Asa Wright Nature Centre, Trinidad

It has been a dream of mine for many years now to visit Asa Wright and sit on their veranda and watch Hummingbirds. In late October after years of waiting (dithering) it finally came true. Asa Wright had closed down as a goimg concern and subsequently reopened under new ownership in the time it took me; I remember reading with anguish that had it closed before I could get there, but thankfully it is back. It is perhaps a bit corporate and glossy now, something we discussed at length with our taxi driver who had known it before and felt it had lost its charm, but ultimately it is open, it is providing employment and enjoyment, and the birds are still there.

Mrs L and I took an early flight from Grenada to Trinidad on a Friday morning. When booking this half-term trip to Grenada it hadn't crossed my mind that this would be a possibility, but when I had been trying to sort out flights that got us back to London on the day we needed it had become apparent there were no flights from Grenada to London, and that we would have to go via somewhere else. One of those somewhere elses was Port of Spain to connect with the evening flight back to Gatwick. In theory that could give us the best part of the day on Trinidad if we so wished it. How far was Asa Wright from Piarco exactly? 40 minutes......

It is now even more ruiniously expensive to stay there than previously, but the concept of a day ticket still exists. And being corporate and glossy has its advantages as I was able to book via email, pay via a link, and they even organised a car to pick us up from the airport and deliver us back. There is a lot to be said for hassle free even if it goes against my natural instincts. 

The flight was running late, but the guy with our name on a board knew that and was there waiting for us. We enjoyed a very pleasant drive up the Arima Vallet to Asa Wright, eBirding the whole way of course, and having a bit of running commentary from the driver on how much he enjoyed coming up this way rather than just sitting in traffic in Port of Spain. We gradually left agriculture and all the rest of it behind, and started a long winding ascent into the northern range. Ruddy Ground Dove, Tropical Kingbird, Grey Kingbird and Tropical Mockingbird found their way onto my nascent Trinidad list along with the ubiquitous Cattle Egrets and Black Vultures.

Once at the main house - a mere 90 minutes late, frustrating when time is so limited - we were greeted with a cooling flannel and a rum punch, and led out onto the world-famous veranda which at that moment we had pretty much to ourselves. The only other person there was Mukesh, the head guide, on hand to tell us what we were seeing. It did not disappoint. I had spent a fair amount of time on the beach reading up about the likely species and had a check-list of targets printed out, and so with a rum in one hand, bins in the other, a camera, field guide, Mukesh and said list to one side, Mrs L and I sat on tall stools and marvelled at the scene playing out below us. Mrs L can cope with birdwatching like this. Small doses, no mad intensity, rush or burning panic, no crowds, no half-glimpses of little brown things, no rubbish dumps or swamps. Comfortable verandas, rum punch, afternoon tea, hummingbirds - all of these things work for her and ensure continued matriomonial harmony even when birds are involved. There were over a dozen hummingbird feeders set in a line (and usefully numbered) along with trays of fruit, and all around flowering plants, perches, and off to one side, a fruiting tree. There were birds everywhere, a blur of colour and movement, it was virtually impossible to stay on a single bird, and for a guy with a list of targets somewhat of a sensory overload. 

Long-billed Starthroat

White-chested Emerald

Gradually I started sorting things out. Bananaquits ruled supreme, followed closely by glorious Purple and Green Honeycreepers - they were simply everywhere and the vibrancy of the male Green Honeycreeper is extraordinary. White-chested Emeralds and Copper-rumped Hummingbirds were very common, and so were Brown Violetears. Long-billed Starthroat and White-necked Jacobin were the next most numerous, but there were only singles of Green Hermit and Blue-chinned Sapphire. I got lucky with a Little Hermit that visited just once about five minutes after we sat down. Mukesh was great, really helpful, you could tell he really liked birds and was in the perfect role. He got us onto a Grey-lined Hawk that flew over, helped us with which number feeder to focus on, and confirmed my various sightings as I gradually got a bit more confident with all of these new birds. The fruiting tree off to the right of the balcony was filled with Tanagers - Bay-headed, Silver-beaked and White-lined, and later on a Turquoise Tanager.

Brown Violetear

Copper-rumped Hummingbird

White-necked Jacobin

Long-billed Starthroat

What I would say is that it was pretty average for photography, or at least ad-hoc photography of the sort I now most often partake in. In my head the Asa Wright feeders were at eye level, I mean why would they not be? The reality is quite different and the feeders are well below the veranda. I think if you were staying and were really focussed on getting images you would likely find a spot down below and adjacent to the feeders where birds waited their turn (although hummingbirds are not very patient!) and do well. But for looking at the birds and getting great views it is wonderful.

Green Honeycreeper

Purple Honeycreeper

White-chested Emerald

We had a buffet lunch in the dining room, all part of the day rate, and then went on a short walk with Mukesh down the main trail. Even though only an hour this was excellent, the more so as it felt like a private tour with just Mrs L and I.  The main draw was of course the White-bearded Manakin lek, with well over a dozen males of these cute little birds jumping around, wing-clicking and squeaky trumpet calls. I think we saw one unimpressed female but that didn't stop this squadron of little guys giving it their all from various dancing arenas that they had cleared. Further on down the trail we finally saw the Bearded Bellbird that we had been hearing since we arrived, incredibly loud once close up - what a peculiar looking bird, one of those weird species that taxonomists basically gave up trying to classify and chucked into that catch-all bucket called Cotingidae. We also saw Rufous-browed Peppershrike, White-flanked Antwren, Cocoa Woodcreeper, Cocoa Thrush, White-necked Thrush and Green-backed Trogon; it was like being back in South America. One of my abiding memories from a holiday to Tobago over ten years ago when I hadn't really done any neotropical birding was leafing through the field guide seeing pages and pages of fantastic birds only to read the text and see "Trinidad only" - it really is an extension of the mainland when it comes to birds, and you don't have to go very far up in the Lesser Antilles at all before you lose the vast majority of these species.

White-bearded Manakin

Bearded Bellbird

Back on the veranda the corporate nature of Asa Wright was laid bare. A local business team-building day. Of all the places to come, and of all the days. Whilst I applaud the focus on nature that some bright spark in HR had come up with, and indeed a few of the group were actively looking at birds and had taken over my field guide, quite a number of the group simply had no interest, and sat on the veranda on their phones watching snapchat and tik-tok and so on. Just totally inappropriate in the setting but what can you do? The birds didn't mind, the feeders are set down a bit as previously mentioned, but I found it very distracting. In the time we had left I went for a walk by myself around the property buildings, finding nothing new particularly but at least I was away from the crowds. All the Green Hermits were hanging around the ginger plantation so I tried a few photos - here is where I miss my Canon gear... Other birds included Squirrel Cuckoo, Yellow Oriole, Golden-headed Manakin, Barred Antshrike, Orange-winged Amazon pairs on the afternoon commute, Violaceous Euphonia, Crested Oropendola and various Tanagers.

Barred Antshrike

Green Hermit

Green Hermit

We had afternoon tea on the veranda, another big plus in Mrs L's book, and pretty soon after that it was time to go. Another taxi arrived right on time and we were off down the valley back to the airport. 52 species in total, not a huge amount but of these a quarter were new, including amazing views of five Hummingbirds. It was a very quick visit, quite an expensive visit considering the taxi both ways, but it was supremely enjoyable and I am so glad we did it. I slept all the way to London, dreaming of hummingbirds and the colour green.

Grenada - October 2025

Grenada was all about doing nothing. Nada. I am not especially good at this, but I promised Mrs L I would make an effort and try not to get antsy. It was half term, we were both exhausted, surely I would just be able to flop about and do very little? Indeed Grenada was chosen specifically for that purpose, it is not an especially birdy island, there would be no particular call for me to charge off around the place. I figured one morning would be enough to mop up the endemics and that I could sit around and drink rum punch for the rest of the time. This worked out very well.

The Pitons on St Lucia, great views as we came in to land.

Our plane stopped off in St Lucia on the way for just over an hour, with most people getting off. I had last been here in 2013 for another relaxing holiday - in fact we had stayed right between those two peaks in the photo above. Nonetheless I was able to add three St Lucia ticks from the steps of the aircraft duing the change-over - Collared Dove, Eared Dove, and a distant Great Blue Heron flying across the skyline. 

Soon we were on our way again, arriving into Grenada late afternoon. Just enough time to make our way to Mount Cinnamon Beach Resort on the southern end of Grand Anse Beach for a pre-dinner drink. Rum punch of course. Ah, the Caribbean, it had been too long. It was warm, there were palm trees, the monotonous calming influence of the clap of the waves began to set in and Mrs L and I did a lot of happy sighing. 

Looking back up the beach

This will not be a day by day account as nothing happened, and anyway who wants to hear about someone else's holiday? But just os you can get the picture our routine went something like this. Awake before dawn we would sit on our balcony with a coffee and watch the day break. The hotel was on a steep slope and we were quite near the top and so had lovely views down the length of Grand Anse and across the bay to St George's. Being up the hill we were also close to the forest edge, and I saw a good number of birds from here. After the regular early morning squall we would mosy down the hill to the hotel veranda and have a long and leisurely breakfast. From here we would cross the road and walk through the gardens down to the beach, staking our claim to a couple of loungers or armchairs. I dozed. Mrs L read. From time to time we would go for a quick swim, or snorkel the artificial reef just off shore. At around midday the smell of grilling fish would usually get us to move the few feet to the beach restaurant, and the first drink of the day would probably appear - despite being on holiday I was extremely insistent that I did not start drinking in the morning, and in fact the whole holiday was one of admirable restraint on that front despite the abundance of rum and fruit. During the afternoon we might have another, but otherwise this proceeded exactly as the morning, dozing on the beach interspersed with swimming. At around half four we would slouch back up the hill and shower before walking to the next bay along to Quarantine Point and Morne Rouge Beach be able to watch the sun set, have a couple of drinks and do a lot more happy sighing. And then at dusk we would walk down Grand Anse Beach to find something to eat, with Umbrella's Beach Bar being the usual spot, though a big thumbs up to a chicken shack close by. Repeat five times. It was fantastic and I genuinely did relax.

The white posts in the sea mark the artificial reef. I got amazing views of Royal Terns and Brown Booby simply by smimming up to them.

Our balcony notched up a decent list of birds over the week. Antillean Crested Hummingbird and Green-throated Carib were both seen, along with Spectacled Thrush, Black-faced Grassquit, Tropical Mockingbird and Grey Kingbird. I saw Broad-winged Hawk a few times as well, but the best bird was probably a Summer Tanager which shot through and into the forest one morning. There was a Grenada Wren about half way to breakfast, and Lesser Antillean Bullfinch and Carib Grackle scoured our table for crumbs which I was happy to give them.

Mount Cinnamon gardens. Our room is one of the ones at the top on the left

Breakfast view

Spectacled Thrush at the hotel

View down Grand Anse Beach from our balcony

I did a fair amount of birding from my beach lounger. Magnificent Frigatebirds and Royal Terns were always present, and a Brown Booby liked to perch on one of the reef buoys. A small group of Semipalmated Plovers were usually at the far end, and the occasional Osprey, Brown Pelican and Little Blue Heron would do a fly-by. I also picked up Spotted Sandpiper, Great Blue Heron and Yellow-crowned Night Heron, as well as Caribbean Martin and Barn Swallow flying down the beach. Various Doves pottered around underneath the trees, and of course Bananaquits were a constant presence.

Map of the southern tip of Grenada. Everything is very close to many of the regular hotels on Grand Anse. It took about 40 minutes to walk between Mount Hartman and Lower Woburn along the wiggly road marked "Ruth Howard".

Mount Hartman Visitor Centre

The real draw of course is the presence of a small number of endemics on the island, including the critically endangered Grenada Dove. Our hotel was very close Mount Hartman, site of their main stronghold and where most people see them. One morning, I forget which, I took a cab over there after breakfast to wander the trails. The Mount Hartman Dove Sanctuary it is fair to say has seen better days, it was all rather sad. As expected the gate was open but the place was quite overgrown and in a bit of disrepair, and it was hard to say when the Visitor Centre might last have received a visitor. The trails start to the right behind the building, and it is said that the best way to see the Doves is to always turn left whenever it splits as this will take you right up the hill. That said I could already hear a Grenada Dove singing to the left of the Visitor Centre before I had even started into the dry forest, so that was half a tick. A busy Grenada Wren was one of the first birds I saw, and there were lots of Scaly-naped Pigeons around. I heard Grenada Dove in two more places along the trail, but only once did I get a glimpse of one scuttling along the ground and I was too slow with the camera and thus this trip report misses out any visuals of the star attraction. Hard work! I did just about get a photo of the Wren, and also the Grenada Flycatcher, Mount Hartman being the only place I saw it - so all three endemics in the same place. If you can spare a couple of hours away from the beach this is the spot where you will clean up and be back well in time for lunch. The trail, very steep in places, eventually spat me out at the top of the hill from where I had good views of the landscape and some Mangrove Cuckoos. 

Mount Hartman view

Grenada Dove habitat

Grenada Flycatcher

Grenada Wren

Seeing as I had so much time left I walked a couple of mile around the back of the hill to the next bay along where there was allegedly a tower hide near the village of Woburn. There was indeed a small tower, and from it I saw nothing at all. Just next to this was the shortest boardwalk ever built, all of about 20 feet, and from here I did see a few new things - American Moorhen, Lesser Yellowlegs, Turnstone and Green Heron, as well as some more Semipalmated Plovers. A group of Smooth-billed Ani responded to me making some off squeaking noises. I took a cab back to the hotel as it would have taken ages on foot.

Lesser Yellowlegs

The only other birding I did was about ten minutes up the beach from the hotel at a small park. Camerhogne Park itself doesn't have much going on, but there is a fenced off area immediately adjacent to it that had a few overgrown shallow pools, more persistent puddles really, and I was amazed to find Least Sandpiper, AGP, Pec Sand, Solitary Sand and Wilson's Snipe across two short visits.

Least Sandpipers

Wilson's Snipe

I ended up seeing 51 species. This hugely surpassed my expectatons, I thought I might get 30 if I was lucky as my experience in Barbados and St Lucia was that birds were pretty thin on the ground. Maybe I just tried a little harder, but it didn't really feel like it as for most of the time I was under a tree on the beach. But the birding does not end there. I managed to engineer a return to London via Trinidad, which gave us half a day to get up to Asa Wright, somewhere I have wanted to go for upwards of 20 years.

Coming back

Well that was easy. The Germany post I mean. I bashed it out in under an hour, added a few photos, made a map, did a list, done. It may have helped that I find myself seriously in arrears again. Equally it could simply be that the ability to string two sentences together has returned , albeit for an unknown amount of time. I hope it does stick because I have a lot to get through, a reasonably quiet summer was followed by a frenetic autumn that only really concluded last weekend. Fair warning, there will not be much about Wanstead and it looks like I will be posting my lowest annual total here for six years. On the plus side I saw 1000 species globally, many of them much more interesting than the annual Common Tern I spent zero time trying to see on Heronry. 

Germany was actually in the wrong order, for whatever reason I decided I would go with Latvia first, but now that this is out of the way I can get back to chronological. I know, I know. I'm aware that my various trips are not what many people want to read about. Generally the readership (such that it is) would prefer tales of local slogging, of toil and woe, and of schadenfreude and minor injuries. Misery in other words. Well there's a fair amount that in my life too, typically from Monday to Friday, but I can't write about it. And frankly if you thought trip reports were bad..... So without any wish to stick what no doubt feels like an extravagant travel schedule down people's throats, galivanting it is. See, here I am apologising for my lifestyle again. I should not need to do this. My life is essentially joy or bust. A few extreme highs of me living my best life and then long deep troughs. Islands of joy surrounded by oceans and weeks of relentless slogging my guts out that even if I were permitted to talk about it would still not see the light of day. You will have to trust me on this.

So in October I went to the Caribbean. It was of course completely horrible and I cannot in good conscience recommend it to anyone.

A day in Germany

Back in late August I went birding in Germany somewhat on a whim. I just picked somewhere I had never been before that had decent flight timings and went for it. That somewhere turned out to be Hannover, and so late on Friday night after work I pitched up at Heathrow and off I went. I did of course undertake a small amount of research and determined that the most birdy area close to Hamburg was the Steinhuder Meer, a lake about 20 miles west of the city. To get there required getting a train to a smaller provincial town which would then connect with a [very infrequent] bus which would drop me within striking distance of the lake. Wunderbar.

My flight was so late arriving that public transport had all but ceased by the time I arrived. I think I got to my hotel near the Hauptbahnhof (GCSEs came flooding back) at around 1am, which for someone used to going to bed before 9pm was sub-optimal. Especially with a train the next morning at 6am or thereabouts so that I could make the one-a-morning bus. I made if of course, and this being Deutschland everything was running perfectly to schedule, including the elusive bus from Wunstorf to Winzlar. It stopped to take on passengers for all of about thirty seconds before continuing, blink and you would have missed it. But I didn't, and so just after sunrise on a beautiful and misty Saturday morning I was deposited in the small village of Winzlar. If I walked north-east down a residential strasse I should pick up a footpath which would take me to the lake, just over a mile away.

This is where it started to go wrong, albeit that this wasn't clear to me at this stage. There was indeed a footpath, more like a farm track that one could have driven down, indeed it went past a small-holding with some cattle at one point, but it gradually got narrower and narrower before eventually petering out completely. Surely this wasn't right? I looked at my map again but I was  exactly on a path that continued in the same direction. At this point I had walked probably three quarters of the distance so I did not feel like retracing my steps. And anyway the birding was excellent despite the mist, with loads of Geese calling overhead, Snipe and Wood Sandpiper everywhere, a Spotted Redshank calling, Marsh Harriers, Red-backed Shrike, Yellow Wagtails and so on. Nonetheless I should have turned back. But I didn't, I was within touching distance of the shore so ploughed on, returning and trying another path would have meant a two mile round trip. Onwards then, under a couple of fences that mysteriously crossed what on my map was a path, through deep stands of wet grass and sedge, over a ditch, over another fence, more sedge and then finally a proper footpath. Very wet grass.... I was soaked to the skin from the waist down, and in particular my shoes were full of water. I pondered my next move but there was no alternative but to take pretty much everything off, wring it out, and then squelch down the path. As soon as I put shoes back on my socks absorbed another quart of water, and so this process had to be repeated a number of times, but even when my socks were merely extremely damp rather than mostly liquid it was clear that walking was going to be highly unpleasant. Still, things could only get better. 

And get better they did. Gradually I dried out as I walked along, and birding helped take my mind off my bedraggled condition. Willow Tits! Ravens! A couple of pairs of Crane, some Greenshank, more Snipe, a Cuckoo. Simply loads of birds, the full list from this section is here. I walked north initially, the lake still out of sight, finding a hide from where I added White-tailed Eagle, Bullfinch, loads of hirundines, a Whinchat, Stonechats and lots more. Still missing a lake, I turned back and walked past where I had emerged an hour or so previously. In better light and with the mist having cleared it was clear that there was no path whatsoever, despite what the map had suggested. I had passed an actual path, but it had a no-entry sign on it. It seemed that the only way to access where I now was was from the direction I was now walking - broadly south. I kept adding birds, including a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker in a hedge of all places, as well as Marsh Warbler, lots of Herons and Egrets on a marshy bit, a flock of Lapwing, and lots of House Martin, Sand Martin and Swallow. Still no lake, but after about a mile a clear path deviated east towards what had to be the water. Through woodland initially, where I picked out Spotted Flycatcher and Short-toed Treecreeper (does not sound like a Treecreeper at all), then onto a lethally slippery boardwalk and finally to a tower hide. 

Wow, what a view! Flat calm, like a mirror, and much larger than I had anticipated, with birds all the way across. There was even a small island with some buildings on it and some tourists, the Insel Wilhelmstein. And there were hundreds if not thousands of birds - Greylag Geese and Mallard probably the most numerous, but lots of Mute Swan, Gadwall, Great Crested Grebe and various other species. I couldn't really linger on account of there being just two buses back to Wunstorf - I was already going to miss the first one and couldn't afford to miss the final one in a couple of hours. This next section as I walked back down the south-west track towards the village was probably the best. A marsh on my right hand side had over 100 Lapwing, Ringed and Little Ringed Plover, Redshank and a Little Stint. Meanwhile a field on the other side had 30 Great White Egret dotted around in it. Overhead were multiple Buzzards, a trio of Red Kite, and then quite remarkably a Black Woodpecker flew through my binoculars and into the woodland I had just left, calling very stridently as it landed somewhere in the trees.

As I still had a fair amount of time, rather than go back to the village I turned back into the habitat tracking back towards where I was sure I had likely started. Sure enough I found my initial 'path'. It was clearly a well-trodden path - perhaps to the paddocks - but I also found a "no access" sign that I had somehow missed earlier. Ooops. A bit further on I found the bottom of the next path with the same sign, but had I chosen this one at least I would have made it to the top without getting totally soaked. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I carried on birding past this point, picking up Hobby, more Raven, several more Red Kite, a Sparrowhawk and a Yellowhammer. Dampness aside it had been a great morning, I had walked five miles and seen 85 species. 

I trudged back to the village and found my bus stop. I had about half an hour so I removed my shoes and socks and dried them a bit more on a fence. I suspected that they would not be especially fragrant and felt a little sorry for any passengers in my vicinity on my return flight. Here was my bus, right on time back to Winzlar, from where I caught a train back to the city.

It was now mid-afternoon and part two of my day could begin - a city break. Much as I enjoy birding I also really enjoy walking around European cities. I had a well deserved spot of lunch and then had a bit of wander. Unfortunately the cathedral was covered in scaffolding - this happens to me so often, the main attraction undergoing some kind of vital restoration work right at the time of my visit - but I enjoyed the paved streets, elegant old buildings and watching people. A small river flows around the edge of the old town and at one point there were some surfers who could basically stay in exactly the same spot on a weir whilst "surfing" the strong current.

My meandering took me to the magnificent Neues Rathaus (more GCSE flashbacks) and the Maschpark where I added Egyptian Goose, but I was nearly out of time and needed to head back to the airport. I could barely walk at this stage, it had been a long day with many miles covered. In particular my feet were in a questionable state having been encased in wet shoes for most of the day. Still it had been a great a little trip, very enjoyable. I nipped into a supermarket to buy a few German comestibles and that was that. And the best thing about it was that when I woke up at home the next day it was still the weekend. These micro-trips are not for everyone, and there are naturally some ardent detractors (i.e. I travelled in a plane), but I am a big fan of what can be done in 24 hours.