As with many stories of late,  it all began with the pandemic. During solitary confinement in a two-up-and-two-down terraced house in Sheffield, England, while enduring a nationwide ban on fishing, my mind began to wander. I wasn’t the only one. My girlfriend, unable to fill her time with running competitions, also deliberated on our current circumstances. For me, it was an early mid-life crisis; for her, a chance to turn her competitive spirit toward finding the best job on the market in her field.

A few months later, she had an offer on the table in Stockholm, and I was studying again. Upon hearing news of the offer, what were once pipe-dream fishing scenarios formulated while watching endless hours of Rolf Nylinder’s adventures sight-fishing crystal clear creeks to fish of a lifetime suddenly seemed like a potential reality. It didn’t take much convincing. We were moving to Sweden…

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