Gemini
CC Moore
Oli Davies Columnists
Image

A Wider Perspective - Part One

What’s life on the road with Alan Blair really like? Oli Davies reveals all, as he also talks about that storm at Lake Bled, his passion for photography and much more…

There’s a storm raging beyond the double glazing at Horton Lodge, but you’d barely notice inside. Oli Davies—his muddy green Air Maxes kicked off to one side—reclines deep into one of the luxurious leather sofas and is relaxed and articulate. He’s a full-time angler these days but is keenly aware that like the two trees that came crashing down during our interview, things can change in an instant. From Euro-trip detours to forks in his career path, Oli appears to take everything in his stride…

1. Life As A Full-Time Angler

When did you make the move from Nash’s head of photography to full-time angler, and how did it come about?
“In recent years I’ve become a bit better known. At Nash, we’d sometimes struggle to get the more well-known anglers, and we kind of manufactured a couple in-house, me included. A couple of years ago, I was struggling a little, personally, and Kev and Alan offered me the chance to fish full-time. That seemed to be a one-way ticket, though, and if I took that opportunity, I felt there’d be no going back, and I’d not be able to return to my previous role, so I actually declined the first offer.

“I carried on for another year, and then the pandemic came along. We’d hired quite a lot of new staff and the videography team was expanding. The lads were doing really well, and then I thought it was the time to do it. There wasn’t really a specific time, as such; it just happened. One day Alan and I had a discussion and we agreed terms. My services remain available if they still require them, and I continue to supply content for them, but now I just get paid to go fishing a little bit more.”

Is it tricky working with someone you know really well, like Alan? Does he put his boss’s hat on and tell you to do certain things?
“D’you know, he’s the easiest person in the world to work with, because he would never ask you to do something he’d not be prepared to do himself. He will knuckle down and graft. If the toilet needs cleaning, the walls need painting or if there’s sweeping up to be done, he’ll do it, and it’s never, ever a problem. When he asks you to do something, it’s a team effort. He’s a proper dynamo and he’s inspiring to work with, really inspiring.

“I don’t actually get that much time to work with Alan these days, not on the filming front, but we fish together occasionally and we did a shop day together last week. It’s always good to get together, and when you’re friends with someone, it flows easily and you slip into ‘team’ mode, and that makes life easier for both of us.”

You’re a full-time angler, and for most readers that would seem like the dream job and there couldn’t be anything better. Is that how you see it, now you’ve made the change? Or are there downsides, and is it difficult to stay motivated?
“Is it the dream job? Of course. I don’t have to set my alarm anymore. During the last couple of weeks I’ve been doing a bit of barbel fishing. I can have a lie-in, and yes, I’ve been trying to catch a few carp. I think what people might not appreciate, however, is that there is a degree of pressure on you to perform. It’s like any job, though, and if you’re paid to do something, you’re expected to deliver. I don’t want to be paid in this role for a year and then be discarded; I need to make it work over a longer time frame.

“Nash has become a little more corporate during the last few years and they’ve introduced things that other companies may have had for a while, like performance reviews. I was contacted and asked to attend a performance review with Lee and Alan. I phoned Alan and asked whether I really needed to go in for it. ‘No,’ he said, ‘we just didn’t want you to feel left out.’ [laughing]

“I’m in a happy position, but I have to self-justify. I’m not the kind of person to rest on my laurels, and I’m aware that things move and times change. I have to get out there, and I have to keep making it happen.”

Has that brought about any changes in your angling? I know you have an affinity for Horton, where we are now, and that you’re unlikely ever to walk away from the water, but does what you do now change what tickets you choose? Do you now have to factor in the stock of a water, perhaps, and consider whether a venue will produce enough bites, given that you’re now a full-time angler?
“I’m quite keen not to become a full-time angler as some might see the role. I don’t want to bivvy up for five, six, seven days a week. That might be the perception of what a typical, full-time carp angler is, but that’s not always the case. Martin Bowler’s a case in point. Whilst he’s a full-time angler, he doesn’t remain in one place and doesn’t campaign-fish. He moves around, he fishes for different species and he creates content. For most people, I’d say that’s much more aspirational.

“For me, it’s not about having to go fishing, it’s about going fishing when you want to, and about being able to pick and choose, and being on the bank at the best times. It’s about being able to choose the right species, too. For me, it’s about considering the parameters of performance, and as long as I can produce the goods, I’ll have that freedom, and that’s the dream

 “I’m still very keen, and that reflects in my fishing… I’m still very much a short-session carp angler. Whilst I could go all week, I choose to fish bite-sized sessions, and that approach relates with normal people. That’s the way I’ve fished for twenty years. I’ve not changed, I just do a little bit more of it.”

Image

Your outlook hasn’t changed, then and you’re still the same Oli Davies who went fishing after work…?
“If anything, I’m even more keen to make those short sessions work, but no, I haven’t changed.”

What’s the longevity of a full-time angler?
“You tell me. We touched on it earlier, and I just don’t know. Will we still be allowed to fish in twenty to thirty years’ time? I don’t know, what with the way the world’s going, with the vegan society that’s coming. It’ll arrive… maybe not in our generation, but it’ll arrive at some point, and then things like fishing will come under a lot more scrutiny.

“I hope to carry on for the next five years, say, for as long as I knuckle down and continue to inspire people. It’s not just about going fishing, though. It’s about taking beautiful pictures, visiting different places, showing angling in a positive light and persuading others to go fishing. That’s my job, really, to make other people want to go fishing as much as I want to.”

Do you have a product-development remit? You’re on the bank as much as any of the anglers at Nash, perhaps, so do products come through you? Do you supply ideas, or is it less about the product?
“It’s not necessarily about coming up with ideas, but I do get stuff to test. I’m putting a few items through their paces at the moment. We’re testing them for durability and making final tweaks to them.

“There’s a degree of that kind of thing, certainly. Alan used to do a lot of it, because there are some things you can’t hand out to sponsored anglers, certain things that have to be kept in-house. For the development of items such as these, I think it’s crucial to involve a team member. I don’t mean a team member in the sense of 50p off a kilo of boilies, I mean a member of staff who’d use the stuff regularly.”

Have you considered doing tutorials?
“I have to say that I really don’t like them. I’ve been asked, and I’m sure if I pushed myself I could deliver them, both from a photographic point of view, and in terms of angling. It would leave a bit of a nasty taste in my mouth, though, to charge the amount of money that’s involved with these things. I know it’s no different, say, to a golf pro or a driving instructor, but I just don’t like it. I’d rather just chat to someone for nothing, and perhaps fish next door to them as we share our wisdom between us. To me, that’s what it’s about.

“It’s the same with match fishing. That’s something else I’m not really a big fan of, because I feel you lose the essence of angling as the element of competition is brought in. Again, that for me is not what fishing’s about. I know a lot of anglers make a living from tutorials, and fair play to them, but they’re not for me.”

What’s your angling allowance, so to speak? During a typical week, how many nights might you do?
“It’s totally flexible. For instance, I could be away filming for two weeks or have nothing on. My partner has a normal, nine-to-five job, pretty much, so what I’ve been trying to do is spend my weekends with her. Before, when I wasn’t working, I had to split my free time between my relationship and my passion for angling. Then, I might’ve snatched an overnighter or grabbed a short session when she was doing something else. Now, I don’t have to cram it all in like I once did, and that’s the biggest blessing. Angling full-time gives you that flexibility—I hope she appreciates it. [laughing]

“I have got a couple of weekends coming up where I’ll be at shows. It’s not just about fishing as there are always other commitments. Like everyone at Nash, I’m prepared to muck in when something needs doing, like unloading a lorry at the warehouse. That is what working with Nash is about.”

From the outside looking in, it does seem like Nash go to shows mob-handed. Alan also pushes these events on social media, so is it part of the Nash ethos that you get out there and meet anglers?
“Yes, and we enjoy it. I know Alan in particular loves it. He loves meeting people. I don’t know whether it was covered in the CARPology interview with him, but in a previous life, he was a college lecturer. He has an educational background, perhaps, and a desire to share knowledge with others. He’s a salesman, yes, but he’s also much more. By engaging with anglers, you can develop a much longer relationship with customers, and it’s an important part of what we do.

“The pandemic has really affected shows, obviously, but we’re doing the Northern Angling Show next week. I don’t think there’ll be many other companies there who’ll have a reasonable-sized stand.”

The shows can be quite arduous. Anglers will come along and grab their bargains, but you have to get there early to set everything up, and take it all down again late on the Sunday, possibly with a hangover…
Usually with a hangover… it’s almost compulsory! It’s almost the hidden side of things. I’ve done quite a few, and we usually get there two days before for the Northern Angling Show. We’ll have a big stand and it takes a good while to set it up. It’s two days of preparation and you can’t being doing any last-minute stuff. When you have, say, ten bivvies to assemble and pretty much half your range, it’s quite a logistical undertaking.

“The shop days are similar, although they’re on a smaller scale. They’re long days, or if you’re travelling, a long two or three days. Alan’s started doing two- or three-hour sessions, visiting several shops in a day, a bit like a DJ working on a Saturday night who visits different clubs. That way, he gets to meet more people.”

Image

2. Life On TV 

It must be quite satisfying to meet youngsters who’ve seen you on YouTube, perhaps…?
“I still can’t get my head around them asking for selfies, or to sign stuff like a reel or a hat—I haven’t been asked to sign a part of anyone’s anatomy yet, but I’m sure it’ll happen one day! [laughing] It’s the culture we live in, though, the culture of the celebrity. I do get a lot of messages from people I’ve met. I try and reply to them all, but sometimes it’s just not possible. They do appreciate it, though, and they appreciate that we take the time to do what we do. It’s fun, and I enjoy it.

“It’s always good to meet anglers who are enthusiastic, and those who come to shows or shop days do so because they love fishing. We can share our passion, and that’s great.”

Could you ever have envisaged signing reels and caps, and being asked for your autograph like on that first Eurobanx day? There were other videos before, but that film was different…
“Of course not, no. I never wanted any limelight and was quite happy being just the cameraman. Alan had previously asked me whether I wanted to do features and I’d explained that I was quite happy doing the filming. Because of our friendship, though, as cameramen and subject we had that interaction. As far as Eurobanx is concerned, I’ve just hung onto Alan’s coat-tail, really. He was the well-known angler, and for me it was about the filming and the photography. I’m an angler too, though, and I catch one or two when I go. I believe people may have appreciated that whilst I was there working, I also managed to nick a bite or two, and they saw it as aspirational.”

Was there a plan that, by the end of it, you were going to have a blockbuster video? Or was it more a case of filming it and seeing what was produced?
“No. I can’t really remember, but Alan had become obsessed with this park lake, Tête d’or. We had to go somewhere on the way down and it just turned into a mini-road trip. Winston, who was head of Nash TV at the time, had asked us to take a camera and do a little bit of filming. I hadn’t done much filming before I joined Nash, and he showed me what my DSLR could do. It was quite a leap from, say, rubbish camcorder footage, and I embraced that. I was willing to learn and threw myself into it.

“Editing was Wilson’s skill, and he put something together that was really watchable. It’s endured, too, and I could never have imagined how popular the series would become.”

With the first Eurobanx video being so brilliantly received, the second had to be better, and the third had to be better than the second. Is that how you saw it?
“That is Alan’s modus operandi. You never stand still, and whatever you do next has to be an improvement, and a level up from what you’ve done before. Every film, then, became more of an adventure, a longer one, with more venues featured and grander in scope. It became a monster, and including the party at the end, the last one was 19 days!”

Did you relish the challenge, or was it a slog?
“Oh, of course it was a slog. They were the hardest two weeks’ work of the year, with over seventy hours’ driving. Then there was the pressure of filming it all, and the pressure to catch one or two. We probably averaged about three hours’ sleep a night over the course of the trip, and we had to keep everything charged, too. There was so much pressure, because it ended up being such a talismanic production for the company. Everyone would look forward to seeing it, so it had to be a great production.

“In recent years Dan wanted more cameramen to come along, but I always fought against it. The essence for me, was that it was just two guys with a camera. Yes, it would have been better filmed, but would it be a better film? No, it couldn’t be. With another person, there’d have been the need for another vehicle, and that would’ve just totally changed it. It was always a compromise between capturing, rather than destroying the moment.”

Were you able to enjoy the experience at the time, or could you enjoy it only once all the editing had been done and the film produced, with your memories on screen in front of you?
“You couldn’t enjoy it immediately. The editing might take up to nine months, and so you had to almost forget about it. I used to think to myself, In a week’s time, you’ll be looking back wondering where the time’s gone. That was how I used to get through it all, when I was exhausted, or when things had perhaps been difficult. It’s not always plain sailing when you’re on the road with someone. Alan and I never argued, but I’m sure there were times when he’d had enough of me, and I’d had enough of him.”

Like Sweden, perhaps…?
“Oh yes, there were a few moments that resonated with people, I’m sure. I felt like a parent, and I’m sure he felt like a toddler at the time. I was so cross with him, I really was, but I was worried for him. We were in another country, we didn’t have any money… it was crazy. He wanted to go and find a cashpoint and I said, ‘Alan, you’re not going to have time.’ I’d seen how militarily efficient they were when it came to loading and unloading the ferry. I waited as long as I could. I was the last person on the ferry and they were waving me off. I had to drive off without him and had assumed that he’d disembarked as a pedestrian. He’d actually walked off behind me, though, and we just kept missing each other. We lost each other for about five hours, and I had both his phones with me in the van. All Alan had was a credit card.

“He tried to use a phone, and the only way he could persuade someone to let him do so was by booking into a hotel room… I mean, who remembers phone numbers these days? In the end, I took a call from him and we arranged to meet up again. It was quite an emotional reunion because I was just so relieved to see him again. ‘I told you so,’ I said, but just the once. It was out of my system then, and we got back on the road. Having cleared the air, we moved on.” [laughing]

Without accusing you of being cynical, do you ever think to yourself, I’d better get the camera rolling, this is going to make good content?
“Of course, yes. I was compos mentis enough to film the moment he got back in the van, and I filmed a rant to camera, a rant I nearly deleted. I hovered over the button, because it was a rant from me to get it all out of my system, more than anything else.”

So it was real, then?
“Most definitely. I was really angry with him at the time. Chloe, Alan’s partner, will remember it, because she was worried as well. I was so cross with him.”

Alan says point blank that he’s not a morning person, and that surviving on two or three hours’ sleep a night doesn’t come naturally. He says he really has to push himself. Can you survive on just two or three hours’ sleep yourself?
“For a short while, yes. Come three or four days in, I think your body adjusts to it, and you begin to function more normally again.

“Going back to Alan making it happen, he sets an alarm for half past two every morning. He often sleeps beyond it, though, for half an hour or an hour, and Chloe will kick him to wake him up. I feel sorry for Chloe. Can you imagine your missus setting an alarm to get herself up, and then sleeping through it? It’s more of his desire to do it, and the fact that he’ll grind it out. That’s the dynamism of Alan, rather than him jumping up and shouting, ‘I’m awake!’ It’s more sheer determination.”

Does that rub off on you?
“In another time, perhaps, he’d have been a great leader of men, and you can’t help but be inspired. You’d be embarrassed not to try. When you have someone by you, clearly working so hard, you have to pull your weight.”

Do you have to wake up at the same time to almost save face?
“No, not at all. We accept each other’s habits. He’s up early in the morning, but I’m a night owl. Alan knows not to wake me up without a cup of coffee, and I know not to keep him up all night talking and to let him go to bed early.”

So between you, you must cover the full 24hrs almost?
“Yes, we do. We’re quite a formidable combination, really. When I’m driving, he’s sleeping. When I’m sleeping, he’s fishing. It’s the full spectrum—spectrum being the operative word!” [laughing] 

From the six Eurobanx films, do you have a favourite?
“That’s difficult… I probably have favourite moments in all of them. That’s a really hard question because there were so many special moments. Everyone else’s favourite is Eurobanx 2, because of Lake Bled. For me, though, that film’s a bit of a thorn in my side. It was almost the ultimate carp-fishing moment, I’d say. It’ll always be so hard to improve on it in terms of scenery and carp-fishing experiences. It was very hard to live up to it in the subsequent films.”

How special was that storm at Bled, and the fishing? You managed to capture the atmosphere, and it was almost spine-tingling…
“Everyone involved deserves credit for that film. It’s the editing that makes the films so special. The lads take my dodgy footage and make films that are watchable, and most importantly, inspirational, so credit where credit’s due to Carl and Alex Smith, Winston Nugara at NashTV, and Dan Yeomans.”

When you were in the moment at Bled, was it as special as it came across?
“All three days’ fishing were special. All the Eurobanx films are based around dream venues, and the journey to and from them, basically. Bled was a dream in itself, and we’d already spent a week on the road by the time we arrived. We’d travelled through the Czech Republic, Austria and various other countries. The weather was fantastic, and when we got there, it was just beautiful.

“We arrived, and we had the most amazing pad by the waterside. It really was a true dream venue. We had this stunning lake in front of us, and again, the weather was just amazing. That for me was probably my favourite time, rather than, say, the third day. The weather wasn’t brilliant for carp fishing because it was so hot. I believe only two or three carp were caught by the other anglers around the lake whilst we were there, and we caught thirty-three. We didn’t have many big ones, but because it was hot, they were in the edge, and that suited our style of predatory angling. We stalked them and managed to nick quite a few bites that way.

“The final day wasn’t so good, but that middle day, when the storm rolled in, I think we had 14 fish in four hours, up to 21 kilos, which is around 46lb. By Bled standards, that wasn’t a monster, but Eurobanx has never been about big fish, it’s been about catching them, and that was a pinnacle moment.”

The film certainly popularised Bled. Although it was known to a few anglers, you were partly responsible for really putting the water on the map, and other venues you’ve visited must also have subsequently received increased attention. Do you consider any potential negative reaction from locals? Or is your attitude such that, as they’re available to fish, you’re going to go and fish them?
“Most people are very welcoming, and we’re not necessarily fishing places that are secret. There have been venues where I’ve been discreet when filming, and where we’ve been nondescript about the location. Bled, though, is a pay lake with a limited number of tickets, and at Tête d’Or it was day fishing, which made it difficult, logistically. Certain waters in Austria, for instance, were private, and we couldn’t name them.

“We’ve never really had any problems, and most local people have welcomed us. They appreciate that we’ve shown their waters in a good light, hopefully.”

For someone who can’t sit still for more than five minutes, how on earth did you do a week at Rainbow?
“That was really hard! [laughing] Even by the end of the first day, I wanted to walk round and investigate it, but I was stuck in my peg. Once I’d got my head around the fact that I had to fish for what I had in front of me, I managed to catch a couple. Once I’ve caught what I feel is there to be caught, though, I’m not very good at setting out a long-term plan. After I’d caught the carp in front of me, I felt as though I had nothing to do for the rest of the week! [laughing] It was good fun, mind, because it is an amazing place. Simon Crow’s good company, we had a laugh and we both caught big fish, but sitting still was hard.

“The Island is one place I’ve turned down since, because I just didn’t want to be stuck on there for a week—I can’t think of anything worse! I see anglers fishing from boats on big lakes, and they describe it as freedom. For me, it’s not, it’s a floating prison, and as exciting as it looks, it’s not my kind of angling.”

Has your approach, then, always been to stalk, to walk miles in a day, and to fish short sessions, or was there a pivotal moment, or an angler who led you down that path?
“I’ve never had load of time to fish, and I think it’s been just a gradual progression. I’ve worked full-time, and like most readers, I’ve had responsibilities. You can’t just go fishing all the time, and I think the days of the full-time ‘bank tramp’ are long gone. Who wants to be poor, have an album full of photos of big fish, but have nothing else in their life? You have to balance it. As much as I enjoy my fishing, I’ve got a house, a partner, my cats and a life outside fishing.

“Being a bailiff on Horton has had a bit of an influence. Like everyone else, I used to race down on a Friday evening to get a swim. I got to the point, though, where I didn’t want to take a swim from a paying punter. I’d rather let them have a swim while I go and look for another opportunity elsewhere. I still wanted to catch carp, but I realised that I wanted to go about it slightly differently. I wanted to make the most of opportunities that others weren’t that interested in, like sticking a single rod in the edge for the night if there’s a chance of a bite.

“Del Smith, who was also a bailiff here at Horton had an influence, as he did everyone on the water. He was a bit like a fishing dad to me, I guess. Over the years, his own angling changed too, and I’d say we all bounced ideas off each other. It became more about watching, and walking round and baiting, and it became about taking as little time to catch one as possible, once the rods were in the water. I remember one year he was really proud of himself because he said that not one of his twelve captures had taken more than an hour once his rod was in the water, and some had taken no longer than five minutes. That was over ten years ago, and that was when I started to adopt the same philosophy.”

Image

How long, then, does your association with Horton go back?
“I believe I first fished Kingsmead in 1999. I was a bailiff for Leisure Sport Angling at the time, on one of the sections of the Ouse. The ticket allowed me to fish the group waters on Leisure Sport’s books. A mate and I decided to have a look at Kingsmead. Things were very different back then. There were two or three thirties in there, but most of the year, they weren’t even at that weight, so there certainly weren’t the numbers of big fish in there that there are now. That was the start. I got to know the bailiffs, and the fishery manager, Viv, and they offered me a bailiff’s ticket at Horton. I’ve been here at Horton ever since, on and off. I guess it’s my angling home, if you like.”

How often do you visit Horton without your rods?
“We have to walk around once each week, and there’s also ongoing work on site, so sometimes I’ll not get my rods at all. I’ll dip in and out, but if the conditions are right and there’s a chance, I’ll fish. I don’t take it too seriously, or campaign-fish. I want the fishing to last, so I just chip away at it. New carp go in every year and the stocking programme ensures that fish are coming through all the time. As long as I don’t catch too many—and there’s no chance of that—there’ll always be something to fish for.”

You’re not giving it 100 per cent all the time at Horton?
“No, never. The fishing is just part of the experience.”

You’ve probably seen more venues than most anglers will do in their lifetime, but is there one venue that stands out for you, perhaps a place that you visited just once, or even somewhere you spent, say, three seasons on?
“Redmire will always be pretty special because I grew up reading about it. As much as though it wasn’t what it once was when I visited, it still had that magic and that vibe, even at Christmas. I’ll always love Horton, and Bled will always be special.

“If there’s one lake that I could revisit, though, it would be Harga in Sweden. It’s in the middle of a pine forest, and Sweden’s a beautiful country. It’s in the middle of nowhere, you can’t hear anything except the wind in the trees as there are no roads for miles. It’s beautiful, really beautiful. Some might not appreciate it, but we’re often at venues for only a few hours. We spent sixteen hours at Harga, and I’d really like to go back there. We were fortunate to catch a few whilst we were there, but I don’t believe I got to really experience the place as I’d have liked to.”

How easy is it finding these venues? Nash have a network of angling consultants, so are they crucial when it comes to planning trips?
“Yes, absolutely. I take no credit, and accept no responsibility for organising the trips. That’s all down to Alan, what he is and the control freak he is. He wouldn’t trust me to do it as well as he does, and so everything’s down to him. I would just rock up, almost not knowing where we were going. I’d just stick the addresses in the satnav, and I’m quite happy with that. I’m confident in that I don’t feel the need to do loads of homework, so to speak. I know that when we turn up, we’ll deal with what we have in front of us.

“The logistics of the trips, though, were really detailed, and planning was done almost down to the minute. There’d be pages and pages of notes, and we’d arrange to meet people at specific times. We’d stay pretty true to the plans and remain on schedule, which you have to with these things. You have borders to cross and your fishing time’s limited, so if you stay too long somewhere, it has a knock-on effect and it takes it out of the next venue.”

Having fished all over Europe, would you say that Swedish carp are the same as carp from the Colne Valley?
“Yep. Carp will eat pink Citrus pop-ups on a Multi Rig all over Europe.”

So you’ve never found yourself flummoxed by their behaviour on these trips?
“No, it’s mainly only time that’s an issue. We might have spent a while finding them, but then we’d catch them quite quickly. Carp are carp. I think we get a bit too bogged down in the detail sometimes. The most important thing is location, and if you can find them, usually you can catch them.”

Have you missed the road trips?
“I have. The last two years have been strange, for all of us. Whilst Eurobanx might have run its course, because of Covid I didn’t go abroad for almost a full year. There’ve been no shows, no foreign trips, and life’s been a bit strange, as I say.”

Has a line been drawn under Eurobanx, then?
“A line’s been drawn under the series, yes, although it may be a dream of Alan’s to return and do another one without warning. It’s a bit like Police Academy 7, perhaps, if readers remember what that was like. We didn’t catch big fish by European standards, but there comes a point, I think, where the vehicle gets a bit tired, so to speak. I think there are other fishing videos that could take note of that, too. They should quit whilst they’re ahead—or not, perhaps. It’s really easy to flog a format. Whilst Alan and I will fish together again, it won’t be in the same format.”

You definitely have that camaraderie, though, and you recreated that Top Gear-style, or travelog-type production. Could you see yourselves doing the same thing in America, perhaps, or around Britain for another franchise series?
“I don’t know about a franchise. We have another trip coming up in a couple of months, and we also have shop days lined up. I’d never say ‘never’, but it’s up to the production guys and what they might want to put their time and energy into. We’ll see.”

Read Part Two here!

Image
Signup to Carpology