Somewhat tired, we didn't get up the next morning until about 7am, and then hit Flamborough Head for a spot of sea-watching. This was not entirely successful, in part because it was a clear sunny day with visibility of around 20 miles, but also because we could not find Brett anywhere. Turns out he was there, somewhere, but he too could not conjure anything decent up. A few Terns went past, including one I felt was a Little, but too far out, and we added Guillemot and Razorbill to the trip list.
As nine o'clock approached, breakfast beckoned. Our landlady, in common with most people in Bridlington, enjoys a good Saturday night out, and told us in no uncertain terms that the earliest breakfast she would do would be at nine. For a lady of sixty-five if she was a day, she had clearly enjoyed herself a great deal, and confessed to being rather frail when we saw her a short while later. This did not stop her producing tea and coffee on demand though, followed by the world's largest breakfast. I ate the lot. To be fair I did not then eat again until about eight that evening, but I did spent a great deal of the morning groaning slightly, and clutching my enormous stomach. I may even have dropped off in the car....
Although it was tempting to return to Bempton, the car had a large puddle of coolant/Evian underneath it, so we decided it might be best to head South. Via Nottinghamshire for a well known Honey Buzzard site. Although the birds only showed between ten and twelve, they also showed almost constantly all the way through to about half-past one when we left, and more than likely continued showing. So much for local gen. As I know you are interested, this was indeed a filthy year-tick, which when I counted them up back at home, turned out to be #198. In context, at the same point last year, whilst not year-listing, I was on 245, so I am doing even better at not year-listing this year. Or I was just in denial last year perhaps? And in 2009, when I was year-listing, I had reached 269. Very pleasing indeed.
From Welbeck, we realised that it was only a detour of roughly forty miles to take in Frampton Marshes RSPB, which held a host of ticks for Nick. We decided to go for it and topped up the reserves of Evian. Another superb reserve awaited us, perfect water levels, heaps of waders. Slightly too much vegetation out in the middle, but what can you do? Finding whole and complete waders was the stuff of nightmares, but eventually we pieced together Ruff, Redshank, Wood Sandpiper, and best of all, Pectoral Sandpiper (199). The Red-necked Phalarope from the previous day had departed, and the Spotted Crake was hiding, so that was our lot, and with the thirsty car demanding more mineral water, we called it a day and nursed the car home at eighty.
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