get on one without offending anyone else on the lake – OR SO WE THOUGHT!). Within an hour or so of us starting our party, John the bailiff was on a frog march round to our swim to sternly request we cut it out. Now, although John is a bit of a lump and a tad punchy for his 78 years bless him, there was little more he could do than laugh when he turned up and watched the flash git Rik constantly and accurately spod to about 120 yards whilst drunk and dancing like Baloo in the original jungle book. After reprimanding us all severely for about four hours, John too left a little worse for wear. I recall his words being, “I’ve never drunk Bacardi before,” as he staggered off left to right and mostly in the bushes. So having fished a very wide variety of venues across France for a large number of years, I can honestly say that we’ve found the water that we’re going to call our home for years to come. Everything about it is right for us, having been deluded and deceived previously, at last we’ve found a lake that offers everything we need in a carp fishing holiday venue. It’s a good looking mature water, it’s got very good access all around the lake, all swims produce, it holds some gorgeous looking and large fish, the bailiffs know their stuff and other than not being able to handle their drink, they’re sensible and honest. The bailiffs are also the owners, so they want you to enjoy yourself, have a good time and catch some fish. The owners can also supply fresh baits for you if you need them: mention FishingMagic when you book and John will give you discount on your bait. (His squid and octopus is pretty damn good). This might sound like a sales pitch on a French carping venue, but we’re not being paid for this, it’s a real review, by real anglers, who don’t want you to waste money and valuable time fishing waters that aren’t all they say they are. Choosing a good venue to spend your week away is a bit of a lottery, but we believe that our six numbers have just come in. |
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