Tuesday 22nd April
It was still dark when we met with our friends in the carpark at six o'clock, and eerily still with little wind. The silence was palpable and our own sounds seemed amplified in the rarified air. We were heading out in convoy to the west of Lesvos via the Sigri road, which had recently been upgraded to a brand new highway, shaving lots of time off the journey. Our primary destination was a place called Faneromeni where a ford crossed a river, then later we'd drive through the famous Meladia Valley. The plan to get there early just as light appeared in the sky was necessary because the river provided much needed water for thirsty birds, the ford would potentially attract many birders to witness what dropped in, and there were limited parking opportunities.
I followed the unofficial lead tour car out of the hotel, through Kalloni and out onto the open road. Jason put the pedal to the floor and I did my best to keep up. This was the first time that I'd driven at a higher speed on Lesvos. The new road was superb; smooth, wide and not a pothole in sight! However, after just ten miles or so of easy gliding along, we were confronted by a stretch of barriers blocking the road entirely. Incredibly our fun on the new surface was short-lived and we had to divert onto a less pleasant, bendy and older road which climbed and twisted through hilly country. I could sense the others frustration ahead of us. For my part I was concentrating entirely on driving the car, but at least I could follow the tail lights of the Nissan ahead so knew what was coming up. Just a minor near disaster with a dog which Jason narrowly avoided, and we rejoined the main road by the village of Vatoussa which was still sleeping at this hour. We sped on, passing the Ipsilou Monastery, which I hoped we'd visit later in the week, just as the sun was creeping up in the sky behind us, and reached Sigri in good time. Sigri is a small fishing village on the west coast and faces out over the Aegean Sea. We didn't have time to see much of it though, we turned onto a small road and drove on through farmland and past some very nice residences. The road became a track, narrowed and squeezed through tall bamboo-like vegetation. The ford appeared as if by magic and Jason trundled to a stop on the stony bed of the river. We had arrived, almost unexpectedly in the end.
We were the first to arrive, which would prove to be a big bonus an hour or two later. The light of the day was burgeoning but the river was enclosed by trees and tall vegetation on both sides so it was still decidedly dingy. The sky was clear so it would soon be a bright day once again, and should be great for both birding and photography. The first birds that were seen, couldn't be missed really. A pair of Black Storks were feeding on the stoney riverbed upstream from where we stood. Careful scrutiny revealed they had company in the fuzzy shape of a couple of Ruddy Shelducks. I took a record shot even though it wouldn't be much good, but how often would I see the two species together? Probably more than once as it happens, on Lesvos!
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| Black Stork & Ruddy Shelduck |
There were other birds in the watercourse, and as the light lifted slightly, we had more fine close views of Wood Sandpipers. At one time there were over twenty of the elegant waders feeding in the shallow river. I was still trying to fathom how birds here appeared to be so tame compared to those at home. I was pretty much gobsmacked at every turn. A single Ruff was with them. We could see birds flitting around the river banks now and the air was filled with bird songs and calls, dominated by the loud blasts of Nightingales and Cetti's Warblers.
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| Wood Sandpiper (& Ruff, top) |
The main focus was downstream. That seemed to be where most birds were dropping in to drink. There were large trees each side of the river about fifty metres away and they were being used as staging posts. As the morning dawned fully, we quickly added Wood Warbler, Great Reed Warbler, Tree Pipit, and both Pied & Spotted Flycatchers. I was hoping for a Collared Flycatcher which I was assured would be around the area somewhere.
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| Wood Warbler |
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| Spotted Flycatcher |
Then a moment of real magic. The flutey song of Golden Orioles filled the air! This was the one bird, above all others, including all the potential lifers that would be on offer throughout the week, that I really wanted to see. I hadn't seen one for fifteen years since the species demise at Lakenheath where they used to be a reliable staple, although were always hard to see in the huge black poplar plantations. My excitement level was almost at fever pitch. I could hear the Orioles singing but it was a while before a flash of yellow shot across the river and disappeared into the tree to the left. That first bird was followed by several more. We could see them moving around the tree but they remained hard to see, the bright yellow and black plumage of the males blended in amazingly well with the foliage. It took me a while, but eventually I managed to get some record shots of one of the males. Not great shots but my first proper photos of a Golden Oriole. I was beaming from ear to ear!
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| Golden Oriole |
Next up, we heard the soft purring of a Turtle Dove, which dutifully landed in a bare tree half the distance away. It didn't stay long, having a quick preen before flying off. It seemed as if the birds were bathing further down the river, and then flying to the nearer trees to dry off and rearrange their feathers. The same tree then hosted a Pied Flycatcher for a few moments. A pair of Collared Doves joined in by perching on an overhead wire before taking a dip. All good, but not quite adding up to the Collared Flycatcher I was waiting for.
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| Turtle Dove |
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| Pied Flycatcher |
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| Collared Dove |
There was more Golden Oriole action when a male appeared in a slightly more open part of the tree, just a bit too far for really good photos but a pleasure and a thrill to see. I admit that I was absolutely enthralled by them. I had a new entry into my own personal "Top Ten" and wondered why I'd forgotten about them; probably because of not seeing any for so long. The males were joined by at least two females which were "cat-calling". Not quite an endearing piece of song but they make a sound akin to a screeching cat. Being more green than yellow, the females were even harder to spot amongst the leaves.
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| Golden Oriole (male, top & middle, female, bottom) |
The bare tree next to the river was a popular spot for birds to perch and survey the area before visiting the water. A fine adult Woodchat Shrike was the next to show there and was quickly followed by a bold Cetti's Warbler. More Flycatchers appeared but still not the Collared. By nine o'clock, two hours after we'd arrived the activity petered out, the birds had had their drinks and baths and were moving on. For most of the birds that we saw, the island is a staging post, somewhere to stop and refresh for a few days before continuing on their migrations northwards.
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| Woodchat Shrike |
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| Cetti's Warbler |
Before we left the ford, we added a Spotted Crake to the trip list, although it was too far down the river to gain a photo. I was hopeful that we'd see another somewhere during the week. The Ruff that we'd seen earlier with the now departed Wood Sandpipers, reappeared lower down the river as well. Finally a Lesser Whitethroat was the last bird seen, but which was new for the year.
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| Lesser Whitethroat |
Andy & Hannah had been birding nearby and had joined us for the last fifteen minutes or so. Listening to them recount the birds they had seen another part of the area, had me eager to get to where they'd been. I was expecting a good number of lifers from this day and despite having a thrilling couple of hours of birding, I had yet to add anything new to my life list. That would change pretty quickly.
We moved barely half a mile away from the ford before parking up along the minor road. Here was farmland, small plots and fields used for growing crops. There was also a rock covered slope to one side of the road. The bird song here was incredible, some I recognised, and others that were new. The first birds we saw however, were all familiar. A distant Red-backed Shrike stood on a water sprinkler which provides another important source of water in this predominately dry land. We had better views of a Woodchat Shrike in a hedgerow.
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| Woodchat Shrike |
Peter spotted a Masked Shrike but it had flown before I could get to it. That was the second one that had given me the slip so far. Once again though, I was assured that I'd see one soon because they were a common species on Lesvos. That prophecy came true less than ten seconds when I found one, and then another, perched and singing on an overhead wire. The first lifer of the day and the seventh of the trip so far. Masked Shrike was high on my list to see. They are less stocky than most other Shrikes and have a long tail, so that they superficially resemble a small Magpie. The plumage is far from being black & white however, with white shoulder patches which can look a very pale blue in bright sunshine. The breast is a warm buff colour. Because they are thinner and longer than Red-backed and Woodchat Shrikes, they give an impression of being much bigger even though they're not. Not by much anyway. The rangy appearance makes them look a bit untidy. The male's song was a nervy chattering, warbler like babbling. All considered, I thought the Masked Shrike was a lovely little bird and I looked forward to seeing more of them.
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| Masked Shrike |
We carried on uphill, following a small track through the dry grasses and rocky hillside. Our second lifer in just two minutes was found when we first heard the excited song, and then saw, a very smart Sardinian Warbler singing from an aniseed plant. Sardinian Warblers are a member of the Sylvia section of the Warbler family, which also includes Dartford Warbler, one of my favourites and a bird that helped cement my refound love for birding back in the late-nineties. This smart male Sardinian showed beautifully as it hunted for insects, stopping to sing regularly from the highest perches it could find on the treeless hillside. Before I came to Lesvos, probably my biggest "want" was the scarce Rüppell's Warbler. Jason assured me that we'd visit a site for that bird later in the week. In contrast, Sardinian Warbler was hardly on my radar at all because I hadn't realised you got them on Lesvos. When this Sardinian Warbler caught a green grasshopper-type insect, it did give a good impression of a Rüppell's Warbler!
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| Sardinian Warbler |
My photo opportunities with the Sardinian Warbler were virtually unlimited, and the others actually had to drag me away from it. The little black, grey and white bird was fun to watch as it energetically worked its way through the aniseed plants. The most distinctive feature, a pair of bright red eye-rings stood prominently on the black head. Stood in the warm sunshine, relaxed after the hectic travel day and settled in, I felt so good to finally be watching some different birds in a different part of the world.
We found another Masked Shrike, it may have been one of the same as before, although it was now clear that they were indeed a common species in this area, and that there were many pairs breeding there. Half an hour before, Masked Shrike was a "wow" bird for me, but now, I hate to admit, they were there to be admired but there were other birds to find and see that had overtaken it on that "wow" scale.
The next lifer didn't take long to encounter, and was self-found too as we walked back towards the cars! I noticed a largish Warbler stalking through a thorny hedge next to the road. I waited by a bare tree next to where I'd seen the bird and was rewarded by the bird popping up and singing. Now I could clearly see it was an (Eastern) Orphean Warbler, a bird I had studied in the guidebooks before coming to Lesvos, so my diligence was rewarded. The shouty Orphean Warbler was our third lifer in a little over half an hour. Lesvos was continuing to deliver the goodies. I called the others back, and we all enjoyed a minute or so of Orphean Warbler song before it disappeared back into the hedge. The Orphean was a Warbler with a big attitude, singing its own babbling song, although quite flutey in parts, with its huge bill wide open. I'd have stayed for more but time was pressing on, and there were other places to visit.
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| Eastern Orphean Warbler |
We drove on for another half mile or so before parking up again. Our next stop would be another ford over the same river but the rest of our troop thought it would be best to walk down to it because there was likely to be some different birds to see that we may miss if we drove. The first bird encountered though was another Masked Shrike. We had now seen at least half a dozen in the last sixty minutes. I was far from becoming bored with them though and happily took more photos of the bird perched up on yet another wire.
The next highlight wasn't a bird but a butterfly. A Swallowtail was tapping into the nectar of a recently opened thistle flower. Despite Swallowtails being readily available in the UK, if you know where to look, we'd never seen one before. A good number of years ago, we had taken a canoe safari around Hickling Broad in Norfolk specifically to see Swallowtails but the drizzle of the day put paid to that. I'm not a massive fan of seeking out butterfly species, whether rare or not, but still enjoy seeing new ones. And Swallowtails are amongst the most beautiful butterflies.
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| Swallowtail |
The sound of a hundred bleating cries had us taking refuge at the side of the road, especially when a deep growl accompanied them. I don't know what type of dog had the voice but it was big and menacing enough for me to want to give it a very wide berth (or rather it to give me). The dog leapt over a four foot high rusty fence with ease to round up a few strays. The whole herd of sheep was then ushered past us. It took what seemed like ages for them all to pass, shepherded by two of the big dogs, a chap on a knackered old motorbike and a young lad with a stick. Once they'd passed we continued on, only to encounter a lamb that had been left behind on its lonesome. None of us really knew what to do next but we collectively decided that the young animal needed to be helped in some way. Luckily, thankfully preventing any of us having to do any sheep-wrangling, an old farmer-type drove along in a pickup truck that was probably oder than he was, at the very least it had definitely been his car for life, and gestured to leave it where it was. The problem was as we walked away, the animal followed us, and kept tracking us until we heard the sound of a motorbike approaching, which the lamb decided would be a better option to concentrate on, so turned heel and legged it the other way.
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| Lonesome Lamb |
The ford had apparently been replaced with a bridge in the past couple of years. The bridge crossed a surprisingly narrow and almost dried up river. Surprising because the upper ford where we'd been earlier, had a relatively wide river, albeit with just a trickle a few inches deep passing over it. Where the river had gone to between there and here was a bit of a mystery. But as always on Lesvos, there were birds where there was water. Nightingales sang from almost every bush, hidden within them of course, Great Reed Warblers also sang noisily from riverside vegetation, and were equally as well hidden, and Cetti's warblers joined in with the throng. We never saw them either. We also saw Lesser Whitethroats and Blackcaps in an and round the bushes by the bridge.
Far easier to see was the flock of Red-rumped Swallows that were buzzing around above the bridge. Having only seen two of the continental Swallows at home, and a couple on the day before, to now see over twenty of them was a delight although not exactly unexpected. These birds were far easier to photograph too. I had ten minutes of great fun trying to track them and capture them on memory card. Practise made better and I managed some pretty pleasing images. The birds often perched on wires and were joined by our "normal" Swallows, a few House Martins, and a few more Sand Martins.
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| Red-rumped Swallow |
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| Sand Martin |
However, to my eyes anyway, there was even better. High above the low flying Swallows and Martins was a small squadron of Common Swifts, and as you all know by now, I'm a sucker for a Swift. But even higher up than the Common Swifts were around ten Alpine Swifts. Having only ever seen one of those before, a bird at Oldbury Power Station on the banks of the River Severn in mostly pouring rain, those birds really grabbed my attention. Periodically the Alpine Swifts dropped a bit lower and allowed for some nice views and photography. I think Alpine Swifts look a bit like miniature flying Orcas.
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| Alpine Swift |
Other birds were moving high up too. A couple of Marsh Harriers ghosted through, and a few "Island" Buzzards soared in the thermals. There was even a couple of Ravens high up. But I was concentrating mainly on the fast flying Swallows and Swifts.
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| Marsh Harrier |
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| "Island" Buzzard |
Lunch was beckoning so we made our way back along the road to the cars. On the way we saw a couple of Eastern Black-eared Wheatears, apparently ubiquitous on Lesvos, but the first we'd seen since arriving. We had noticed a few distant Red-backed Shrikes on the walk to the ford but now they were popping up seemingly everywhere. I picked one out to photograph but the almost midday sunshine had produced the horrid heat haze ogre. I now fully understood why the dedicated toggers get out early on Lesvos.
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| Red-backed Shrike |
Perched on the same run of overhead wires that we'd seen the Masked Shrike on earlier was a singing Black-headed Bunting. In all probability the first to hit Lesvos that spring since none had been reported up to that point. According to our learned friends, we would likely see a lot of Black-headed Buntings over the next few days, but the bird on the wire was only our second ever after a bird that we were very fortunate to see from a kind lady's kitchen window on Skye back in 2016.
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| Black-headed Bunting |
There was another stop made on the way back to Sigri where we'd take lunch at the incongruously named "Australia" taverna. Opposite a superb and huge house, apparently a Spa for people who have a lot more money than I do, was a copse of low growing and very dense trees. The trees and surrounding grassland are a magnet for Flycatchers and Jason felt that I'd be sure to see my first Collared Flycatcher there. For twenty minutes or so, we saw plenty of Flycatchers but they were all of the Pied variety. We even heard, and saw a cat-calling female Golden Oriole. Other birds seen were a Cuckoo, and more Nightingales were heard. As I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever actually see a Collared Flycatcher, Jason beckoned me over to a spot a little further up the road. After a less than patient five minute wait, a male Collared Flycatcher shot out of a tree and back again. Too quick and too far away for me to grab a photo but the species finally hit my life list. Four new birds to add to the life list in a single morning can't be bad!
Lunch was enjoyable, even though the choice of food basically came down to Moussaka and Greek Salad but there's nothing wrong with that. When in Rome (Lesvos) after all. Flat white coffee hasn't been invented in Lesvos yet but the local syrupy textured coffee worked well. I had no idea what was to come later in the day but obviously listened to the others. We had put ourselves at the mercy of Jason, Peter, Paul & Vicky for at least the first few days while we got a grip on the place. Having Andy & Hannah with us helped as well, all had been on the island before. I certainly had no complaints, in only around forty-eight hours on Lesvos, the gang had introduced Mrs Caley and I to no fewer than ten new birds for our lists and lots of other good birds as well. To that end I was eager to get back out there and find some more.
We followed the other two cars along some narrow roads to Sigri beach, a narrow stretch of sand and rocks that curved around between the village and a distant headland. The lack of wide, vast sandy beaches will hopefully prevent Lesvos from becoming too touristy and overdeveloped. The road became narrower and rougher, eventually petering out into nothing more than a dusty dirt track, the type of which you wouldn't dream of driving on back at home, although some of our minor roads are becoming just as bad. Here though, this rough hewn track that apparently led up through the Meladia Valley before finding the small town of Erresos about twenty miles away, counted as a perfectly serviceable road linking two settlements together. Obviously the amount of use of such a track is usually restricted to just a few farmers and shepherds, but this was the start of the birding season, and many visiting birders would be driving carefully along it. Luckily I was armed with the four by four so shouldn't have any trouble negotiating the bumps and lumps. It was actually fun; to begin with.
The first stop was at an isolated single story building. The dwelling, now derelict but still in reasonable condition had a fenced off orchard behind it. A stony track, difficult to walk on, led around the back of the house, which may be what is often referred to as the Cheese Factory, or Sanitorium, but I never got confirmation from anyone if that was correct. When we caught up with the others, remember we were following behind so they had a head start, Peter told me that there were at least three Collared Flycatchers flitting around the apple trees. All I could find though were more Pied Flycatchers, and I began to feel that the Collared's didn't like me much.
A shout from further up the track of "Cretzschmar's" woke me up, and I was moving along the path as quickly as I could get Mrs Caley safely along it. Every footstep on the craggy rocks was a potential ankle breaker. Unfortunately we hadn't packed walking boots for this trip and shoes weren't as good on such ground. We still made it in time to see yet another lifer, and another sought after one, with the Cretzschmar's Bunting still singing fervently from the top of a small bush.
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| Cretzschmar's Bunting |
When the Bunting did a bunk, and we'd checked a couple of other rock perching birds out, which were both Stonechats, we returned to the orchard where Peter was still watching at least one Collared Flycatcher. It took a couple of minutes but eventually I got a good enough view of the bird, albeit distantly. At least I got a few record shots this time.
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| Collared Flycatcher |
I hadn't yet, up to this point, taken a photo of an Eastern Black-eared Wheatear. Most of the Wheatears seen on Lesvos are this species. I hadn't termed this bird a lifer, because the Wheatear I saw on the Fylde in Lancashire a few years was deemed to be this species by many, although just as many others reckoned it may have been a Pied Wheatear. So the bird I saw before lunch may actually have been the first I'd seen, and certainly underlined the name on my life list. We would go on to see a lot of Eastern Black-eared Wheatears, especially wherever there were rocks. I stopped to take a few photos of the head and shoulders of a male as we drove away from the building and its orchard.
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| Eastern Black-eared Wheatear |
Another treat was waiting at the top of a rise, where the track got even rougher. The others had stopped ahead, and as I pulled up behind them, I could see that they were focussed on a couple of Kestrels that were hunting insects above the hillside. Not ordinary Kestrels though but another lifer for us, in the shape of Lesser Kestrels. The blinding sunshine and associated heat shimmer didn't help my photography efforts, but it was a thrill to watch the birds plucking an assortment of flying insects out of the air with ease. Falcons of all types are supreme fliers, and the Lesser Kestrels put on quite a show. Other than the smaller size, the plumage differences compared to the (Common) Kestrel are subtle. The underparts of the female are more finely speckled giving a paler appearance. The underwing, which is mainly the view we got, are plainer but with darker tips and a darker, more noticeable trailing edge. Conversely the male, which was the closer bird so the one that had its photo taken, is more deeply rufous coloured on the breast than its cousin.
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| Lesser Kestrel |
We all drove on slowly along the awful surface of the track, taking care to avoid the worst of the boulders. Although I'd wisely taken out full-damage waiver on the vehicle insurance, I didn't want to return the car all battered and bruised. I stopped to photograph another super showy Crested Lark that was stood preening on a trackside rock. I was warned that I'd get bored of Crested Larks after a few days, but I was still eager to see and photograph them. One of the benefits of having a camera is that, if an opportunity presents, then a common bird can excite as much as a rare one if there's a nice shot to be had. Without the photographic interest then it's more easy to be blasé, and to walk, or drive, straight past.
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| Crested Lark |
Jason is famous amongst the Lesvos birders because he found a Pallas's Warbler once, at the small chapel where we stopped next. The church is set amongst half a dozen straggly fir trees and they act as a magnet for any birds travelling along the valley. First though, it was the rugged slope opposite which grabbed our attention. There, several birds were singing from rocky perches. The heat haze had worsened, it was really warm deep in the valley, so it was pointless trying to photograph anything more than twenty feet away. So our second, third and fourth Cretzschmar's Buntings went unrecorded, as did a couple of Isabelline Wheatears, the first of the trip but we'd seen a few in the UK before, a more familiar Northern Wheatear, and more Crested Larks and Stonechats.
Paul & Vicky had been studying the fir trees, and had found a Wood Warbler, and even better another Orphean Warbler. A Pied Flycatcher flitted in and out of the fronds as well. Then, what I had already termed as a "magic bird" suddenly appeared when t he flash of golden yellow of a male Golden Oriole shot out of a conifer. Alas it was gone before I'd lifted the camera. We saw it again at the other end of the chapel, with another, but again they were too quick for me, and flew away, alighting in an isolated bush further up the valley. I took a photo of the bush, for a keepsake more than anything, but was surprised when editing since one of the Oriole's could clearly be seen perched in the right-hand end of the bush.
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| Golden Oriole |
We stopped by the bush but the Golden Orioles had disappeared, probably returned back to the chapel. A Common Cuckoo sang from somewhere higher up the hillside, and we could see raptors through the haze. Those with greater skills than mine identified, Marsh Harriers, Common Buzzards, Ravens, and a Short-toed Eagle through their scopes. We hadn't brought a scope with us so made do with nodding our heads while looking at the blurry shapes through binoculars. We could however, clearly see the flock of birds swirling around in the sky above us. There were Red-rumped Swallows, House Martins, and best of all Swifts. Paul is an expert when it comes to Swifts, he installs nest boxes and bricks for them as a fabulous sideline to his main job. The flock didn't just contain Common Swifts, there were Alpine and Pallid Swifts amongst them. All were vocal and the different "screams" of the three species could be heard. Picking out a Pallid Swift for a photo was tricky though since the birds were moving really fast and it was difficult to distinguish which bird was making which call. I'm pretty sure though that the thicker, bulging wing, and the dark eye mask of the bird below is a Pallid Swift.
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| Pallid Swift |
Another mile or so further up the valley, a stream (river in these parts) crossed the track, or maybe by way of a ford the track crossed the stream. Here we stopped for a while. The ford and stream, like the one at Faneromeni proves to be a magnet for birds who need to drink or bathe. In this open country there is little vegetation surrounding this stream but there were birds, most notably a nice female Citrine Wagtail which hunted for insects among the rocky stream bed, and gave me my best views of the species so far.
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| Citrine Wagtail |
A pair of Ruddy Shelducks flew past heading up the valley. These multicoloured ducks nest in these wild parts and are totally legitimate, unlike any encountered back at home which always have dodgy credentials. The species appeared to be reasonably common on Lesvos too, and we'd seen lots already.
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| Ruddy Shelduck |
We walked along a track which led towards some rudimentary farm buildings. A short avenue of low slung trees promised birds although we only found a couple Spotted Flycatchers. They were typically furtive too but one eventually perched still enough for long enough.
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| Spotted Flycatcher |
The excitable chatter of a hundred or more birds came from a fence line. The culprits for the racket proved to our seventh lifer of the day; a congregation ofSpanish Sparrows. I'd hope to get closer views of the smart little Sparrows but for now the sight of a flock of them would suffice. Apparently Spanish Sparrows form larger flocks than the similar and familiar House Sparrows and are even more gregarious. The males are smart with black streaked bellies but the females are largely indistinguishable from their cousins.
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| Spanish Sparrows |
On the move again, we only drove a few hundred metres before pulling up. This time the gang stopped to view a Rock Nuthatch nesting site, another bird which would be new for us. Except that the nest, which is cleverly engineered between two adjoining rocks, wasn't home to that species but to a pair of Rock Sparrows instead, which were also new for us and thus became our eighth new addition to our life lists that day and our fourteenth in the two and half days that we'd been on Lesvos. The female Rock Sparrow stood next to its adopted home as if it was showing it off. The male was also nearby and showed the characteristic yellow throat spot of the species. Although we were fairly close to the nest, it was just across another small stream, the birds were well camouflaged in the environment and could be hard to see. The camera "didn't like" them much and focussing was tricky. Or maybe I was getting tired. Excuses, excuses.
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| Rock Sparrow |
The day in the valley pretty much ended as it had started, with another Cretzschmar's Bunting, a male singing from the opposite side of the road from the Rock Sparrows. I'd have liked more time in the Meladia Valley, it deserves a full day's excursion of its own since there is much to cover and it's a place to sit and watch what happens. However, this was a week's whirlwind tour of the islands best spots and our friends were doing us proud on that score.
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| Cretzschmar's Bunting |
The rest of the track back to Erresos was tough going, mainly uphill until the glide down into the town. We saw many Wheatears and Larks but didn't stop for any. A large flock of Yellow Wagtails were seen at the top of the rise, at least fifty pecking around the short grass of a sheep field, and they really warranted checking out but the others didn't stop so I followed, I didn't want to get lost on the way back. I wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Birds seen 22-04-2025; Black Stork, Ruddy Shelduck, Wood Sandpiper, 58) Pied Flycatcher, 59) Spotted Flycatcher, 60) Wood Warbler, 61) Great Reed Warbler, Ruff, 62) Turtle Dove, 63) Golden Oriole, Woodchat Shrike, 64) Spotted Crake, 65) Blackcap, 66) Lesser Whitethroat, 67) Raven, Yellow-legged Gull, Nightingale, 68) Masked Shrike, 69) Sardinian Warbler, 70) Eastern Orphean Warbler, 71) Red-backed Shrike, 72) Eastern Black-eared Wheatear, (Common) Buzzard, 73) Alpine Swift, Red-rumped Swallow, Common Swift, Swallow, House Martin, 74) Common Whitethroat, 75) Blackbird, Collared Dove, 76) Common Cuckoo, 77) Marsh Harrier, 78) Blue Tit, 79) Great Tit, 80) House Sparrow, 81) Collared Flycatcher, 82) Cretzschmar's Bunting, 83) (Northern) Wheatear, 84) Isabelline Wheatear, 85) Stonechat, Corn Bunting, Crested Lark, 86) Lesser Kestrel, Short-toed Eagle, Hooded Crow, 87) Rock Sparrow, 88) Spanish Sparrow, Citrine Wagtail, Yellow Wagtail, 89) Pallid Swift
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