France & Spain - August 2005
by
Ben Macdonald
Having had our Austria trip pulled at the last minute
due to the Heathrow strikes, it turned out to be an incredible stroke of luck
as, two weeks later, we looked back on a brilliant trip through France and North
Spain that could not have yielded more our of our most sought after birds.
Taking the camper van, we had planned to cut down
through France to the La Brenne Regional Park before moving down into the heart
of the French Pyrenees, eventually returning by the Biscay ferry. The crossing
was uneventful except for several Great Skuas and
Yellow-legged Gulls. We arrived at Caen and
enjoyed our first night of French cooking au bord de la cote Normandie.
We drove for most of the day towards
Mezieres-en-Brenne in the Indre region and that evening set out into the Brenne
for our meal, stopping en-route at our first étang, Gabrieu. Almost immediately
we were greeted with four Cattle Egrets,
obviously part of a post breeding flock. A Black-necked
Grebe, a breeding speciality of these lakes, was on the water and best of
all were the fishing Whiskered Terns, our first
lifer, hovering brilliant close to us revealing their short tails, grey belly
and contrasting white cheek. A Marsh Harrier was
an expected addition to the list. That evening we dined overlooking the Étang
Gabrière, where even as we ate, an Osprey flew
in to take a fish and, as dusk settled over the lake, Night
Herons came flying in to roost, two juveniles circling the restaurant
right over our heads, their drooping heads making for a characteristic flight
silhouette. A fantastic introduction to this diverse and little-known region of
France.
Our principle aim, bird-wise anyway, on visiting these
lakes may sound a little tame to you more experienced birders but it was this
– to find Purple Heron. This fantastic wetland
species had eluded us for so many years, somehow, that it was definitely one of
our biggest European targets. In overcast weather we arrived at the Chérine
reserve, where Cirl Buntings sang from wires and Fan-tailed
Warblers called their “Zzit” from overhead. At the visitor centre, an
incredible diminutive European
Pond Tortoise was found sitting on a dried up bank. The drought has
affected the water life of the Brenne much this year. We moved onto the hide,
where some impatient scanning of the many Grey Herons
almost immediately yielded a very different bird – a Purple Heron,
sitting plumb in the open at the edge of a reed bed. After years of waiting,
this fantastic bird was finally revealed to us as it first caught fish, walked,
then flew! The incredible snake like neck, colouring and plumes make this a
wonderful bird to observe. We moved onto the Étang de Beuregard. A short walk
to this étang showed passage in full swing; a post-breeding flock of Black-winged
Stilts and huge numbers of Whiskered Terns
including many young birds. Butterflies were beginning to emerge and we were
able to photograph Great-Banded Grayling, Sooty
Copper and Short-tailed Blue. We finished
the day at a campsite on the Étang de Bellebouche.
The following morning we left the van for a
pre-breakfast walk. The woods held another lifer – the easily-identified (!) Short-toed
Treecreeper, which finally uttered a call which gave it away. Large
numbers of Pied Flycatchers were moving through,
while three Hoopoes were an unexpected bonus
here. A Purple Heron, as if to prove its status
as an easily found bird, flew in from the nearby heronry to start fishing. We
passed the Étang de Gabriére again towards lunchtime, picking up another Osprey
and, totally unexpectedly, a rather early flock of Great
White Egrets, presumably from Eastern Europe or dispersing from the
colonies on the Atlantic Coast – a lifer again. As we passed on, we met a
flock of 80+ Cattle Egrets and a another Purple
Heron flew past. At the Étang Massé things were very quiet except for a
criminally brief Southern White Admiral which
flew over and a single Water Rail. Then onto the
Étang Blizon, where we met, amazingly, our first birder of the trip. He told
us, somewhat to our disbelief, that a pair of the locally rare Squacco
Heron had appeared just up the road – and so off we went on our first
foreign twitch. Five minutes later we had them staring down the scope barely ten
feet away, an incredible species with a colour I’ve never seen in nature
before. A cracking lifer, and heron species number seven. Also on Blizon were at
least three more Purple Herons, many Great
White Egrets, the ubiquitous Whiskered Tern,
Marsh Harrier, Kingfisher
and distant Honey Buzzard. Content with our luck,
we stopped briefly at the Étang Foucault, picking up Grizzled
Skipper, before heading back to Bellebouche. Stopping by an un-named étang
for a flyover Purple Heron, we found another
adult sitting literally at our feet, swallowing fish. This was too much, so we
left.
Our final day in the Brenne was somewhat quieter. A
woodland walk in the Foret Lancosme was typically frustrating, with both Black
and Middle-spotted Woodpeckers heard but not seen. Butterflies fared better,
with Map Butterfly and Purple
Emperor putting on a good show. A single Great
White Egret was seen on a small lake, while at the dried up Étang
Cordreau a pale male Honey Buzzard gave cracking
views while Foucault held a huge flock of Cattle Egrets.
At dusk we did a farewell trip to Blizon, watching the egrets fly in to roost,
and clocking a Tawny Owl on the return trip.
For those who have not been there, I recommend the
Brenne. We didn’t even see it at its best, which would be during early summer
when the orioles, bee-eaters and other exotics are all present. The phrase
France Profound springs to mind, especially when you stay in eighteenth century
chambres d’hotes or buy meat in Mezieres! Today we moved down towards the Lot
Valley at Cahors, picking up several Honey Buzzards
as we passed through the Dordogne valley. The Lot Valley is a fabulous contrast
from Brenne with its imposing cliffs and hilltop castles. At dusk, another lifer
sprang out of the gloom in the form of some Alpine
Swifts, immediately recognisable even in silhouette by their huge size.
We didn’t see them again, so who knows what their agenda was.
Next morning we ended our brief stay to head for the
Pyrenees, but a brief roadside stop provided us with some excellent butterfly
photographs – a colony of Adonis Blue, Chalk-hill
Blue, Heath Fritillary and more Great
Banded Grayling.
Our journey became, naturally, more spectacular on
reaching the Pyrenees but nowhere were we reminded more of how easy it is to
“find your own” in this huge country that at a Aire in the Midi-Pyrenees. In
five minutes, we had found Large Tortoiseshell, Glanville,
Knapweed, Heath
and Pearl-bordered Fritillaries and a Cranberry
Blue. Two hours later, sitting at a café at St Marie de Campan, we
watched the first of many Griffon Vultures
overhead while drinking coffee. Perhaps the most memorable days were to follow,
as we got to grips with the incredible raptor spectacular that is the French
Pyrenees. That night, as we set up camp, a fantastic adult Golden
Eagle came over the hill brow, landed twice, then drifted off. This
incredible raptor is too often very distant but as it flew now you could see the
golden mane of feathers behind the fearsome bill.
Our first full day in these amazing mountains saw us
push the Camper up to the Col de Tourmalet, where we began a walk towards the
Pic du Midi. High altitude specialists, the ringlets, were in force, with Spanish
Brassy and Gavarnie Ringlets being
photographed. Water Pipits are common here, and
mixed flocks of Chough and Alpine
Chough were overhead. As the day went on, Griffons
began to emerge in numbers, some criminally close Honey
Buzzards passed overhead, as did a flock of 15 Red
Kites. Our first Marmots, amusing creatures,
bounded between the boulders. The highlight came, however, on our return, where
a flock of nine Snowfinches worked their way up
the hill towards us until they were foraging between the tripod legs and playing
havoc with the Opticron’s close-focusing abilities. A fantastic first day, but
all the time we had been scanning for a bird which has become a family legend
despite never being seen – the Lammergeier.
Cloud was depressing low as we headed towards
Gavarnie, and only towards midday did the cloud recede into the valley below
us. The cirque looked moody in its shroud, so we headed into the Valley
d’Ossaue, where huge, sheer cliffs rose either side inviting the inevitably
fruitless search for wallcreepers. Many Griffon Vultures
were flying, and Chalk-hill Blue and Clouded
Yellow butterflies were commonplace. We drove slowly up the tortuous road
until suddenly the sky darkened (!) With a great crash of breaks we all piled
out because right above us, on unbelievably long narrow wings was an adult Lammergeier,
head dropping, wedge-tailed, gliding effortlessly away from us, more like some
futuristic glider than bird. We watched it wheel into a flock of Choughs,
looking tiny in comparison, before it vanished over the hill, re-appearing at
intervals without once beating its wings, almost as if in slow motion. The day
would, amazingly, get better. An hour later, we watched a pair of juvenile
Golden Eagles talon locking and food passing to one another on a huge
outcrop, while an adult soared behind us.
Red-backed Shrike, Cuckoo, Honey Buzzard and Dipper were just fillers before the Lammergeier came soaring across the valley again, its head turning back a forth, presumably looking for bones or tortoises to drop! An incredible day, and the fulfilment of a lifelong birding ambition.
With worse weather than yesterday we decided to walk
the Cirque de Gavarnie today. Snow-melt was pouring down the sheer walls and
crashing through the village due to the late rains. All was quiet except for a
single Large Wall Brown and, much later, the
long-awaited appearance of some Chamois – our
first ever – standing precariously on a mountain slope. Griffons
and a flock of Serin made up the rest until a
brief stop in the mouth of the Ossaue Valley yielded several Marmots
and a Rock Bunting, which took flight showing
white tail sides.
Today was to be amongst our best birding days ever in
terms of quality, but it started off quietly in glorious sunlight with a
photogenic Marmot as we made our way up the Heas
Valley to the Barrage de Gloriettes. A huge passage of Pied
Flycatchers was coming through, as were many Serins
and warblers. Griffon Vultures flew so close you
could see their eyes, three Honey Buzzards passed
and a cracking male Rock Bunting appeared at our
feet. Arriving at the Barrage de Gloriettes, it seemed that the good weather had
brought butterflies out of cover and in no time we had seen and photographed Queen
of Spain and Dark Green Fritillary, Iolas
Blue, Wall Brown, Marbled
and Red-Underwing Skipper and several
others. Then, just above us heads, minutes after passing the 1500m mark, a
family of Rock Thrushes flew in and spent the
next hour trying to get good views of us as they sat atop rocks or foraged
nearby. At one point a bush nearby was alive with both these birds and Black
Redstarts, providing a picture in orange. A short walk provided little
more so, in the great heat, we beat a retreat across the Barrage itself where Crag
Martins were nesting. Way away on the cliffs a huge bird, orange
underneath, soared and immediately landed. Something clicked in the depths of my
mind and the scope was up. After fruitless searching of the spot, an
orange-maned head with a bony, bearded point caught my attention – an adult Lammergeier
at its nest, picked out with the naked eye from ½ a mile away, and my best spot
to date. You cannot exaggerate what it is to have one of the world’s largest,
most colourful and charismatic birds of prey sitting in the scope in no hurry to
go anywhere. Its amazing orange front and “trousers”, black back and its
incredible head complete with neat little beard. It held us rapt for over an
hour as it sat in full view, making us wonder what we had done to deserve such
views. Eventually we left, and even a cracking Short-toed
Eagle close-by was pushed from mind by the impression of this ultimate
encounter! This bird is rare – only 500+ pairs exist in Europe and only 45 in
France - if anyone reading this hasn’t seen one yet, there’s no excuse. That
evening we took a walk around our new campsite at Gedre, and expressed mild
surprise when another one flew straight overhead as we cooked.
Our last full day in the Pyrenees was like a summary
of what it was all about. It began with two Lammergeiers
seen briefly from Gedre as we bought shopping. We returned to the Ossaue Valley
in broad sunlight, and immediately the butterflies were there – Black-veined
White, Escher’s Blue, Rock
Grayling, Scarce Copper, White
Admiral, Mountain Ringlet and Queen
of Spain were all noted or photographed, but the best moment came when a
huge Camberwell Beauty fluttered in front of the
car.
Raptors soon became a feature with Griffon
Vulture, the two immature Golden Eagles,
two separate Lammergeiers and three Short-toed
Eagles, including one perched, all within fifteen minutes! Rock
Buntings, Water Pipits, Alpine
Choughs, Dipper and Whinchat
formed a supporting cast. Once again it was the wallcreeper that got away –
but then does it really exist anyway? Next time, a trip to the Hecho Valley is
on the cards for this species, though even at its known haunts it proves
elusive.
Time to leave the Pyrenees and head on into Spain. In
no time the mountains dropped away leaving the flat expanse of coastal southern
France. A single Booted Eagle was, amazingly, the
only one of the holiday while a later stop in Spain produced another Short-toed
Eagle and a large flock of Spotless Starlings.
We stopped inland of the Santander, and spent the following day quietly
exploring the countryside immediately inland of the Cantabria. The promising
Embalso de Ebro was incredibly quiet and misty, so we moved on. A brief roadside
stop provided, as well as the usual Griffons, a
passage of three Short-toed Eagles and amazingly
our second ever Camberwell Beauty which flew
past and tantalisingly disappeared into a dry-stone wall! The rest of the day we
saw more of the same, and the following we departed from Santander out across
the Bay of Biscay.
Being in Gloucestershire strictly land-bound in terms
of sea-watching, our second crossing of Biscay was seized eagerly as one of few
chances we get to get to grips with the true oceanic species. The voyage started
quietly, and it was only mid-afternoon that the birds began to appear. First was
a small flock of Cory’s Shearwater which
appeared breath-takingly close alongside the boat. Several flocks followed and a
single Balearic Shearwater, noticeably browner
above than Manx, skimmed past. Later again, two Great
Shearwaters appeared under our noses, separated at first in silhouette by
their quicker wingbeats. Half an hour later a jet of water brought us to our
feet – a vast Fin Whale, submarine-like, second
largest mammal in the world, surfacing repeatedly, barely 200m from the boat
edge. A few Arctic Skuas bobbed by and a
long-winged, all dark shearwater with dark body was almost certainly a
Sooty Shearwater,
a frustrating miss on this would-be lifer. Tantalisingly, the huge shearwater
flocks began to appear only as the sun was setting – vast rafts of
Manx Shearwater
with all of the other species there too. As dusk came, we were puzzled by what
looked like a long, dark wave moving past us. Initially thinking it another
whale, we could make out in the dark that hundreds of tiny birds were hovering,
riding the wave – Storm Petrels. It was an
incredible end to a diverse holiday and a brilliant cross-section of France’s
diverse wildlife.
Ben Macdonald.