Faro for the weekend - Sunday and Trip List - March 2025

It had continued to rain overnight and the breeze was still very fresh. Needing to be back at the airport for about 5.30pm we could either bird our way back along the coast the same way that we had come, stopping at the sites that we had missed out or been unable to find. Or we could quickly spin up to Castro Verde, perhaps a couple of hours away in the car, and explore an entirely different habitat of rolling plains and steppe. With 76 species on the list at the end of Saturday and a strong desire to get that up to 100, as well as with my Portugal list in mind, we chose the second option. 

But first, having come all this way, we went down to promontory at Cabo de Sao Vicente to look at the sea. It was beautiful down by the lighthouse, bright sunshine making the water aquamarine, alternately clouds turning it dark teal. Sheltering from the wind along the walls of the compound we wondered idly if we could see any Gannets. We could! In fact we could see a lot more than that, hundreds, and there were ducks too with several flocks of Common Scoter going west part the headland and a small party of Wigeon. Shearwaters were what we were really after of course, and although pretty distant we managed to get on some Balearics tracking west. Better than that, a much larger Shearwater a little closer in, with the Gannets and whilst smaller, actually not that far off them in size. It gleamed white below, brown above, and held its wings in a gentle arc, not even flapping once. Of course we couldn't at that range determine whether this was Scopoli's or Cory's, but eBird has the useful option to put down one or the other. This was when a scope would have been really handy! Feeling we likely didn't have much more to gain from the sea we picked our way inland, stopping for a friendly Stonechat and finding a couple of Black Redstart and a Blue Rock Thrush on one of the fortifications nearby.

Stonechat

Sardinian Warbler

Slightly north of the promontory the habitat transitions very rapidly to something akin to steppe. Taking a side road on the way back to Sagres paid dividends almost immediately with coveys of Red-legged Partridge, Corn Buntings everywhere, a farm with Little Owls sheltering in a ruined barn, and a pair of Little Bustard working their way along a grassy ridge.

After breakfast at Vila do Bispo and getting soaked for nothing more than a few Great Tits we regained the main road and made tracks for Castro Verde. We stopped along the way of course, and so it wasn't until midday that we finally made it, which was a poor effort considering we had expected to be there at 10am. This is the way. It was good immediately, and in much better weather. Hoopoe, Red Kite and Booted Eagle were all at our first stop, and Raven, Egyptian Goose and Zitting Cisticola at our second. Although there was no rain our progress was significantly limited by flash flooding with several tracks into good habitat completely flooded by overflowing streams. The trouble is that we only discovered this after driving for reasonable distances and in this way we contrived to waste a lot of what little time we had. On one of these pointless one-way trips we got a Black Kite, and on another a group of Black-bellied Sandgrouse and some Little Bustard. Iberian Shrikes started to appear with increasing frequency, we heard a couple of Quail, and after a long detour to get to a birding spot we blew it big-time by inadvertently flushing three Spanish Imperial Eagles feeding on a dead sheep. So gutting to see these birds flying off, but we had just not known they were there. Somewhere along the way we jammed a male Hen Harrier and Short-toed Eagle - these hills are sensational for Raptors. I'd like to spend much more time here, it reminded me quite a lot of Extramadura.

Not helpful!

We returned to Faro on the N2, possibly a mistake as it was one of windiest and twisty roads I have ever driven, and as such was painfully slow. Much better probably to take the more boring but much quicker A2 to the west. Still, we didn't miss the flight and even managed to add Jay and Flamingo to the list from the airport. 

Faro for the weekend - Saturday - March 2025

Mick and I met at Gatwick at some ungodly hour on Saturday morning, I think I had to get up at 3am in order to make it, but even so you don't arrive in Portugal until mid-morning and you can only really get an hour of birding in before lunch once you have gone through immigration and picked up the car. We had our work cut out but felt we were equal to the task of seeing as manys as possible during the portion of the day that was left. 

A false start near the airport saw us driving down what eventually turned into a footpath and then a fence. This is the risk of relying purely on a satnav. This necessitated a slow and ignominious retreat in reverse until we could do an eighty-point turn to face forwards again and regain the road. There was then a second false start when the next birding location was down an undrivable track which in any event had a chain across it.... You can't beat planning things without local knowledge based simply on eBird pins! Sure, somebody has been birding there, but they know how to get in, or approach from a completely different direction. Rather than work out how on earth one accessed these places we just gave up and went to the next one, arriving to clear skies that looked like that had the distant potential to turn ominous.

Third time lucky. We arrived at the PN Ria Formosa - Ludo at around 11am and this time could actually get in. We had to dump the car and walk a fair way, annoyingly seeing a few cars drive straight past us once we were on foot, but at least we were finally birding, albeit in a brisk breeze. This was a great site, stuffed with birds, and even without a scope we were able to pick up a good selection of waders, though admittedly some had to be identified on the back of the camera. Dunlin and Little Stint were probably the most numerous, but there were plenty of Ringed Plover, Kentish Plover, a single Ruff and a single Greenshank. Marsh Harriers hunted over the pools, and a colony of White Stork and Grey Heron were present in some tall trees on the Marsh. My Portugese list really took off here, all sorts of frankly common birds that I'd somehow not bumped into elsewhere simply due to habitat. Ducks, waders, small birds like Sardinian Warbler and Zitting Cisticola. I was struck by rich the habitat was, and seemingly large parts of the coast are like this.

Large parts of the coast are also golf resorts. Not just a golf course here and there, but extensive developments with multiple courses, gigantic villas, small golf villages and interminable roundabouts. Our next stop was only just on the other side of the Salinas, but took forever to get to as we had to bypass 72 holes just to access the next stretch of marsh. Here we added Avocet, Black-winged Stilt, Whimbrel and Grey Plover in short order, as well as a Spoonbill and several Little Egret. Luckily we remained close to the car at this site as suddenly the skies darkened and a torrential downpour ensued, a pattern that was to be repeated for the rest of the day as a relentless series of squalls pushed in driven by the westerly wind.

A few thousand golf courses later, at the Canicais de Vilamoura, we spotted our first Black-winged Kite hovering over a par four, and then two Osprey over a water obstacle. A Booted Eagle soared majestically over the clubhouse. A short distance further on, at the Dom Pedro Laguna (surrounded by bunkers), a small mixed flock of Pochard and Red-crested Pochard loafed alongside hole 15 with Glossy Ibis, some Little Grebe worked the margins with a Moorhen, and a rare Mute Swan ignored everything. Serin were in the pine belt, and our first Cetti's Warblers sang from the scrub. Further on, where the golf courses inexplicably ran out, we drove a narrow track alongside some waste ground and came across our first (and it turned out, only) Black-headed Weaver, as well as yet more Booted Eagle and Osprey. Despite the development the area remains rich in birds, one can only wonder what it was once like before the arrival of the international golfer.

By now it was 3pm and we made scant progress westwards since arriving, with perhaps the best site yet to come. This is the trouble with birding! That site was the Lagoa dos Salgados, right on the shore west of Vilamoura and Albufeira. This was chock full of birds, with our first Pintail and Teal, Black-winged Stilt, and a monstrous Western Swamphen. Despite not having a scope we used the cameras to identify distant waders including a pair of Snipe, a Black-tailed Godwit, a Sanderling, two Common Sandpiper and a Ringed Plover. A Caspian Tern was a nice surprise. The sea was big and birdless, the beach vast. On the other side of this area we added Corn Bunting and a few Red-rumped Swallow, and a walk back towards the lagoon piced up a couple more as well as two Green Sandpiper. By now the day was over, it was getting dark, and the drive west to our hotel in Sagres was in a heavy downpour. Excellent dinner in a traditional restaurant, I think I had Turbot and it was fantastic with local wine.

Minor awakenings

I wake up at more or less the same time every day, 6am. Years and years of conditioning, I simply can't help it. Even if vast quantities of wine have been consumed the result is the same, except with a headache and a dry throat. One of the first things I do is look out of the window. What is the weather like? In April the question has a very particular meaning. What is the weather like for migrants? Blue skies and sunshine, lovely as they are (and God only knows we deserve them after a miserable winter), are crap for migrants. They simply sail right over the top. Other than a smattering of Chiffchaff and increasing numbers of Blackcap, Wanstead migration in 2025 has been limited to two Wheatear, a couple of Willow Warbler, under ten Swallow, a Little Ringed Plover and a Sand Martin. Given that we are approaching mid-April and that the coverage is outstanding this is pathetic. 

So I get up and go to the bathroom. On the way, or more likely on the way back once my eyes have started to work a little better, I take a look at the clear skies and then I go back to bed for a while. There is no point, none whatsoever, in dragging myself to the patch. How I know? Because I've dragged myself to the patch repeatedly and seen nothing for so long that I have wised up. However this morning there appeared to be some white and grey fluffy things in the sky. Eh? Oh clouds, yes, I remember them! I showered, got dressed, and dragged myself to the patch.

This proved worthwhile almost immediately, it is extraordinary what a difference it made. First up a Willow Warbler singing continuously from Long Wood, heard from a long way off and tracked down. Excellent, what a lovely little bird, and to hear that song really buoyed my spirits. Thus lifted I veritably skipped towards VizMig and leaned back against the fence to begin my vigil. Less than ten minutes later a high and distant blob resolved into a Marsh Harrier purposefully heading north, a properly rare bird on the patch and only my fourth. The morning was getting better! Switching to Centre Path as I meandered slowly towards the tube  and Donald Trump's tariffs a small bird flew from one Hawthorn to another without making so much as a sound. I felt I knew it, and when it landed there was a spanking Common Whitethroat in my bins, the first I have seen for many months. I think I am right in saying that this is our first for the year. I carried on, scanning the sky, looking on fence posts. A Sand Martin scudded north as I proceeded south, not the first for the year for the patch, but my first for the year and actually our hardest Hirundine by some margin. As I left the patch four Kestrel and a Sparrowhawk with in the air, with three of the former appearing to head north. We have a local resident pair however these were probably different birds. Other birds on the move included ten Meadow Pipit and some Linnet. A bit of cloud cover, that is all it takes. Imagine what some well-timed rain could do!

Faro for the weekend - Logistics and Itinerary - March 2025

The Algarve, March 8th-9th 2025

I've been to Madeira a few times, mostly in search of plants rather than birds, though of course there are a few special things there... My experience of the Portugese mainland is scant though, single trips to Lisbon (street photography) and Porto (drinking....). You don't get many birds on Madeira, and you certainly don't see many birds in Port cellars so my Portugese list was rather pathetic. The plan was to rectify this by spending a weekend on the south coast in early March, taking in a few of the wetland sites west of Faro on Saturday, and then to scoot up to the plains around Castro Verde on Sunday.

Logistics

• A weekend trip in early March with Senhor Southcott.

• Flights: from Gatwick to Faro on British Airways. Outbound is a horribly early Saturday morning flight that gets you to Faro mid-morning. On the plus side it requires no time off work, but at the same time this does mean less birding unless you want to make it three days. However the early start gives you as much birding as you can get on a weekend. The return flight leaves early on Sunday evening. Get cracking!

• Car Hire: Virtually free as far as I can recall, a decent little run-around car that did the job from Avis, and as part of a BA holiday meant that we could secure the booking for a minimal deposit. I think the flight and car came to £160 each. Decent.

• Driving: Simple. Good roads. Motorways are charged via cameras and you get your bill later. Our weekend racked up a princely 11 euros.

• Weather: Challenging! Blustery with bands of rain coming in from the west all weekend. Lovely between the squalls, albeit still on the windy side. Apparently it was lovely in the UK!

• Accommodation: Only one night needed so Mick booked a hotel in Sagres at the far end of the Algarve for £30 or so. Another bargain. It was perfectly serviceable.

• Food: Coffee and Pastel de nata all the way at €1.50 a pop. 

• Optics:  This was trip that in theory prioritised photography however the wind made that virtually impossible. The missing scope would have been useful a couple of times, particularly during good sea-watching conditions off Sagres on Sunday morning.

• Literature: eBird and Mick's prior experience!

 

Itinerary
Saturday: Very early flight from Gatwick. Arrived in Faro mid-morning and worked our way slowly east via a variety of birding hotspots, mostly wetland sites. Overnight at Sagres.
Sunday: Early seawatch off Sao Vicente, followed by a bit of birding on the plains to the immediate north. Then a quick drive up to Castro Verde for a change of scene, trying to find Raptors, Bustards, Sandgrouse and other specialties on the rolling planes. Early evening flight back to Gatwick. Easy.

Mandarins and other things

In early March a drake Mandarin was found on the Perch Pond in the Park by a non-birder, or possibly a birder but not one that we know. Widely twitched as usual, I was in Canary Wharf and unable to get there, and shortly after most people had seen it it did a bunk over Heronry and wasn't seen again. Until this Friday that is when James found what presumably is the same bird on Heronry. It quickly did a bunk again but only as far as Shoulder of Mutton where Bob, quick off the mark as ever, refound it a short while later. This time I wasn't in Canary Wharf, I was in Budapest. Excellent.

Roll forward to this Saturday, and now back home I am chomping at the bit to get into the Park and find both the Mandarin and the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, and dare to dream, a migrant. Fat chance on the latter, it has been utterly hopeless on that front. We've had a handful of Swallows, and I do mean a handful. Under ten. Pathetic. But I did get lucky with the Mandarin on Shoulder of Mutton first thing. It hadn't been there when I arrived, or perhaps was tucked up, but I picked it up in flight for the briefest moment as it departed east back towards Heronry. I couldn't refind it there, and a message about a close-by Bullfinch saw me take a cursory glance at Perch before heading off. Natuarally I dipped it. And the Lesser Spot. Then it was time for the Wheatear Trophy presentation.

As Tony and I headed towards the Flats we decided to check Perch. And there it was! Glorious! It is my seventh record of Mandarin, so not super rare but equally quite a long way from annual. This is quite surprising for a species that lives in some numbers not that far away, so I suppose they must be fairly sedentary. This one was really quite friendly.....where has it come from? Who cares as I had my camera with me, my lovely new tiny light-weight toy camera. I have decided that seeing as I barely notice it upon my shoulder that I will try and take it out with me much more often. Weather permitting as it is no Canon 1 series, or at least I have not yet tested it out in the kind of extreme conditions that I knew would do absolutely nothing to the 1DX. It just seems so petite and delicate, how it possibly be expected to repel a single droplet of water? It probably just needs to man up. Or I do. In reality it is all academic as I don't go birding in the rain anyway.

 

Wanstead Wheatear Trophy 2025

I was away last week for work but I did not miss a great deal. A Lesser Spotted Woodpecker was found in the Park, good to see that these are still clinging on, and a drake Mandarin Duck has been hanging around. Somebody might have seen a Swallow I think, oh and Bob's microphone has been going great guns overnight with passage waders, but generally migrants have been desperately thin on the ground. I was worried that whilst in Budapest the flood gates would open and the patch would be drenched in migrants. Nope, it has been strangely quiet with barely any movement. No doubt the high pressure has seen everything soar straight over?

Louis's triumpant Wheatear on March 22nd has so far been the only Wheatear. Thank God for all the training, had he not been so alert we might still not have seen one. And we are not sure what a blank March might mean for the Wanstead Wheatear Trophy, perhaps it would see it simply retained by whoever had won it last year, with the finder's cup presumably changing hands regardless as this is not date dependent. Let's hope it never comes to that, what a damp squib that would be!

After a short period all dipping Lesser Spot in the Park we all gathered at VizMig on Saturday morning. Louis was dressed up as expected, he set the standard a number of years ago and this has become something of a tradition. What we were not expecting was for Tony to whip off his coat to also reveal a dress shirt, tuxedo and a bow tie. Most excellent. Speeches were made, fizz was drunk, and the charity total from the entrance fee of nearly £200 was revealed taking us to something like £1000 over the years. This year we are giving it to the South Essex Wildlife Hospital in Orsett, a fine choice from Mary.

See it, say it, win it

Well this is almost unprecedented. Not since 2017 have I managed 50 blog posts by the end of March. And yet here we are. Antipathy is somewhat to blame, a lack of write-ups in 2024 contributing to a surfeit in 2025, yet this diminishes the scale of the effort. At a time when blogging is essentially dead I have managed to defy the odds by a huge margin. An alternative view would be that I am just not getting the message. I know, I know. I was talking to a fellow patchworker the other day about my camera, knowing I had made the big switch he had asked how it was going. OK, I said, had he seen any of the stuff I'd posted from Morocco, my first proper trip with it? Er, no. I don't blame him at all, it is just the way things are. I could write a blog about it....

Meanwhile I am behind on trips again. When you travel as relentlessly as I appear to do this is bound to happen. Texel is as long ago as February, I've since spent a weekend in the Algarve and a day on Jersey, a long held ambition. Both were excellent and will appear here soon, however there is something much more important to convey. There is Wheatear news. Yes, it has happened. As my regular reader will know my first day of March 12th passed without troubling the scorers. The day I would have chosen, March 15th, was also a blank. I was not upset about this. The rest of that week was also Wheatearless and to make matters worse we were pipped to the post by Walthamstow of all places. Gah! 

Saturday dawned overcast and with some scattered showers. The first bird found was a Stonechat, new in. Things were looking good. This was Tony's day, and having found the first Wheatear on his chosen day in 2024 he was on for the double double. A year ago he had been stood next to Louis when a Wheatear had popped up. Tony beat Louis to the exclamation by a millisecond. Ever since then Louis has been in an intensive training regime managed by Gosia. Wheatear cut-outs have been placed around the house, stapled onto sticks, pasted onto windows, and for nearly 12 months Louis has been coached to within an inch of his life in not only how to spot a Wheatear but how to enunciate the word "Wheatear" with almost no latency. Would this be enough? Tony is pretty sharp, and after a week at work he is itching to get out there, straining every sense in the pursuit of that one singular goal. The double double. Louis for his part has been out every day, practising on Redwing, Dunnock, Skylark and Song Thrush. By the time Saturday came around he'd done something like 30 hours that week. See it, say it, win it. This is the mantra. There were no Wheatears to practice on, but you should hear him on Cormorants. 

Shortly after James found the Stonechat Bob upped the stakes by finding a Black Redstart at the southern end of the Brooms. Tony, James and I were ideally placed having been at Angel looking for Snipe. Black Redstart is is a patch mega, the first and only record being in 2013, in other words a patch tick for almost everyone, and we hurried over there so that James could qualify for buying us all breakfast (you get a patch tick, you buy the coffees). Louis was at the wrong end of the Brooms and thus missed out on an ideal warm-up but managed to get over there with Gosia, Eve and Tim to see it before it vanished. Good, very good even, but nonetheless not a Wheatear.

Black Redstart with handsome but blurred birder in the background. © James Heal

You cannot have both Stonechat and Black Redstart on the patch and not have a Wheatear was the general feeling. Once we had all reassembled at the northern end of the Brooms we were on high alert. James toddled off to get the coffees in and this of course proved the ideal moment for a Wheatear to pop up on a tree. For my part I had just at this moment decided to go and see if James was on his way back and needed assistance, and Tony, well where was Tony? Nowhere is where. Louis smoothly spotted and called the Wheatear in an almost nonchalant fashion leaving Tony and the rest of us in the dust. We all got on it after the second call before it dropped off to the left and out of view but of course it was game over by then. Tony retains the overall trophy, but the finders award goes to Louis. Well, to Louis's trainer if we are being honest. Gosia has had but one goal in mind since Louis's abject failure to say a crucial word on March 16th last year, and she has pursued it singularly. Dave Brailsford and the science of marginal gains has nothing on Gosia. Louis is exhausted, relief rather than elation but, like an Olympic campaign, it has all been worthwhile. The presentation will be in a couple of weeks, this reporter plans to be present.

Wheatears are sensible

The wind has been a nagging constant, quite biting at times. It has felt distinctly wintery and not at all like spring. Quite sensibly Wheatears have decided they want no part of it and have stayed away. I am not sure where they are. Not here at any rate, even though this is prime time. There were quite a few Northern Wheatear in Morocco in January, I don't know if they winter there or were on the move from further south, but for all I know they may still be there enjoying warm and sunny weather. In Wanstead, where it is neither warm nor sunny, I was out again this morning searching diligently on behalf of whoever's sweepstake day this. Whoever they were they weren't out there searching with me. Even though this is disappointing it is also entirely logical when you consider that it was a) freezing and b) completely and utterly dead with a capital D. Dead. I'll try again tomorrow, as the week progresses it is supposed to be getting a bit warmer. Some years ago I found my first Wanstead Wheatear in a gap between snow flurries. That was back when Wheatears were tough and manly and just on with it. The new generation of Wheatears are clearly a bit sensitive. Whokears.

Talking of warmth, or the lack of it, on Saturday we went to Kew Gardens to meet up with some friends. As west London was as glacial as east London we spent most of the time inside the various greenhouses - the Palm House, the zoned Princess of Wales Conservatory, and the magnificent Temperate House. These sensational plant collections make my attempts at growing tropical plants and succulents here in Wanstead look amateurishly pathetic but wandering around them they reminded me how much I liked plants, how much I somehow know about various plant families, and more importantly what my plans for the 2025 growing season were. I actually made a to-do list as I was walking around. I needed to clean this or that plant, my Aloe suprafoliata could do with repotting, such and such plant needs trimming.... Needless to say once back home the following day and brimming with enthusiasm I disappeared into the greenhouse and was not seen for several hours. A bunch of Aloes have now been repotted, not just the one I had in mind, dead leaves have been removed, insect pests have been dealt with and a host of other things. I was so busy that I completely lost track of the time and was almost late for a lunch engagement in north London. 

What really struck me about Kew was how much better the plants grew either directly in beds or in larger pots. I have plants that have barely changed in size in several years and there are direct comparisons to be made as I once donated some spare seedlings to Kew Gardens. I refound one of these plants on Saturday and was both pleased at how massive it was and disappointed at how puny it's relatives that had remained in my care were. The difference? The restrictions of a pot, and constant heating paid for by £25 entrance tickets - gah! Not that I can do much about my growing conditions. I can't really afford to heat the greenhouse to the ideal temperature during the winter and Mrs L would surely object if I tossed the sofa into the garden and replaced it with a raised bed. But I can dream, and perhaps increase the pot size of a few choice plants....  Wheatears? Who cares about Wheatears?

Well that's a relief

Today would have been my Wheatear day had I been alert enough to actually give Tony my choices at the appointed time. Instead it ended up being Bob's Wheatear day. You can therefore imagine my relief when the patch turned up virtually no migrants this morning. A handful of Chiffchaff and a single Blackcap, none of them likely new in, and the only sign of actual movement a small number of Meadow Pipit overhead. There is always tomorrow, or more likely given the current weather conditions, a much later date. For instance the 27th... 

James, Tony and I pottered around the Flats for a while, not seeing a great deal. Momentary and possible excitement was caused by three Swans picked up late heading north and away. We all wanted them to be something they probably were not, and the photos are inconclusive. We checked the Park in case they had come down. They had not. I did manage several Little Owls on the Flats, and a Great Crested Grebe in the Park. These two take me to 67 for the year, neither terrible nor outstanding. Fewer than at the equivalent date in 2024, more than in 2023. This means precisely nothing at this early stage, as I've often said, this is a marathon....

One of three Little Owl on Wanstead Flats this morning

Texel

As I am sure that the whole world knows a Spectacled Eider somehow pitched up in Holland back in January. It was big news, a record of extreme bonkersness. How could a bird that doesn't leave the Arctic Circle arrive in Europe? How could a bird that is so difficult to see on its breeding grounds in Alaska and simply impossible to see in winter be bobbing about off a sea wall on Texel? I remarked upon all of this at the time and then put it to the back of my mind. I am not a Western Palearctic twitcher and what is more I was absurdly busy, too busy to drop everything and go to Holland. I proceeded with Plan A. And simultaneously Plans B, C, D & E....

The bird had been present for a month before Bradders called. To be fair he'd floated the idea of a weekend on Texel at the end of January but as I'd said I was out of the game until late February I'd assumed he would have gone already. But he hadn't, and he had also cleverly remembered that my next free weekend was the 22nd February. Was I still free he enquired? Well yes, I was. But I will tell you now that having yet another weekend away was the very last thing I wanted at that particular moment in time. Putting common sense, reason and matrimonial harmony to one side I said yes immediately.

Plans were put into action, ferry tickets were booked, electric vehicle charging locations were pinpointed (a whole new game). After work on Friday I took a train out to Colchester, and from there was electrically chauffeured to Harwich and onto one of the largest ferries I'd ever seen, and what seemed like a few moments later we arrived at the Hook of Holland. I've never slept so well on a boat, the Shetland ferries feel like tubs in comparison. I couldn't even feel the engine vibrations and slept like a baby the whole way across. 

Part of my motivation for coming on this little outing was that my only other Eurotwitch, also to Holland and also with Bradders, had been before eBird. As such I'd had to recreate historical lists based on photographs and blog posts which tend not to feature iconic birds like Dunnocks and Starlings. Returning armed, as it were, would make up for this grave 2016 oversight and as such I was out on deck with the app running as the ship came into dock. I added nothing.

With the required charging break we made it to the Den Helder ferry for the 11.30am sailing and were on Texel for midday. It was a short drive north to the relevant sea wall and shortly afterwards we were watching 'the boy'. When the Spectacled Eider first turned up the scenes from Texel were extraordinary. I was sent a video with no context, all I saw were more birders in one place than I have ever seen before. It turned out to be all of Europe's twitchers descending on Texel on the first available weekend. Bradders and I had played it very cool indeed and consequently we ended up watching it with perhaps six other people. It was reasonably distant so we were unlucky on that front, but through the scope the views were fine. As you can see from my photograph it was possibly slightly out of range for my camera..... It seemed in fine fettle, though, associating with a small flock of Common Eider, diving and preening and generally being very Eider-y. I love it when a plan comes together.

Spectacled Eider

The only slight wrinkle in the plan was the deteriorating weather. It was looking very gloomy indeed, one of those days where dusk arrives at about 2pm and refuses to leave. We made the best of it, birding the flat landscape and enjoying the quite ridiculous numbers of geese - Barnacles, Greater White-fronts, Brents and Greylags. And of course adding to our burgeoning Netherlands life lists with various waders, ducks and passerines. Eventually however we had to admit defeat, the weather was unpleasant and unbirdable, and we decided to leave Texel and head back south. We made a short stop at a canal near the Amstelmeer which had at a minimum 24 Smew in it, itself remarkable given how you rarely see more than one in the UK and that's if you make an effort. A little further south at Alkmaar we then dipped Baikal Teal and Ring-necked Duck. Nevermind, out of the three rare ducks we felt had dipped the correct ones.

The next day the weather was much improved, not yet wonderful, but significantly better. Birdable better. We were staying in Almere and with listing very much in mind headed off to some local woodland to see what we might find. I say listing, what I really meant was cool Woodpeckers that are not found in the UK, namely Middle-spotted and Black Woodpecker. We found both of these at the very lovely Goois Natuurreservaat Spanderswoud along with clouds of Siskin, Brambling and Chaffinch. If you have not seen one let me put it on record that Black Woodpeckers are sensational. For starters they are enormous. And very black. And very loud. Once we had heard it call it did not take us long to track it down. 

The rest of the day was spent alternating between Natuurpark Lelystad and the Oostvaarderplassen. The former hosted an extremely mobile and irritating Pygmy Cormorant, hence the alternating. Not an impressive bird but a very rare one this far west. We eventually got it at our second attempt having missed it by a matter of minutes several times during our first visit. I wonder if one will ever make it as far as the UK?

The latter was an immense gathering of geese and a scattering of eagles. Generally the geese did the gathering and the Eagles took care of the scattering. This was far more satisfying than chasing a small Cormorant around a series of small lakes, mind-bogglingly so actually, with vast numbers of wildfowl and waders. In addition to several White-tailed Eagle we were also treated to a fly-through Goshawk, a Hen Harrier, several Kestrels and a Marsh Harrier. Both wild Swans were present, as well as Spoonbill, and a short distance away were Scaup, Lesser Scaup, Goosander and a Jack Snipe. Excellent birding, and we spent until dusk here before heading back for the Sunday evening sailing to Harwich.

A small fraction of the geese present

So that was the weekend that ideally I would have spent at home. I am glad I went though, winter birding in The Netherlands is fantastic and that is also likely my only chance at Spectacled Eider. And it is only a couple of days, any angst I might have felt at the time is long gone, and I'm largely caught up on almost all of things I postponed. And as you already know I did subsequently manage a day at home the following weekend. Yay! But only after I'd been to France for a day....

Wheatear disappointment

I think I mentioned recently that I blew my chances in the annual Wanstead Wheatear Sweepstake by failing to turn up to choose my dates at the appointed time. That meant I went from first out of the hat to last, with Tony picking me the 12th March after the first pass was complete and the 27th after the second - at that point there being just two days left after 29 had already been picked. You will note that today is the 13th and that there was no "Breaking News" yesterday.... No Wheatears.

The Model Aircraft Field not carpeted in Wheatears

As is de rigeur for such a hotly contested trophy virtually nobody turned up to assist. Jim was out briefly, but not even the lure of the Finder's Trophy could tempt anyone else to look. I was on my own. I gave it my best shot but needless to say I did not find a Wheatear. I wasn't really expecting to - despite some very early arrivals the large numbers have not yet materialised and for Wanstead to get Wheatears everywhere has to be getting Wheatears. I did have a very nice time though, spending a good couple of hours out on the Flats. I ended up seeing a lot of birds - the Chiffchaffs are back in decent numbers and I heard my first Blackcaps singing in the Brick Pits and Esso Copse. 

A nice view of zero Wheatears

At some point during my walk I realised I was approaching 45 species which is not at all shabby for March. This was largely due to an unexpectedly good haul of waterfowl on Jubilee, including Pochard, Gadwall and Little Grebe. I'd been pleased with 42 on my dry run the previous day, could I get to 50? Thoughts of Wheatears all but vanished, the hunt was on for missing species! Knowing the patch as well as I do it was a question of heading to certain spots but there was a fair slice of luck involved as well. I found a Redwing in Esso Copse, a Pied Wagtail was in the car park there, and a pair of Greylag flew towards Alex meaning I didn't have to schlep over there. Just as I was wondering if I might not still fall short a Grey Heron helpfully flew over, and shortly after than I found a Stock Dove pottering around in Coronation Copse. Obviously I know why it's called Coronation Copse, but I also found physical evidence of that which in 20 years of birding here I cannot recall ever having seen before.

The original plaque from 1953

OK so it's not especially impressive and hasn't exactly been lovingly looked after, but it's still there after over 70 years which is amazing when you think about it. You just have to look at other parts of Wanstead Flats to see how the local population treats it - with disdain. Yes there's a bit missing, but it hasn't been burned, chopped up, stolen...

A more recent and much more typical installation.

With Stock Dove under the belt I needed just one more to make the big 5-0. Goldcrest, Sparrowhawk or Collared Dove would do it. Needing to start work in the not too distant future I figured that latter would take the least amount of time and started scanning nearby rooftops as everyone knows that this is where Collared Doves prefer to hang out. It didn't take long for Brading Crescent to come up trumps and I was able to stride home with a feeling of satisfaction despite the lack of lovely white backsides.

Bits and pieces, dribs and drabs

My schedule is finally beginning to free up, I've not yet had a full weekend at home this year. For six weekends I have not been here at all. Mostly (but not entirely) this is all my own fault and I planned it this way several months ago not realising quite how exhausting it would end up being. First there was Morocco, then there was Scotland. Twice. In between these two trips there was the emergency run to the States, and then it was half term in the Peak District. When finally I had a free weekend in late February I inexplicably used it to twitch Texel for the Spectacled Eider. 

I finally had a full day at home last Sunday and it was bliss. The sun was out, the greenhouse was warm, and I busied myself with my plants and the end of the long winter. It's a labourious process, giving each pot a tiny amount of water to accompany the warmth and the light awakening them from their winter slumber, but with cold nights still potentially lethal to wet roots. A fine art, hopefully I have got it right. Once it is warmer still I will add a little boost of fertiliser and the short growing season will begin. It was filthy down there, fungal growth on loads of leaves, and a scale insect problem that will have to wait a few weeks to be properly dealt with. But initial signs are good, most plants seem to have made it and indeed, pestilential insects aside, look in fine fettle.

Of course I can't spend all my time in the greenhouse from now on. There are Wheatears to be found (and other less important migrants). I can feel it in the air, they are on their way. Wheatears are the ones we all want. I was actually first out the hat for the annual sweepstake but at the appointed time to choose our dates I was busy and it slipped my mind. I was bumped to last. Rats. This is not unexpected in 2025. I mean it is good to be busy, but I wish I was less busy. The end is in sight though, and a visible sign of easing is that I've been birding locally. 

Until recently my Wanstead list this year could only be considered as deeply unimpressive. Approaching the end of February I'd managed one visit to Wanstead Flats in early January. That had taken me to 35 species, and my commute to the office through Bush Wood had increased that to 44. 44! Oh dear. I finally got my act in gear on the 25th, going for a walk before work in the Park and the Old Sewage Works. This took me to 58, and then last weekend a bit of sky-watching added both Buzzard and Red Kite between bouts of gardening. A quick visit to the Old Sewage works earlier this week added Kingfisher and Water Rail, and a Chiffchaff on the way to work yesterday took me to 63. A veneer of respectability. A thin veneer.... I have even now gone so far as to scribble a list of targets on a post-it note so things are getting pretty serious. 

Somehow in the same period I've managed to get through six trip reports, including the most recent one to Morocco which I just finished. They're as popular as ever which is a bit of a shame as they take hours. Actually I haven't finished as I suppose I really need to see if I can make something out of Arizona and Texel. I've also spent many hours getting the 2023 London Bird Report done, always a bit of a struggle at this time of the year but my part is once again finished and ready for others to take up the mantle. I could give you a much fuller ticked-off to-do list but that might be even less popular than a trip report. In summary I've done a lot this year and so maybe Elon won't fire me?

Morocco - January 2025 - Trip List

The trip list topped out at 98, try as we might we could not get to 100. For a whole week that seems somehow sub-standard especially as I am likely to see a similar number on a short weekend trip. But as I've mentioned/moaned a few time over the course of this trip report birds were generally in short supply out in the desert. We missed most of the Sandgrouse, and did not make an effort for Desert Sparrow as all the recent reports we could find would have been beyond our vehicle. We couldn't find any Babblers and we were too early for Atlas Wheatear (old Seebohm's). Not having a scope for the larger water bodies probably cost us a few species as well. 

But those birds that we did see, especially the desert species, we saw really well, and as photography was the priority we gave them a lot of time. I came away pretty pleased - I have keepers of about ten species, including four Wheatears. And lets not forget that this is with a camera that I only started using for bird photography at the end of last year. Having now used it quite intensively for a week I am a buyer. It has clear limitations, it is harder to take an off the cuff photograph still. With the Canon my fingers were moving well before I lifted the camera, the Sony requires more thought and thus slows me down. Quite a few shots were missed as I didn't have the right settings, or had flicked a button inadvertently and didn't know how to change it back. Having a zoom rather than a prime is also a bit novel, and in the heat of the action it's entirely possible to discover that you were taking photos at 200mm and not 600mm! But the quality is there, the only limitation is me learning how to get the best from it. Deep down I want an A9 series for the ergonomics, having buttons and dials where I want them, and for a step up in autofocus, but for now my tiny A6600 seems to do just fine. And tiny is what it is and why I bought it - when I pick it up, when I pack it or unpack it, or just stand it up somewhere - the size gets me every time. It is just breathtakingly small and light in comparison to what I used to use. I can carry it all day without really noticing it is there. In short it is great and I hope to become a lot more competent with it this year.

Olympus on the left, Sony on the right

Anyway, Morocco is fantastic and I can't wait to go back. I think March or early April would likely be a good time to go, the only issue is that this trip takes time. It's not a weekend jaunt, the drive out to the real deserts takes an entire day, and it is best to break it up into two. Essentially that means a whole week, multiples of which I don't have at the moment. I am so looking forward to retirement.

Morocco - January 2025 - Day 7 - Over the Atlas and home

The view up the pass from Maison d'Hotes Irocha

Another early start for what was our final day. The hotel was good enough to make us breakfast really early but I was unfortunately a little slower out of the room than Mick and arrived to find he'd eaten it all thinking it was for one person! That'll teach me. No matter, I can survive on Wheatears alone.

We backtracked a little to follow up reports of a Moussier's Redstart, a bird we still hadn't seen, but were not able to find it. Perhaps it was still a little cold. After that we headed north, hoping to boost the trip list as we crossed the mountains. We stopped frequently where the habitat looked good, usually small settled areas where there was more vegetation. We picked up Cetti's Warbler and numerous other small birds at one of these sites, but were completely unable to find Levaillant's Woodpecker which was our main target along with the Redstart.

Aguelmouss was an excellent stop, a mountain village as you approach the Col. We were looking for the Woodpecker but what should we find hopping around a building but four Crimson-winged Finch. I had no idea they could be found anywhere other than the ski resort at Oukaimeden. Unfortunatey they vanished almost as soon as we set eyes on them, a shame as we were hoping that we might add another species to the photographed list. Also at this site were Crested Lark, Black Redstart, Rock Bunting and a friendly Black Wheatear.

Black Wheatear

We carried on, over Tizi-n-tichka, and began the long descent to Ait Ourir. We had a coffee break late morning in a well wooded area - there are a couple of restaurants and places to take a pause, and near one of these we finally found Coal Tit which we had somehow missed everywhere else. There were also Crossbill, a Song Thrush and a Short-toed Treecreeper.

At Ait Hmane we stopped for some Maghreb Magpie, a group of nine, and whilst Mick tried for them I wandered over to the other side of the road and stumbled upon a Moussier's Redstart entirely by accident. Before we could do anything about this the local kids turned up on their bikes and followed us wherever we went, and so that was that.

Down at Ait Ourir we enjoyed the singular pleasure of the dump. Good for birds, grim in all other respects, and particularly offensive to nostrils. There were hundreds of Cattle Egret and White Stork here, and tons of Chiffchaff, Pied Wagtails, and Yellow Wagtails. Also our first Swallow. We did not linger, it was too disgusting. And yet people spend all day here trying to eke out a living. Travel lets you know how fortunate you are.

Cattle Egret

We had lunch a little further down the road whilst we planned the final hours of the trip - another try at Fulvous Babbler in an area south of Marrakesh and also closer to the airport than we currently were. Needless to say we found no Babblers at all, but it was quite a birdy place with over 30 Magpie, two more Moussier's Redstart (neither cooperative), House and Spanish Sparrow, lots of Stonechat and Spotless Starling, and a Great Grey Shrike. 

Maghreb Magpie

Stonechat

Then it was time to pack up and get to our flight as it was nearly 5pm, where had the day gone? The roads in Marrakesh seemed particularly busy at this time of day, especially around the airport, but we nosed our mighty Picanto through the morass of mopeds and made it in time. Some momentary panic when we drove into the wrong carpark and it took ages to get out again and into the correct one, but there was plenty of time to spare. And so that was Morocco 2025, I am glad to have got back there after so many years. The landscapes are amazing, the people are friendly, and the birds are wonderful. I want to go back already!