After two weeks of traveling and training across Bosnia, the real competition finally arrived.

On September 6th, I checked into the hotel in Banja Luka. The opening ceremony was held in a local sports hall — plenty of food and drinks, a relaxed atmosphere, and a fun program to kick things off. Later that evening, everyone headed back to the hotel to tie flies for the official practice sessions the following day.

Official Practice Sessions

In the morning, I decided to head to the lake with my good friend Miro — for all practical purposes, we were a team. After a three-hour session, each of us managed to catch just one fish — both rainbows. It was hard to predict what the real competition would look like, since the event would take place in a different part of the lake where the organizers claimed the stocking was heavier.

In the afternoon we drove to the Vrbas — a massive river cutting through Banja Luka. Water levels were low because the dam upstream wasn’t releasing much. I went to practice further downstream together with the first Bosnian team. I fished for an hour and a half and landed four fish — three grayling and one chub. No one else caught anything. I broke off the fly that was producing, put it safely back in my box, and ended practice on that note.

Back at the hotel, the rest of the evening was dedicated to tying flies.

Competition Time

The draw took place the night before. We knew our sectors, but not the exact beats — those were revealed in sealed envelopes on the morning bus ride before each session. A computer handled the randomization. Personally, I’m not a fan of that system; I’d much prefer drawing our own beats on the bus.

Day One — Session One: River Sana

I drew Sector 5 on the River Sana — supposedly one of the best sectors. However, I was told that due to a protest about excessive stocking, the organizers had changed it. The new sector looked decent enough, but the imbalance across the river quickly became obvious. Some sectors were full of stocked fish — mostly browns — while others had none at all. It was clear the fish had been dumped mostly in the first few sectors. From Sector 5–6 onward, you had to rely entirely on wild fish. The draw played a huge role.

I started fishing and hooked a fish almost immediately. Shortly after, I landed a solid grayling. Overall the session began well, but the productive stretch was far too small to sustain three hours of fishing. After about an hour of nymphing, I decided to try a streamer in hopes of finding an escaped stockie. I caught one stocked brown, then switched back to nymphs. I lost only one fish during the entire session and finished with eight measured fish — mostly grayling.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough. I placed 13th out of 18. The Czech in my sector caught 54 fish on dry flies. He drew a shallow, riffly piece of water where the fish were rising all session. In my beat, not a single fish rose.

Day One — Session Two: Plivsko Lake

In the afternoon, I was on Plivsko Lake. My boat partner was a Slovak angler. We picked a starting area and gave the judge — who piloted the boat — our destination.

The weather was brutal. Strong winds made casting almost impossible. At the start signal the boats spread out, and we began fishing. I started with three streamers, which turned out to be a mistake, so I switched to two to avoid tangles.

My first hooked fish sent my adrenaline through the roof. It fought incredibly hard — only to turn out foul-hooked in the back. I admitted it myself, though I wasn’t sure the judge saw it. Shortly after, I landed my first proper fish. The trout were holding close to the bank — stocked rainbows from about a month earlier, all between 30 and 38 cm. Very strong fish.

Soon every boat realized where the fish were and the whole area got crowded. The Slovak hooked one but lost it; I managed to land a second. Then the wind grew even stronger, and fishing became nearly impossible. We moved into a sheltered bay and stayed there until the end. I caught two more fish; the Slovak lost two more and finished with zero. I ended the session with four fish — good enough for 5th place. Two anglers ahead of me also had four, but theirs were slightly larger.

Day Two — Final Session: River Vrbas

This was the nightmare session.

We arrived at the river roughly an hour and a half before the start. I set up my rods, then waited. A huge grayling — easily around 50 cm — was rising right in front of me. But twenty minutes before the start it stopped showing and never rose again.

Two anglers had fished the beat before me — an Englishman (one fish) and a Scotsman (zero). That should have been a warning.

I fished a streamer for most of the session — a big mistake. In the end, I managed to land only one fish — exactly on the 20 cm limit — and lost three more. I guess it was my turn to lose some fish after a clean first day. A few anglers also caught just one fish, but mine was the smallest, which placed me 16th. A true anchor result.

The Final Day

On the last day, I had nothing left to lose—and maybe that’s why I fished my best.
The morning put me on the River Sanica, under a sky that never stopped pouring. It rained hard, not for an hour or two, but the entire day. The kind of rain that soaks through your jacket, fills your waders, and reminds you that fly fishing is sometimes a test of stubbornness more than anything else.

And yet, unbelievably, the fish were rising.
In that downpour, grayling were coming up for size 20–22 dries, and they were taking nymphs as well. The real challenge wasn’t the fish—it was the fly. Tying on a size 22 dry with 0.07 tippet, keeping it dry, floating, perfect… and then placing it on the water without it sinking. If I managed that, the reward was immediate: a rise, a take, a fish. Over and over again.

I caught plenty of undersized fish and 22 measured ones.
The French angler in the sector above me took 25 and won it; another guy landed 22 and placed second. I finished fifth—beaten by anglers who caught fewer but bigger fish. But honestly, I was satisfied. Half my sector was a deep, impossible pool, where you could only fish streamers. Under the circumstances, I had done everything I could.

One Last Beat: River Janá

Only one session remained: the Janá.
I drew beat 16—far from ideal. Before me, the catches on that beat were 0, 0, 1, and 8 (the eight belonged to a Czech angler, which didn’t make me feel any better). If a Czech struggled, it meant he had stripped the place bare.

The judge asked me how many fish I’d be happy with.
“Three,” I told him.

The sector was good—plenty of water suited for nymphing.
Start whistle. First cast. A hit. A fish.
It couldn’t have begun better. A 31 cm grayling.

I fished the way I fish best: a small nymph, working every stone and seam with slow, careful precision. The fish were feeding. By the end I had caught 10 wild fish—grayling and brown trout—and lost another five solid grayling that shot into a fast run where I simply couldn’t control them.

For beat 16, this was more than I had dared to hope for.
On the Janá, the first three beats always took 1st, 2nd, and 3rd—they were full of stocked fish. This day was no different. The Czech, the Frenchman, and the Italian took the top spots. One competitor had eight stocked fish and slipped ahead of me.
I finished fifth again.

The End of the Championship

And so it ended.
I placed 40th out of nearly 100 anglers. It doesn’t make me happy; I know I could have done better. I made mistakes—an individualist’s fate, I suppose.

A Bosnian took first, a Frenchman second, and third place went to my friend Miroslav Katičić, which truly made me happy. In the team rankings: Italy first, Spain second, France third.

Special Thanks

I couldn’t attend the closing ceremony. Ivan aka “Kontrata”—had to head back, and he was my only ride home to Bulgaria. That’s why I want to thank him here: for the support, for coming to help, for giving me warm clothes after the soaking rain on the Sanica, and for being there through everything.
Kontra, thank you.

My gratitude also goes to my sponsor `Brother`, without whom I wouldn’t have made it to the championship. To Stari Vidri fishing club for their help. To Stefan Minchev, who put up with being driven around so he could lend a hand. To Rosen Velev, who also helped. To my parents, who’ve always supported me in everything I do.

A special thank-you to Dr. Misho, for the flies and the time he dedicated to me before the event. And to Hristo Mitrev, who kept asking about how things were going until the very end. And to everyone else who cared and followed along—if I’ve forgotten someone, forgive me.