Not a fishing trip, but a few hours lure fishing was sneaked in. In deepest Devon for a few days, was walking the coastal path with Mrs Essex Scribbler and when we stopped to admire the view and have a drink I stumbled across a telescopic rod and a few lures in the rucksack. What a lucky find.
A 3" stick worm was set up on a Texas rig and less than five minutes later the first wrasse of the day was on the rocks. Fun on a light spinning rod.
Moved on to North Devon, near Lynmouth. In Lynmouth itself there were hoards of coffin dodgers and we were probably the youngest people in the town by about 20 years ( well, it felt like it ). The fine specimen below was slightly different from most of the pensioners in the town. This was an Essex version of the coffin dodger.
About 70 years old, resplendent in teenager's hoodie, with a print of two dragons on the back, a pair of hideous nylon joggers, white trainers, obligatory gold chain, dyed blonde hair, smoking a fag and telling his mate he was "Takin' a bleedin' liberty". Class.