The Norwegian Government has shut down salmon fishing on some of the country’s most storied rivers. Should it serve as a warning to us all? Tom’s grandfather had a fine death. He was discovered lying on a gravel bank of the river Orkla in Norway, his hat tilted to shield his face from the sun. His fishing rod rested neatly beside him, and next to that was a bright 42lb salmon. The family theory is that after fighting such a fish, at such an age, he decided to take a nap and drifted peacefully from this life into the next. He was repatriated back to North Norfolk and cremated. Half his ashes were buried in the local churchyard, alongside the 42lber, and the other half were fired out of his punt gun over the marsh. Tom’s grandfather was one of many British sportsmen who traveled to Norway to fish. From the 1830s until the outbreak of the Second World War, British grandees would set sail each June, making the fjords their home for a month or more. And boy, did they catch some salmon. Victorian and Edwardian sporting literature is chock full of enormous silver fish battled under the midnight sun. These aristocratic tourists become known to the locals as the ‘salmon lords’. They bought farms, fishing beats and built lodges, many of which are still owned by their descendants. Most of these lodges remain fishing meccas today, attracting well heeled salmon anglers from around the world.