A message from a one-time twitcher

There is pandemonium in UK twitching circles. Dusky Thrush, Pacific Swift, White-throated Needletail, Bridled Tern and now an Ascension Frigatebird. I cannot tell you how pleased I am that I reached my personal milestone at the beginning of the summer, and with a British list now well over 400, I remain extremely relaxed.

The trouble is, and as this summer is demonstrating, there is always the next one. The die-hard twitcher can never give up. How many people told their wives that the Dusky Thrush was the only bird that they would be going for this year? After the Pacific Swift, how many marriages ended? The Needletail? Gah! And then almost immediately a pressing need to go to Northumberland. And now Islay. I am truly thankful for my rational side, as I am not sure I would have lasted the pace. I suppose that makes me a failed twitcher - I can live with that. How I ever came by a reputation for filthiness I have no idea, but there is no way that a normal human being with a normal life could ever balance that little lot. I suppose "normal" is the key word....this is a topic I plan to return to in the coming weeks....

Personally I've just put two bottles of Rosé in the fridge, and my interest in twitching is possibly at an all-time low. It's a funny old game, especially given how single-minded I was at the beginning of the year. I think the key is knowing when to stop. The trouble is that if you stop, is all the prior effort wasted? Maybe, or maybe not. It depends on your point of view. If you view it as a competition, yes - you've done the hard yards but failed to stay the course. If it's just a bit of fun, then no, and different twitchers are motivated by different things, and this weekend I'm motivated by the following:

- the aforementioned bottles of chilled Rosé
- a school friend's house-warming party
- the Rolling Stones in Hyde Park (!)

On this latter point I have somehow jammed a free ticket. This is entirely due to karma, having given my mate a ticket to the Counting Crows earlier this year. It would of course be nice if some of these monster birds were a little closer. Having now twitched Scilly, Shetland and the Western Isles the sensible bit of me realises that this is pretty silly. For one bird? Very silly. Luckily the big ones I've been on are so far away that they tend to turn into nice little trips rather than smash and grabs, but nonetheless.

I have no idea how many people are currently en route to Glasgow and the western isles, there to throw money at charter pilots or whatever. Good luck to them I say, though please don't congratulate anybody on being able to drive a car, read a map, have a pile of ready cash and depart from real life at a moment's notice. I'm currently content to sit and watch how this one develops. The sky outside is blue, the fridge is humming nicely (any minute now I reckon) and there are few places I would rather be than right here. Though that Bee-eater hide in the Hortobágy .....



Rocking it up at the Olympic Park, or Another Rock Star Encounter

I spent yesterday afternoon at the Olympic Park in Stratford. The Zac Brown Band, Alabama Shakes and The Black Crowes were essentially all warm-up acts for one man. The Boss. Bruce Springsteen. Or more precisely, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. His music is the soundtrack to my entire time on this planet, and I've been a fan for nearly twenty years. I'm not sure what happened this year, but I finally realised I could go to concerts, including to see Springsteen. Within the three hour set were more legendary songs than you can shake a stick at, including the whole of the "Born in the USA" album, in order. Complete groupie that I am, I managed to get very close to the front of the massive crowd. Oh, and I smuggled a smallish camera in.....

Red-footed Falcons

There is no putting it off, no exercising self-control. No, I am compelled, forced against my will, to post up a whole pile of photos of these fantastic birds from Hungary. In a hide 30 feet in the air, you're level with about four nest boxes, and you can watch their every move. Forget the photography, I'd do it even without a camera, the views - the whole experience - is simply brilliant - through bins, these birds literally sparkle. No other views of Red-footed Falcon will ever be good enough ever again, and barring an adult male in my garden, or perhaps on Wanstead Flats if we're stretching it, I doubt I will twitch a bird in the UK again as it will only be a let down. I spent a morning and an afternoon on two separate days in here - baking hot but you forget about that. For the morning session we faced west, the afternoon east, as there are windows on both sides and this allowed us to study two different pairs. Unfortunately the female on the west side had a gammy eye, so unless she faced right, which she rarely did, there were not photos of her as it was all a bit icky, and the female on the east spent almost the whole time in the nest box. However the male bird on the east side was simply gorgeous and so got most of the attention. He is the fussiest creature I think I've ever seen (apart from Mick S perhaps!), nothing was ever perfect, his feathers never exactly as he wanted them. He spent approximately 95% of the time preening, and even the simple act of grasshopper delivery for the female to then rip it up and feed it to the four chicks was enough to send him to his perch for a good ten minutes of recuperation and self-grooming. I too became fairly fussy, looking for nice backgrounds, particular poses and so on, getting a bit arty with the composition. I mean why not?

Anyhow, enough words, I know that's not why you visit any more......there are about three billion more of these starting here if these are still insufficient. Little crackers.

Possibly my favourite photo from the whole trip....

Unexpected visitor to Debrecen Great Wood. Or perhaps, given this is me we're talking about, entirely expected.

Toughing it out

Reedbed hide. 6.30am to 6.30pm. Greylag Goose. Mallard. [pause] Coot. We should have called for help, but felt compelled to stay all day. A Squacco Heron visited three times, a Night Heron, once. And they hadn't been informed about where to land for their paying guests - not good. Of a five day photography trip, I've spent two of those days in essentially birdless hides all day long, which is mildly annoying. The other days made up for it, and anyhow, you make the most of what there is, and so here is what there was.

Last day tomorrow, going back to the drinking pool hide for more of those lovely reflections. Or at least I hope so. The trip list is up to 90, with a fair proportion captured on film, but relatively few species absolutely smashed. Always a reason to come back. Just not to the Reedbed hide....

Mmmmmmmm

Boring Bee-eaters

Bee-eaters are horrible. Anybody not wanting to see Bee-eater photos should definitely not click here. Personally I don't like them, and it was a right pain to have been stuck in a small wooden shed about 15 feet from some perches that they frequented. Frankly, I felt like I was taking one for the team.

So, as you may have gathered, I'm in Hungary on a dedicated photography tour. I booked it on a whim many months ago, and as there was only one place left, I didn't know the other people on it. There are six of us in total, four Brits, and two Germans. I'm with the Germans - Nikon shooters with their filthy (lovely) 36mp D800s. Pah! The three Brits know each other already, so they go off an do their thing. The routine is pretty simple. Sakertours, the tour operators, have a network of photography hides in the Hortobagy National Park. They range from hides built into reedbeds, to towers specifically for Red-footed Falcons, to drinking pools with mirror-lie surfaces, to simple mobile sheds plonked in front of nest sites. The whole thing is a marvel; we meet downstairs for breakfast somewhere between five and six in the morning, and after a swift coffee, head off in two 4x4s for whatever the chosen hide for that session is - either just the morning with a switch and a rest at lunchtime, or for the whole day. Each hide is built with the sun in mind, so you have ones that are suitable only for the morning, some for the afternoon, and some that face two directions. The downside is that they're extremely hot and uncomfortable, but in this regard you pays yer money and you takes yer choice. I'd rather spend a few days sweating buckets and doing bizarre things with my legs to get these shots than go without, so I'm happy to just grin and bear it.

Some of the hides are extremely successful as there are constantly birds coming and going. Others are harder work, and there are many hours without much happening at all. In this respect it's like birding, and indeed I've brought my bins with me so that in those moments where the birds are more than 15 feet away, I simply start birding. And there's a stack to see and hear. My German companions are called Jan and Jurgen. Jan is also a birder, and so is completely in tune to all the calls and songs, whereas Jurgen is only a photographer, and so is unaware of the little snippets that keep coming our way. As with Bulgaria last year, the birding here is superb. The Hortobagy is stuffed - grasslands and meadows, reedbeds and fishponds, canals and woodlands - almost every type of habitat is present, and so the variety is fabulous. I've yet to do the complete list, but it's well over 70 with a couple of days to go, and the views have mostly been incredible.

I'll be attempting to write a comprehensive day-by-day blow at some point, but this will be on my dedicated photo blog, as I need to keep this blog free for ranting and so on. Lord only knows that trying to get back into UK birding will provoke some sort of reaction - I've not had a bird flushed by a dog all week.... 

Rollers and Red-feet - Phoarrrr!!

The less said about yesterday the better, but today was magnificent. Much as I hate hides, I have to say that Sakertours' Red-footed Falcon hide is incredible. At one point I put the camera to one side and enjoyed a female Red-foot at about 6ft range. What a contrast to how you usually see them in the UK! I'd even go so far as to say that they're cute....

30+ degrees in airless box though, and you have to piss in a bottle (and there are two bottles between three...), that's the price you pay. Is it worth it? Only you can can say. For my part, it was easily worth the hardship, even if I did have to hang on for over five hours. I am very sorry that this is unashamedly photographic. It's one of the things that makes me tick. When this place is good, it's really really good! Loads to come once I am back home and have a proper computer and proper internet access. For now, here is a small part of what I am experiencing, minus the extreme discomfort.