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My name is Andy
Pearson, a reluctant resident of the sunshine resort of Spalding,
Lincolnshire, a small place hopelessly marooned somewhere between the
steaming jungle canopies
of the Fens and the idyllic, donkey nugget and kebab dappled beaches of
tropical
Eastern England.
Through
the ever downward
spiral of misery that I struggle to pass off as some kind of a
life, I've managed to drag my rucksack and rods off to a few of
the different countries of our planet in search of sun, sand, scenery and,
well,
wet fish. Along the road, I've tried as best possible to avoid (in no
particular order) getting lost, ripped off, bird flu, dysentery, nits,
sun-stroke or just
plain bewildered with varying levels of success, while remembering to smell the hops
as I aimlessly wander - because its very rude not to.
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