LESVOS!!! Part 4; The Birds Keep-a-Coming!

Wednesday 23rd April 2025

After the long(ish) journey and tough driving of the day before, the plan was for a more restful time spent at some local sites. Late on the evening before, a Baillon's Crake was discovered at the Tsiknias ford so, because it would be another lifer for us, we were keen to get there and see it. Not as keen as our companions though, since their idea of getting to the ford before breakfast didn't get through to us. Never-mind though, we made it there ourselves, my own independence with driving and familiarity with the island layout was rapidly improving, once we'd eaten.

Apparently the Baillon's Crake had shown well amongst the reeds that line the channel of the slow moving river by the ford. Paul showed me a couple of frames off the back of his camera, and I was keen to add some of my own. We found a Crake quickly enough but it turned out to be one of the Little Crakes that favour the same area of river. Another female, we had seen around half a dozen since spotting the male at Metochi Lake on our first full day. Males of any species would appear to be outnumbered by females in those that you could differentiate.

Little Crake

Glimpses of other birds set the pulse racing, Reed & Cetti's warblers appeared frequently at the base of the reeds plus there was at least three Little Crakes in total but there was no show from the Baillon's Crake. Around twenty other birders had gathered and there were sporadic claims that the Baillon's was still there. However, after two hours of patient waiting and earnest scouring of the riverbed, we still hadn't seen the target bird. Anxiety was rising; when you only have a week, then you get a nagging feeling that you're wasting valuable time on a single bird when there are loads more to see on the island as well. Twitching isn't called twitching for nothing!

Reed Warbler

Cetti's Warbler

A beautiful clear trilling song cut through the bright and clear air. A male Black-headed Bunting was perched atop a nearby bush and showing superbly well. The bird we saw at Faneromeni the day before would have been part of the vanguard of the species arriving on Lesvos. We would go on to see lots more over the rest of the week. This bird was absolutely resplendent and provided a diversion against straining our focus towards the river. The male Black-headed Bunting is a thing of colourful beauty and an extremely exuberant songster as well.

Black-headed Bunting

We crossed to the other side of the Tsiknias, where a small group of birders appeared to be excited by something. One of them told me that they had just seen the Baillon's Crake well, right tight up against the bank, a spot that couldn't be seen from the other side because the reeds screened it. Of course, as soon as we left the west side, the birders over there started pointing and chattering excitedly, since they could now see the Baillon's. It seemed as if our good fortune that we'd enjoyed so far, had dissipated. We were getting really twitchy feet, when some thirty minutes later, we finally saw the Baillon's Crake. Only for about three seconds though, when it scarpered rapidly across a small gap in the vegetation. It was a strikingly blue coloured bird though, my favourite type of bird, because blue is the colour, and pretty unmistakable, appearing like a tiny Water Rail on acid! It was too quick for me to even think about raising my camera, and it never reappeared in the following half hour. I'm grateful to Paul for lending me his excellent photo for my keepsake of another lifer.

Baillon's Crake (courtesy of Paul Wren)

We left to head over to another part of the Kalloni Salt Pans where our friends were watching birds that we'd yet to see, including another potential lifer for us. It took us a while to get there because we made a few stops to look at other birds on the way. We noted at least six more Black-headed Buntings singing from exposed perches and admired a small flock of Bee-eaters perched on some overhead wires, and a few scattered trees next to them. Best of all, with consideration towards our trip list, was the sighting of two Great Spotted Cuckoos flying away across the fields. I thought they'd landed in an olive grove, but a five minute wait for them to reappear came to nothing. Those two birds doubled our life total of the species after birds seen on the Isles of Portland & Wight in the UK. 

Bee-eater

Our destination was another hide overlooking the salt pans, this one as imaginatively named as the others, hide number 1 which is placed overlooking the eastern side of the complex. Our friends had sent a message telling of Collared Pratincoles and Slender-billed Gulls a short way along the track that followed the main perimeter channel. In my wisdom, to save time which turned out to be a foolish move, I drove along the track towards the white hire car that I'd been chasing for three days. After a bumpy drive we pulled up and joined our mates. Unfortunately the Pratincoles had gone, but the main quarry, the group of five Slender-billed Gulls were still stood in the shallow water so we were able to add that species to the life list. They were distant but we had good scope views.

Slender-billed Gulls (& Cormorant)

A large flock of Greater Flamingos were parked close to the Slender-billed Gulls. Most of them were asleep. The long-legged pink birds certainly lent an air of the tropics to the proceedings, and I decided if only I had a Pina Colada to go with them then life would be almost complete. But I was the designated driver so I had to make do with another bottle of water instead.

Greater Flamingo

Trying to hide in plain sight amongst the Flamingos but failing because they are absolutely huge, were a pair of Dalmatian Pelicans. The two hulking great big "mouthed" Pelicans dwarfed their pink neighbours. We had seen a Dalmatian Pelican before, having caught up with the bird that toured Cornwall a few years back in atrocious weather on the Camel Estuary. There the Pelican was stood way out from the shore and the bulk of it couldn't really be appreciated. Here, comparison with the tall Flamingos showed just how impressive the Pelicans are. I'd love to see them even closer up, and would really have liked to have photographed one in flight, as Peter had before we arrived.

Dalmatian Pelican

The fun began when we decided that lunch was in order. There were our two cars plus two others that had followed us in. There was nowhere to turn around with a deep ditch one side of the track and the salt pan channel on the other. Fortunately our friends had been in this situation before and recalled a gateway further along the track. But we'd all have to go and turn around in convoy since there were no passing places anywhere else along the track. That was fine until one of the other drivers had enormous difficulty in turning his car around. At one point he was inches away from toppling over into the ditch. When we did finally all make it facing the right way out, we then had a painfully slow drive back to the road as the same chap took extreme care negotiating the bumpy surface. Mind you, he was in a Corsa, so you couldn't blame him really. We were bringing up the rear as usual, but that at least gave us the chance of stopping abruptly to admire a flock of nineteen Glossy Ibis that stood on a small island about half a mile out on the salt pan. Heat shimmer thwarted any chance of getting photos though.

Over a very tasty club sandwich lunch, the next move was discussed. By our friends mostly, because we had no idea where else would be worth going to although I imagined that anywhere would probably be worth checking out. We jumped in the cars and after a rash idea of just racing away and driving willy-nilly into the hills, I fell in behind the lead car once more. Our mini convoy of two took to the open roads and headed out south-westwards, over the Christou River and past the turning to Metochi Lake and the Potamia Valley that we'd visited. two days ago. After twenty minutes or so, Jason turned off the empty main road and on to an empty minor road. We reached a small seaside village, turned round and headed back up the same road again. They were obviously looking for somewhere (else). Almost back at the main road next to a sharp bend, our friends stopped abruptly. In what I had now realised was a good sign, all four of them jumped out and started looking up at the sky, so I followed suit as quickly as I could urging Mrs Caley to do the same. The bird they'd spotted was a bird of prey, in fact a Buzzard of some type, and it was soaring above the hillside a little further ahead. I joined the others and asked what they thought it was. The identification of Long-legged Buzzard was just what I wanted to hear. We watched the bird for a good few minutes before it moved away over the ridge line. All Buzzards look very similar, I struggle a bit with identifying them, but to be fair I'd only ever seen two species before plus Honey Buzzard, but even I could see that the rufous tail of this bird and the Rough-legged Buzzard (the other that I'd seen before) type profile stood it apart from our usual Common Buzzards. The Long-legged Buzzard appeared to be clutching something in its talons but I couldn't clearly make it out, but I'm guessing a lizard of some description.

Long-legged Buzzard

We turned off the tarmac road on to a track. Even though the others were only just ahead of us, we could no longer see them, owing to the vast clouds of dust that they were throwing up in front of us. Thus I almost drove into the back of them when they stopped sharply again. It took a while for the clouds to thin out enough before I could see that they'd stopped for a bird that was perched on a rock just above the track. This bird was unmistakable, even though I'd never seen one before. It was a "what it says on the tin" bird, a Nuthatch on a rock; a Rock Nuthatch! The second lifer in the space of five minutes and the fourth of the day. I really had to hand it to our guides, they kept on coming up trumps.

Rock Nuthatch

The track led on through the valley, I'd learn a bit later that it was called the Makara Valley. We saw no other vehicles and no other people at all. The track narrowed but was no less dusty. I noticed that our lead car had stopped again. Our mates hadn't leapt out this time so I wondered why they'd parked up. Then I saw another bird of prey sail across the road in front of their car. No problems with identifying this one, it was much bigger than the Long-legged Buzzard, pale coloured, and clearly a Short-toed Eagle. We had better, more prolonged views of our second "Snake Eagle", and remained watching it even when the others carried on ahead of us. I knew that the track would probably meet the sea at some point so abandoned any nervousness of being "left behind". Besides the Eagle had us entirely captivated, and when a second bird joined it in the sky, that awe increased again. Lesvos was producing quality birds at every turn even when the road was straight.

Short-toed Eagle

The track petered out next to a large swathe of pebbled beach. We could see the Nissan parked up by a bridge at the other end so drove along the top of the beach and once again rejoined our company. Apparently when they had stopped on the track before, the Eagle had initially been stood on a rock just metres away. How I'd have loved to have seen that, and I dreamt of the photos I'd have gained. Maybe on a future trip, we'd strike lucky. The bridge was of new construction and spanned another shallow and rocky waterway. Downstream the river flowed into the shiny blue Aegean Sea. Inland it snaked past overhanging bushes and vegetation. White Wagtails were hunting insects on the track, and a Little Egret left a small flock of the same and flew obligingly over our heads as we walked towards the bridge.

White Wagtail

Little Egret

Out at sea, around a hundred Yelkouan Shearwaters were feeding. We'd missed these birds when waiting impatiently for the bus transfer from the airport to get going. Now we could scrutinise them at ease, even though they were far off shore and our views were hampered by the dreaded afternoon heat shimmer. Of course, this was another life tick, a slightly underwhelming one since the views weren't as good as those we'd had of other new birds on this trip, but a lifer nonetheless. If you try really hard, you can just make out a yacht in the photo of them below.

Yelkouan Shearwaters (!)

Back on the landward, or rather the skyward, side of the beach, we focussed in on some high flying birds. Hawking above the hillsides was a mini-squadron of Alpine Swifts. Along with fellow Swift addict Paul, I couldn't take my eyes off the denizens of the air. No bird masters the airspace like a Swift, they truly "live" in it like no other. We quickly established that, when a couple of the Alpine Swifts breezed past our heads, they were using the river to drink from. Swifts don't perch by the waterside to drink, they scoop up a bill-full of water as they fly just above the surface. This was an opportunity to enjoy one of my favourite birding pastimes, to try to photograph the fast moving Swifts. Over the next ten minutes, I tried hard to nail a top photo. Unsurprisingly I was ultimately unsuccessful in achieving my ambition, probably because my aim wasn't quite quick enough.

Alpine Swift

Sharing the skies with the Alpine Swifts, although not quite "owning" them in the same way, were various raptors. We noted a Marsh Harrier, several Common Buzzards, and a (Common) Kestrel. Rock Doves, our first of the trip, passed through as well. Best of all was a Lesser Kestrel that drifted over high up, so high that my photos were scarcely an improvement on my efforts of the day before. What I really wanted was to find a raptor or three, perched up on a tree. That was unlikely though, since trees weren't the oft used staging posts in the parts, rocks were far more probable to be used because they were everywhere!

Lesser Kestrel

We took a short exploratory walk away from the river on a track that ended at a locked gate, but were soon back at the bridge again, because there was a barely a bird to be seen away from the water. I spotted a Little Ringed Plover on a miniature muddy island close to where the Alpine Swifts were flying in to take sips of water. A Common Sandpiper dropped in and landed on a rock which looked uncannily like the "oyster" rock on which I see them frequently on Lochindorb in The Highlands of Scotland some two thousand miles away. There were both (Common) Shelduck and Ruddy Shelduck on the beach near the river mouth. One of the Ruddy Shelducks obliged us by flying up the river and passing right next to us. 

Little Ringed Plover

Common Sandpiper

Ruddy Shelduck

A call from Paul alerted me to the fact that the Alpine Swifts were back and swinging their way back towards us, giving me a second chance at capturing them via the camera. Results were a bit better than before and I had great fun. I could have photographed them all day to be honest, and should have scrambled across the rock sized pebbles in order to get a better angle but I knew there wouldn't be time.

When the Alpine Swifts "hit" the water they were flying away from us, towards the sea and into the sun. Despite that I did try to catch them in the act. Of course I did. I had much better luck when they banked and flew low back upriver on their way to feed high above the hillsides again.

Vicky  had found a rather large insect perched along a tall pampas grass stem. I think it was a Locust, not one of the marauding and swarming desert types that would foretell of impending doom, but a far more likeable looking animal. The Locust was at least three inches long and was intricately beautiful. I'd never seen one before, and even if it turned out to be something else, like a Grasshopper on steroids, I was very impressed. Lesvos had many creatures that we'd never encountered before, such as lizards and snakes, as well as butterflies and bees and stuff.

Locust

Jason and I were stood on the bridge, discussing what was still to come in the remaining days of the trip, when he suddenly exclaimed, 'Little Bittern!' A female had flown in and landed on the edge of the river. My excitement got the better of me and I loudly called Mrs Caley when I should have whispered. She'd already spotted the bird though and was looking at it through her raised binoculars. I took a quick look through mine and then set about focussing my camera on it. Initially the Little Bittern was hard to see, since it stood motionless on the grassy edge of the river. After a few minutes the Little Bittern settled and adopted fishing mode, stealthily leaning closer and closer to the water surface. Then in an explosion of energy, it lunged into the water and caught the unsuspecting fish that it had spied.

Little Bittern

We all stood entranced as the Little Bittern fished, catching minnow after minnow. I took photos, a lot would be headed straight for the bin, but a few were keepers and easily outstripped my previous photos of the species. Now all I needed in the Little Bittern stakes was a striking male bird, hopefully closer than the hundred yards away one that I encountered in Shropshire once. For now the female would suffice, how could it not?!

The Little Bittern flew upstream and out of sight bringing that little session to a close. I wasn't bored though since the Alpine Swift crew returned for more refreshments. One of them almost shaved the last few remaining hairs off my nod as it swept past.

Peter found a Cirl Bunting perched in a bush next to the parked cars. Again not a strikingly marked male but a more subduedly plumaged female type. I like Cirl Buntings, which at home take a special effort to see because they are largely restricted to the south-west of England. They are special birds here on Lesvos too, but then almost every bird here seems to be special. This bird, preening after taking a bath, even very obliging showed the olive-green rump which distinguishes it from the similar Yellowhammer.

Cirl Bunting

We lost the others on the drive back to base because we stopped to watch a distant Short-toed Eagle, probably one of the pair we saw earlier. It was too far away to photograph but it was so pleasant just standing and admiring its soaring flight that a chunk of time slipped away. I was still in a dreamlike state when I drove straight past the turning into the hotel and ended up doubling back along "owl alley" where we'd seen the Scops Owl two days before. It would have been remiss of us not to stop and look for the owls again.

I parked in the tiny church parking area, only to be confronted by a local before I'd even made it out to the road. I couldn't understand a word of what he said of course, but it was clear that, by his gesticulations, I had parked in his "spot". Whether or not he actually owned the six foot wide strip of gravel, I had no idea, but I know that its best not to rile the locals wherever you go and much better to befriend than make enemies. So I happily moved the hire car out onto the street, where it was probably safer judging by the amount of dents and scratches on the local chaps van. Unless he moved to the church carpark because it was too dangerous to park on the road.

We found a Scops Owl in the exact same tree as one had been in before. However, this time there was no peering into a hole in the eucalyptus tree to see one because there was a fine looking bird stood boldly out on a branch that overhung the road edge. The Scops Owl was watching something below the tree and was in full alarm mode with its ear tufts standing proud. Although it did glare back at us as I took photos, it was wholly concerned with the cat that was prowling along the verge. The same cat, there are hundreds of feral cats around Skala Kalloni, especially in the village centre, sidled up to us and seemed friendly enough. Probably not to the Owl though.

Scops Owl

Incredibly there was a Long-eared Owl, presumably the same one, in the exact same tree that we'd seen one in forty-eight hours before as well. In fact it was perched on exactly the same branch. Owls are creatures of habit and will often choose the same roost spots. Of course, both species would be breeding at this time of year, the Scops Owls in their eucalyptus tree nest hole and the Long-eared Owls somewhere in the stand of conifers in the churchyard itself. Another chap told me that he'd seen "branching" Long-eared Owl youngsters the week before. Despite searching hard, I couldn't find any more of them but I was happy enough to see the one that was perched just metres above my head. You definitely don't get the opportunity to observe these fantastic birds at such close quarters in the UK.

Long-eared Owl

Happy with our stroke of luck in missing the turning and jamming in on the Owls, instead of heading back to the hotel we decided to drive back to the salt pans. There were still a few birds that we'd yet to see, and I was hoping that the Baillon's Crake would still be by the lower ford of the Tsiknias river. I was in complete control of the car now and no longer had any reservations about driving it, plus I had gained a rudimentary grasp of the islands road and track layout so was feeling more at ease with finding my way around. The first stop I made though was to the so called, "Pump-house channel" on the salt pans. Ot's a smelly spot, owing to its proximity to the local water treatment plant but one of the birds that was top of my Lesvos wish list had been seen there during the day while we were elsewhere. The Spur-winged Plover was exactly where it was supposed to be on the muddy far bank of the channel. A long-legged member of the Plover family it is called Spur-winged because of a remnant claw on the bend of each its wings. This feature can't be easily seen however, but the bird is still easily identified owing to its contrasting black and white body plumage. As I gazed out at the bird from the window of the car, I have to say I was slightly confused because the bird didn't appear to have very long legs at all. I took a few photos and it was only when I edited them later that I realised the bird had been knelt down!

Spur-winged Plover

A Black-winged Stilt was present nearby, and of course had very long legs of its own. It seemed to be looking at the Plover and thinking, "Hmmm, you're not so tall are you? Not like me!" The Spur-winged Plover then actually decided to lay down on the mud so that it appeared completely legless. I made a note to return later in the week and check the bird out again.

Black-winged Stilt

We took a back-track through an olive grove, past a mulberry tree famous for hosting Rosy Starlings although none were present yet, and rejoined the track that formed the east bank of the Tsiknias river. On a wire we spotted a small group of Bee-eaters, so I drove slowly up alongside them. With the window open I took photos of one bird that was preening and which didn't appear at all concerned with our presence. Over the next few minutes I took photos that surpassed the ones that I was delighted with on our first outing and these were easiest my best of a perched Bee-eater ever. Everyone loves a Bee-eater and with seemingly so many on Lesvos, it was great to be able to view them at such close range. The lulling purr of the calls made by the Bee-eaters is delightful as well, and unmistakable, so you would often know if they were around even if you couldn't see them.

Bee-eater (& bee!)

As we exited the car on parking up next to the lower ford, a Peregrine flew overhead. Apparently Peregrines are "good" birds to get on Lesvos proving that birds that are relatively common at home can be difficult birds to see here. We were hoping to see some scarcer (back at home) species of falcon while on Lesvos but thus far, we'd not had a sniff of those other than the Lesser Kestrels. The Peregrine however, would actually be the "rarest" falcon that we'd see on Lesvos. A couple of Mediterranean Gulls also went over, their loud cat-like calls alerted us to their presence.

Peregrine Falcon

We studied the reeds and vegetation again in the river. Quite a crowd had assembled on a beautiful late afternoon and now the sun was away in the west so was illuminating the scene brightly for us. There didn't appear to be as many birds though although the usual suspects were around. A few of the Wood Sandpipers were feeding frantically on some of the million gnats. Being used to seeing wading birds primarily scuttling around on muddy edges to lakes or, in Oxfordshire, concrete edges to reservoirs, the Sandpipers looked a bit conspicuous in the river although it was becoming the norm. At least ten Black-headed Wagtails were also grabbing supper.

Wood Sandpiper

There were Crakes in the river still, but they were all Little Crakes. The Baillon's from earlier must have moved further up the river so we wouldn't be getting any better views than the three-second snapshot from the morning. Still, with the light helping, the Little Crakes showed better than before and my own photos of them improved. Again the birds, at least three, were all females. I wondered if all of the male Crakes had gone down the local "Crake Pub" for the day.

The best birds came later. We were watching a large mixed flock of hirundines and Swifts feeding high up, and a Lesser Kestrel flew straight through showing a faint interest in a couple of the Swallows. The same male Black-headed Bunting was still singing from the same bush, and we heard a Turtle Dove, and better still our first Hoopoe of the trip. A guy we'd met at Faneromeni the day before, well met Raymond, spotted an incoming Red-footed Falcon. The falcon was flying towards our location and was hunting large flying insects. I'd expected to see Red-foots while here but this would actually prove to be the only one that we'd see. It was a female and looked great in the warm sunshine.

Red-footed Falcon

I must admit I wanted a male Red-footed Falcon much more than a female since I'd never seen an adult male of the species, and had already seen three females this year in the UK. However, this particular bird afforded us excellent views for over half an hour, as it easily plucked dragonflies and other flying insects out of the air. The first twitch we ever did was for a female Red-footed Falcon that had graced a newly dug borrow pit for the M40 not far from home. That bird helped to ramp up our interest in birds and we followed up the next day by twitching a Squacco Heron in the Cotswold Water Park. We were hooked from that weekend on.

Quite apt then, as we drove back to Skala Kalloni as the light began to fade, that I spotted a familiar shape stood on the far bank of the Tsiknias. Lit up like a beacon by the remnants of the sunshine was a fabulous Squacco Heron. We watched it for about ten minutes until the sun dipped behind the hills and the our part of the world was cast in shadows for the night. With that we headed in and brought the curtain down on another bird packed day. A day that had given us another six lifers making it twenty in all in just four days!

Squacco Heron

Birds seen 23-05-2025; Little Crake, 90) Black-headed Bunting, Cetti's warbler, 91) Great Spotted Cuckoo, Black Stork, 92) Baillon's Crake, Bee-eater, Reed Warbler, Greater Flamingo, 93) Dalmatian Pelican, 94) Slender-billed Gull, Avocet, 95) Little Tern, Common Tern, Crested Lark, Grey Heron, 96) (Great) Cormorant, 97) Glossy Ibis, Shelduck, 98) Rock Nuthatch, 99) Long-legged Buzzard, 100) Yelkouan Shearwater, Short-toed Eagle, 101) Rock Dove, Little Egret, Yellow-legged Gull, Alpine Swift, Ruddy Shelduck, Little Ringed Plover, White Wagtail, Yellow Wagtail, Kestrel, 102) Jackdaw, Lesser Kestrel, 103) Common Sandpiper, Marsh Harrier, Great Reed Warbler, Little Bittern, Wood Sandpiper, 104) Cirl Bunting, 105) Hoopoe, Scops Owl, Long-eared Owl, Jay, 106) Spur-winged Plover, 107) Peregrine Falcon, Black-winged Stilt, (Black-headed) Yellow Wagtail, 108) Mediterranean Gull, Turtle Dove, 109) Red-footed Falcon, 110) Squacco Heron, Sand Martin, House Martin, Swallow, (Common) Swift, Red-rumped Swallow, (Common) Buzzard