Lesvos; Let's Go!
My excitement had been building for weeks, it had been difficult to think of much else. I may be a sexagenarian but in my own heart and mind, I am still a giggly, excitable little kid sometimes. Our good friends, Jason and Peter had been encouraging us to go to Lesvos, a place that I'd always had on my birding radar, for a few years now. For one reason and another, we hadn't quite managed it before but in November last year, I finally made it work and we booked a week, as a toe-dipper into birding abroad. Mrs Caley and I had never taken a birding holiday anywhere other than in the British Isles. My regular reader will know that Scotland is our heartland, and it's to there that we generally head. I was reliably informed that Lesvos was easy going, and full of birds so would make an ideal place for Mrs Caley and myself to go.
Sunday 20th April
The flight was scheduled for a very (way too) early six o'clock morning departure from Stansted. With the excitement levels building, I couldn't sleep the night before and I was still up checking my old Lesvos Birding books that I bought from a BirdFair some twenty-five years ago (yep, I'd been interested in taking this trip for that long). I was soon joined by Mrs Caley and we sat drinking tea/coffee at midnight knowing that we'd have to leave home at two, in order to be at the airport for four. I always struggle sleeping if there is somewhere I have to be, apparently I have a very active mind that is always roaming; and that's despite being daft. I'm hardly ever late to arrive for anything and will usually be first to get to a meeting or a pub or whatever. I never leave anything to chance if it's under my control to leave nothing to chance.
Our drive to the airport was as expected as such, given the early hour. We saw a Fox, and a couple of Hedgehogs, but very few other road users so sped through the night towards the emerging light in the east. It was Easter Sunday, so most folk would be taking it easy. I (stupidly) thought that a public holiday weekend would be a nice quiet time to travel on an airplane. We arrived at Stansted and parked in our prearranged carpark. It was a lovely fresh morning which helped ease some of the tiredness from being awake most of the night. The walk to the terminal was easy and quiet. It was five to four when we walked through the door into the building, and entered into chaos! Noise, heat, and the sight of tons of people battered our senses. I was astonished at just how many people were in the terminal awaiting flights.
It's five years since I last attended a football match. I used to be well used to crowds of people toing and froing, and accustomed to the noise and jostling. I used to go to a lot of gigs and watch a lot of bands in stuffy cramped venues as well, and I (mis)spent lots of time in busy pubs. But these days, I occupy my time shying away from such places. The airport terminal was as close to being in hell as I could imagine at that time of day. Even at such an early hour, it was a slow trudge through passport control, made worse by me being pulled over and having to have my rucksack "swab tested" presumably because the scanner picked up work-dust on it and thought it might be something else. I was reminded of when I worked in The Netherlands once and transported a load of white grout over for the job. Despite the bags being sealed and clearly marked as containing tile grout, that didn't stop an eager official from taking one away, cutting into it and sampling the "goods". Maybe he had a bit of tiling to do at home.
The other side of the passport control booths was even more manic, and to me really was hell on earth. I hadn't been on a flight for almost ten years. When I watched my football team, I travelled frequently into Europe, and flew almost a hundred times to see them play. I travelled out of Stansted several times as well. The mega shopping experience that lay in wait was a far cry from those days in the past. A seemingly continuous curving snake of duty free shops, garishly lit with bright lights and festooned with over shiny mirrors and goods which had me reaching for the sunglasses. I wish I had ear-defenders as well. With an aura migraine oncoming, I sought a quiet corner to tuck into. That was impossible to find though with every seat, bench, and nook and cranny already taken. I was fraught, stretched so tight that I was in danger of snapping. Eventually we spotted a very uncomfortable looking "shelf" to perch on, and gladly took it.
As we sat there, watching the departure board, I noticed several familiar faces amongst the throng, people I knew from past twitches and birding days out. Lesvos was a popular choice for UK birders, I'd been told that the photography opportunities were excellent so it was no surprise to see a few well known Toggers too. As well as Jason and Peter, other friends of ours, Paul & Vicky, and Andy & Hannah, would also be on this trip. I hadn't seen any of them up to this point, hardly surprising though. The departure gate was announced, thankfully from one of the more far flung gates, which meant that we could take the shuttle to it and save our legs a bit. The first I saw of our mates was on the escalator up to the departure lounge. It was clear that this would be a full flight, and almost all of the boarders would be birders.
Flights to anywhere are pretty boring, and that's just how you want them really. I was unfortunate to be a passenger on a couple of very dodgy flights in the past. I prefer to be bored than scared. Despite those previous alarms, I'm a pretty good "flier" and still get excited at take-off and landing. I also still enjoy looking out of the windows at what's happening outside, although one green field or lake looks the same as all the others from thirty thousand feet up. Mountains are always special to see though, but looking down on them from an aeroplane rather than up from the ground does spoil the thrill a bit. I was amazed at just how many planes were "up there". There are clearly well used fly-ways high in the sky and I must have counted almost ten aircraft flying in the opposite direction. None of them looked too far away either, which was surprising given the amount of room in the stratosphere.
The worse part of flying is the airport though, whether waiting to go or after you've landed. Passport control always takes too long to get through, despite multi-levels of automation nowadays. Easter Sunday proved to be the anti-catalyst to any form of speed at Mytilini airport, since it is a big public holiday in Greece. The whole island appeared to be dozing, and there was only one passport control gate operational, and that was being manned by a couple of trainees who naturally didn't want to put a foot wrong in front of their supervisor. So it seemed that it took an age to clear the terminal and emerge into the warm sunshine of the day. Our friends were all collecting their hire cars at the airport while we were taking the bus transfer to the hotel, as advised to since this was our first trip to the island. We'd been warned that the streets of Mytilini were a navigational nightmare and that it was very easy to get confused and lost in the warren of roads. Agreeing to meet the rest at the hotel later, we now had to wait for the bus to depart. We were treated to a nice welcome by the holiday reps, and there was an offering of free Ouzo and the local bread as well as other paraphernalia. We stood and watched the myriad of House Martins that were diving in and out of their nests on the terminal building. The airport terminal was right by the beach and many of the birders were stood out with their binoculars, scanning the sea. I couldn't be arsed to join them, I just wanted to get on my way, which proved to be a mistake because when they boarded, I heard them saying things like, 'Did you get the Yelkouan Shearwaters?", and 'Was that an Audouin's Gull?', neither of which I'd seen before.
The drive through the narrow streets of the town actually proved easy, even for the driver of the fifty foot long bus because there was a hardly a soul to be seen and almost zero traffic. Driving through it myself would have been a breeze. Once out of the town the landscape looked familiar for a Mediterranean island, lots of rocky hillsides and dusty roadsides. What did surprise me was the amount of pine trees. At times it resembled Speyside; a little bit. I was also surprised to see Hooded Crows foraging by the roadside. I hadn't realised that they'd be the species of crow in these parts, thinking that they were the corvids of northern climes. The transfer time was around an hour, and it took almost half of that before we started noticing our first "interesting" birds of the trip when I spotted a pair of White Storks flying above an olive grove. Once out into the flat marshy hinterland of Kalloni Bay, we added Greater Flamingo to our list. Big birds are easy to see, even from a bus.
The bus took us past the famous Kalloni salt pans, we could see hundreds, if not thousands of birds. I couldn't wait to get out there but that would have to wait a while longer. First we had to check in to the hotel, settle in and take delivery of our hire car. We were staying at the Pesiphae Hotel, a popular choice amongst birders and we just two of several that disembarked outside. We found the reception and awaited the manager to distribute the keys. We were allocated a room up several flights of stairs, and which overlooked the posh new (and not yet quite ready) "swim-up rooms" and the hotel garden. Compared to home the view was generally one of a little slice of paradise with palm and eucalyptus trees overlooking the very welcoming looking swimming pool.
This was a budget holiday so the room was pretty basic but would do for the short one week break. If staying for any longer then I'd want a bit more, in fact a lot more. I sat on the balcony and could hear a Nightingale singing. Peter had told me that I'd soon get fed up with listening to Nightingales, because they'd be heard and seen and pretty much everywhere on Lesvos. I couldn't believe that I would, since I love them. I set about trying to find the bird and checked out the bushes and trees from the room balcony. I spotted a pair skulking under one of the thick bushes and took my first photos on Lesvos. They were almost entirely hopeless but I will cherish them because of their significance in my birding life. It would transpire however, that I would barely spend any time with Nightingales because of everything else happening.
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| Nightingale |
I tried contacting our friends but my message fell on death ears. I guessed that they had all stopped en-route and started on the birding feast that the salt pans offer, and who could blame them? So we decided to take a rest, it was still only mid-afternoon and we were pretty tired after the journey. No sooner had I dozed off, my phone rang. Not Jason and the gang but Alison from the car rental firm saying that she was waiting in the carpark with our hire car. I was keen to take the car because then our holiday could really start in earnest.
We had rented a four-wheel drive and fully automatic Suzuki Ignis. On the wise advice of our friends I also took out the complete damage waiver because I'd been warned that a lot of the driving was basically off-road along very bumpy and unmade tracks. The car looked in good condition and the white paintwork dazzled in the sunshine. I'd soon alter that. Alison's husband, Carlos (ironic I thought), took me through the basics of the cars operation but of course, I stopped listening after about five seconds, because I'd driven an automatic before even though my own car (and van) is manual transmission. After checking the car for damage and making sure that the tyres were all good, I retired back to the room to wait for the others to arrive. I should have taken the car for a quick spring around the carpark. I would certainly regret not getting accustomed to it later on that evening!
We went in search of some food, only to be told that it was Easter Sunday (I knew that) and that we'd be lucky to find any because everywhere would be shut because of the holiday. Worse still was being told that the hotel kitchen wouldn't be reopening for another couple of weeks, although they were doing a barbecue evening on Tuesday if we could hold out until then. So we went back to our room hungry. Eventually I managed to make contact with Jason and he apologised (no need to, his holiday as much as ours) for being waylaid by stopping for a brief look at the salt pans and then spending three hours there. A bit like me when I go to the pub. He offered to come and collect us, with a plan to go and find a supermarket for some basic provisions first, then take us out to the Tsiknias River and the salt pans, before finding a taverna for an evening meal. We were reliant on the others to take us around the area and "show" us the sites and birds. Jason, Peter, Vicky & Paul had visited Lesvos many times before so were very familiar with the layout. My only knowledge came from Brook's book, and I'd been reliably informed that the maps contained within were no longer accurate and the "English" place naming had been ditched in favour of the local dialect (and so it should). The Tsiknias River was called the East River in the books for example.
The fun began when I started the car. Or rather the frustrating agony did. In my defence, I was fried, tired almost to the extreme and my ability to compute the necessary computations to drive the car was acutely lacking, especially since I generally consider myself to be a decent driver. Gunning the one litre engine up was easy enough, once I'd realised that the brake needed depressing rather than the non-existent clutch to make it work. My biggest failure was, other than not listening closely enough to Carlos earlier was not realising that to perform any change to the car's action, that that brake pedal had to be pressed every time. The other big problem was that I couldn't find the neutral/park function for the gearstick! Every function was marked; reverse, drive, first etc but no P/N. Eventually Jason got bored of waiting and came to offer help. I was going nowhere! Mrs Caley started laughing and didn't stop.
Finally I got the Suzuki into gear and we got on the road. The car drove like a good 'un, despite having done almost 80,000 kilometres in its presumably shortish lifetime. I thought that was a lot of miles for a car based on a small Greek island, although that notion altered somewhat by the end of the week when I'd filled it up twice after adding over another thousand to it. I followed the others into Skala Kalloni, the small village by Kalloni Bay, and circumnavigated through some narrow streets out into farmland. There was hardly a soul to be seen, and I wondered just what the Lesbians (yep, that's what the good folk of Lesvos, or Lesbos as it's also known, are called) did on an Easter Sunday holiday; they weren't outdoors that's for sure. Jason left the bumpy and barely made-up roads of the village behind and drove onto the bumpy and unmade-up tracks of the surrounding countryside. I had a vague idea that we were heading eastwards towards the salt pans. I thought we were heading to a shop for essentials, but hey there'd be time for that later.
The lead car stopped suddenly and my four friends, we hadn't seen Andy & Hannah since the airport, disembarked. I thought they had a problem but then saw them staring across a small field, and scrabbling to get their optics out of their car. I leant out of the car window and asked what was up? 'Bee-eaters!', came the reply. I was out of the car in a shot, yelling excitedly to Mrs Caley to join me. We could see maybe half a dozen of the most colourful birds perched up in small bushes. They would fly out to snare a snack (I was jealous of that, my tum was rumbling) and then return to perch again. I've seen plenty of Bee-eaters in the UK before but this was an exciting start to the holiday nonetheless. They were distant so my views of the last ones I saw on a wet day in Aberdeenshire weren't rivalled at that stage, apart from that the birds looked much nicer against a nice blue sky, until I heard some overhead. Looking up I saw three, perched right at the top of a scraggly tree. Now my camera had some work to do.
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| Bee-eater |
The whole flock of the round dozen Bee-eaters were now wheeling around our heads. They called their lovely soft flutey rolling whistles as they flew from their perches to catch their food. This was now as close as I'd ever been to Bee-eaters so I revelled in the chance to take as many photos as I could. Peter had told me that in some years, Bee-eaters abound on Lesvos, in others there are barely any to be found. Hopefully this would prove to be one of the good springs for them; I don't think I could ever tire of seeing them.
I would have watched the Bee-eaters all night, and was happy to run around under the tree, looking for the best angle for photos. The Bee-eaters myriad of rainbow colours make them very special indeed. With the species having attempted breeding in a disused quarry in Norfolk for the past couple of years, it seems as if the species may become a part of the UK avian fauna in the future. One of the few plus points of global warming.
When the flock departed in the direction that we were heading, we followed. Not quickly because I had to engage the car into drive, which took me a few minutes again. Trying to make sense of the car was testing me, and it was an exam that I wasn't going to pass unless I twigged soon. The beeping noises that accompanied almost everything that I was doing (wrong) was annoying. Mrs Caley still couldn't stop giggling. I like her to be happy though so at least I was entertaining her of a fashion. A clown-like fashion that is. I would have looked like a circus clown trying to drive that car, and I can still picture myself in flashbacks, wearing a curly wig, with a big shiny nose, and scratching the top of my head, while kicking the ruddy thing!
We joined a dusty track at the top of a bank and pulled up alongside the fabled Tsiknias River. Water is at a premium on Mediterranean islands, and is a magnet for migratory birds. Lesvos, at its closet point, is just five miles away from the mainland of Turkey. Birds flying northwards over thousands of miles of the dry and arid terrain of the Middle-East, and Eastern Africa are drawn to the island of green placed invitingly in the surrounding sea, and offers a perfect stopover for the tired birds. The Tsiknias is famous for attracting a myriad of waterbirds, especially Herons and Wading Birds. We stopped at the famous "Lower Ford", a stony crossing of the river where a patch of reeds upstream attracts many birds, and is a hotspot for Crake species amongst others. The river, and the ford are also a big draw for the birdwatchers. I recognised a fair few from the flight, stood lining the bank, and there was a line of hire cars parked alongside. I had more trouble with the car, there had to be a trick that I hadn't sussed out yet, but my attention was diverted when Jason calmly walked by and announced that there was a flock of Purple Herons flying across the track ahead of us.
Of course, Jason and the others were old hands at this so the sight of twenty-one of Purple Herons was standard fare for them, for us however, it was awesome. I was watching around four times as many Purple Herons than I'd seen in my life before, and they were all perched momentarily in the same tree! The Purple Herons had clearly just arrived on the island and were looking for somewhere to settle. To see the flock flying one way then another, was thrilling. Less than an hour's birding on Lesvos and I was awestruck. Why hadn't I come here before? Now I was here, I was enjoying every moment. Except when I had to move the car that was. A farmer happened along, driving an ancient tractor. It was a tight squeeze to get past the cars. I decided to edge mine further into the grass covered bank. By the time I'd gotten the engine into drive, the farmer was long gone! I'd had enough of the shenanigans, so called on help from my friends to try and sort me out. The fact that we were all stumped wasn't exactly reassuring either. In the end, a friend of Jason's leant through the window and explained that the neutral had to be engaged before changing into drive. The position of neutral gear was the only one that wasn't denoted by a letter or number next to it. I could have screamed with frustration at myself for not realising that. Once I'd been shown, my travails were over. I was driving like a boss from that moment on.
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| Purple Heron |
Now the driving lark had become a breeze, we nudged our vehicles closer to the flock of Purple Herons which were still showing interest in a row of taller trees on the bank of the river. When perched in the trees they actually became hard to see so the best views were had when they took to the air. The river itself obviously didn't quite suit the birds because they alternated between touching down in the trees and wheeling around above us and over the adjacent fields. On a few passes, a couple of the birds came close enough for me take some dedicated shots. I've always been lucky with Purple Herons and have been rewarded for photos taken of some before. They are gorgeous birds. Lesvos so far was like a technicolour dream!
After reaching the main road, Jason turned his car towards the town of Kalloni. Not wanting to get lost, I knew it would take me a few days to get my bearings, I closely followed. This was the first time that I'd driven a car on a "proper" road in a different country since I worked in The Netherlands some twenty years ago. It was also the first time in my life that I'd driven a left-hand drive car so it took me a while to get my spacial awareness updated! Fortunately there was little else on the road, and I just about missed the cat that was minding its own business as it sauntered down the gutter. The supermarket was, as expected, closed until the morning but we managed to find a smaller convenience store open, where we could buy some essentials like water, orange juice and snacks. We all headed back to the hotel for a short rest and freshen up.
Following the others once more, we were led out to the salt pans which lay to the east of the Tsiknias. I'd been eagerly looking forward to checking them out, since I knew they were the main birding spot on the island and covered many square miles. Salt production is big industry in the warm countries of the Mediterranean. The saline shallow lakes are generally full of birds, most noticeably the Greater Flamingos that we'd seen from the bus earlier. In the middle of the site is a huge flat-topped mountain of trying salt.
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| Salt! & Greater Flamingos |
The lakes are surrounded by shallow water channels, and they hold tons of wading birds. We left the main road and pulled up immediately to scan the wide perimeter channel. Feeding close to the road were Black-winged Stilts, Avocets, and Wood Sandpipers. All offered superb viewing, especially the Wood Sandpipers, which appeared to be everywhere. Indeed by the end of the day we would have seen well over two hundred of the elegant waders, including over a hundred on one small pool. I was rapidly becoming mind-blown by the amount and quality of birds on offer.
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| Black-winged Stilt |
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| Wood Sandpiper |
Before I left for Lesvos, as well as doing as much research as I could, I also drew up a list of potential "life ticks", and another list of birds that I'd seen before but wanted better photos of. Just a couple of hours into the holiday birding and I had the first addition to my life list in the shape of a Crested Lark. I knew from talking to the others, that this would be a very common bird on the island and wouldn't take much trouble to see, and so it proved. We'd already seen a few before I stopped to photograph one suitably perched on one of the rusty fences that Lesvos is famed for. In Britain, a Crested Lark would spark a sizeable twitch. In the following twenty minutes of driving around the salt pans, I reckoned I saw around thirty more!
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| Crested Lark |
We stopped by the salt mound and walked for a while. Further good birds followed. Andy & Hannah had joined us on this evening drive, and he found a flock of eleven Ruddy Shelduck on one of the marshy fields. There were no questions over their legitimacy here on Lesvos. There were Great & Little Egrets, and some Grey Herons feeding alongside the Flamingos on the pans. A (Great) Bittern flew past heading towards the river that we'd looked at earlier. Every way we looked we found something different. Best of all, a pair of Black Storks soared low overhead, one of which appeared just as interested in me pointing the camera skywards at it, as I was in the bird itself. I'd seen Black Storks in the UK, four in fact, including a self-found bird at Dungeness on a day out once, but none were seen as close and as well as these. Black Storks are strange looking birds, and offer a throwback to prehistoric times with more than a passing similarity with the flying pterosaurs depicted in dinosaur books. Note the shot below that shows one of the Black Storks with a Crested Lark, which illustrates the huge size of the Stork.
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| Black Stork (& Crested Lark) |
Another bird that I expected to see whilst on Lesvos, and one that was very high on my list of "wants" was the Red-throated Pipit. I find Pipits one of the hardest families of birds to identify, especially juvenile birds since most are similarly streaked brown birds. I needn't have worried about identifying an adult Red-throated Pipit though, the bird that was pointed out to me perched on another of the rusty fence lines, although probably a more subdued plumaged female, was so obviously red-throated that it couldn't be anything else. I like birds that are named after "what it says on the tin", it makes birding that little bit easier. The Pipit dropped to the floor and pecked around the bottom of the fence next to the small stream that separated us on the track from the salt pans.
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| Red-throated Pipit |
Another Crested Lark posed, and several Wood Sandpipers scurried around the dried up muddy areas. There was so much to see that my head was spinning round as I tried to take it all in. More birds presented themselves; Ruff and Shelduck on the pools and grassland, Corn Buntings seemingly singing from every bush and Crested Larks running on the road. And Swifts, only a few but Swifts, one of my favourite birds. I'm pretty sure they were Common Swifts but later in the trip I'd be looking for Alpine & Pallid Swifts, both of which are resident or migratory through Lesvos.
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| Crested Lark |
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| Wood Sandpiper |
A male Red-throated Pipit was seen on the same fence, the pinkish-red extending down the breast and onto the face; a real beauty. It shared the fence with a male Black-headed Yellow Wagtail (Motacilla flava feldegg), not a lifer because it's another subspecies of our usual Yellow Wagtail (M f flavissima) found at home. The striking black head made it appear a lot more exotic though, and it was the first I'd ever seen.
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| Red-throated Pipit |
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| Black-headed Yellow Wagtail |
For my money the best bird of the day was heard before we saw it, and it was a bird that I didn't expect to see on my first evening on the island. We could all hear the "zip, zip" call of the bird but of course I needed the others to tell me what it was and to point out. The Zitting Cisticola was singing while flying overhead and then landing out of sight in the rough grasses in the field over a fence where the Ruddy Shelducks had been spotted a few minutes before. We watched the Cisticola (formerly known as a Fan-tailed Warbler) take several flights over us but it always flew into cover. The one time when it perched briefly on the fence nearest to us, I wasn't quick enough to grab a photo. There was talk of leaving to find some dinner. I needed a break so wasn't arguing against the plans, but thankfully the opportunity to get images of the bird presented itself not long after when the bird flew onto a tall umbellifer and carried on singing and displaying from there. I was on to it and rattled off some photos. I was delighted with the results too, I'd managed to capture the odd looking warbler (although strictly speaking actually a cousin of the Prinia family) in full song and the images were pretty sharp too. My third lifer of the evening set the seal on a brilliant first outing into Lesvos.
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| Zitting Cisticola |
The rest of the gang returned to the hotel for a quick change and then walked to the restaurant of choice. We were too tired so drove there instead. It had been a long day and we were whacked, so we ate and then rather boringly made our excuses and went back to the hotel. My "tour guides" had promised me another day of the same level of excitement, and we needed to sleep, but thankfully we would be taking it easy tomorrow and taking a leisurely breakfast first before heading back to the salt pans. I fell asleep happily listening to the monotonous call of a Scops Owl coming from the grounds of the hotel. I'd be hoping to see a few during the coming week.
It had been a fantastic start!
Birds seen 20-04-2025; 1) House Martin, 2) Swallow, 3) Hooded Crow, 4) Starling, 5) Collared Dove, 6) Yellow-legged Gull, 7) White Stork, 8) Greater Flamingo, 9) Wood Sandpiper, 10) Nightingale, 11) Cetti's Warbler, 12) Bee-eater, 13) Purple Heron, 14) Grey Heron, 15) Black-winged Stilt, 16) Avocet, 17) Great Egret, 18) Little Egret, 19) Black Stork, 20) Ruff, 21) Shelduck, 22) Ruddy Shelduck, 23) Crested Lark, 24) Common Swift, 25) Corn Bunting, 26) Bittern, 27) Black-headed Yellow Wagtail, 28) Red-throated Pipit, 29) Greenfinch, 30) Reed Warbler,, 31) Zitting Cisticola
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