Alright, let me tell you about fishing the Glomma – and why you’re gonna want a local showing you around. Funny thing is, I spent my first trip there stubbornly refusing to hire a guide. Wasted two days casting to empty water before I caved. Best decision ever.

See, the Glomma’s got these moods – one day the brown trout are slamming dries like they’re late for dinner, next day they’re sulking in deep slots where only a weighted nymph’ll get their attention. And grayling? Man, the way they strike is downright rude sometimes. Point is, we know where they’ll be and what’ll piss them off enough to bite. Even got a few secret flies that... well, let’s just say they work.

Oh, and we’ll snap photos of you wrestling that 20-incher – way better than the blurry selfies I used to take with my phone balanced on a rock.

Where to crash?
Koppang Camping’s right on the riverbank – same folks who run the guiding. Woke up there last summer to mist rolling off the water and thought, "Yep, this’ll do." Hot showers, decent coffee... paradise with Wi-Fi, basically. Check koppangcamping.no, but fair warning: book early.

Or go fancy
Glomma House is for when you want the river to yourself. Private stretch, cozy as hell, and the kind of place you’ll brag about later. Peek at glommahouse.com and try not to drool on your keyboard.
What’s biting?

Brown trout that fight like they’ve got a personal grudge
Grayling that’ll make your drag scream (or your leader snap, if you’re me on a bad day)

Seriously though, just call the campsite reception. We’ll get you sorted. And if you lose a fly to a tree? Welcome to the club. Bring beer.