• A propensity to swell around the middle (coupled with an increasingly injury-prone body)
• The reality that, if I am to still make it as a pro sportsman, I might have to settle for darts
• Back ache
• A predictable frustration with what I perceive to be a lack of manners among the “youth of today”
• Increasingly lustrous nose hair
• The sad fact that riding a scooter, even if it is just when I accompany my daughter on hers, makes me look a bit of a tool
• This truth: nearly all music made after 1998 is “just a racket”
• That just writing the last point means I’ve turned into my dad (and that I’m OK with it)

I would add grey hair to the list, but I found my first one aged 17, so I’ve had a little longer than most to adjust in that department. The point is, I’m not getting any younger. So many things around me seem to be in flux, yet there’s one thing that remains joyously, steadfastly and immovably constant – my love of fishing.

I was reminded of this just the other day when I finished making the arrangements for a fishing trip to Ireland. Even that’s not as easy as it once was – nowadays it involves a summit with my wife, the careful synchronising of diaries and protracted negotiations regarding the degree to which it is absolutely necessary I attend certain events/get-togethers etc. Available dates have to then be cross-referenced with suitable tides and availability at a chosen destination. These obstacles just make it all the more satisfying when the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Now all there is to do is sit tight, wait for October to roll round, and pray for some favourable weather. Easy, right?

Of course, that’s not all there is to it. The anticipation plays a huge part in any fishing trip. Scouring google maps, tying and buying flies, stocking up on lures, and trawling through forums for advice and inspiration are all part of the build-up. And it’s this stuff (almost as much as the trip itself) that keeps us going. It does tend to pile on the pressure though, and you have to be careful not to become obsessive in the days before you depart, checking forecasts every 10 minutes or so. The weather will do what it does, we just have to make the best of the hand we’re dealt.

This trip carries a little extra significance, as it’s an opportunity to introduce a very good friend to Irish bass fishing. There’ll be some rock-hopping and wading, lure fishing and fly fishing, the ever-present chance of running into a double-figure bass, and no doubt we’ll get belted by some good old-fashioned Irish weather.

As for my companion, he’s not a total rookie. But he could hardly be classed as an experienced fishermen and he’s the proud bearer of what must surely be the most imbalanced CV in fishing. When I suggested a fishing trip to the Florida Keys a few years back, he said yes straight away, much to my surprise. As a result, he’s in the ridiculous position of having already ticked a 100lb tarpon off his list, yet he’s probably never even seen a trout in the wild. Even better – he appears to have no idea how fortunate he is.

I expect he’ll outfish me and barely even notice. But you know what? That’ll be fine by me. Assuming it works out, I’m looking forward to seeing his reaction when he comes face to face with a truly wild, Atlantic bass.

So, a month or so from now, we’ll be standing on the western shores of Ireland, looking out over a sea that keeps going until it reaches the rocky headlands of Newfoundland – how could you not be excited? And there’s plenty to do, so if you’ll excuse me…