Tom Fort, I think, is too happy a man to be a great fishing writer. There is a sense of equable and amiable melancholy around his memoir of journeys through Eastern Europe with a fishing rod, which flattens out both the delights and the abyssal disappointments of a fisherman’s life. He has travelled around the region twice. The first time was in 1990, in the immediate aftermath of the revolutions and the fall of communism; nearly twenty years later he returned to see what had changed.

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