Best Wishes Penny
Last week, I had a great time in Norfolk. Many thanks to all the friendly and helpful birders I met. I didn't manage to do all I had planned, so I'll just have to go back next year.
My trip to Norfolk started after teatime on Friday 26th September. I simply drove south until I began to feel sleepy, then found a quiet place near Gretna to park and sleep overnight. Next day, in the cold grey light of dawn, I breakfasted in the Service Area, and continued on my way south. However, I had decided to make a diversion to the south side of the Solway Firth, to see if I could find a Stilt Sandpiper, an extremely rare transatlantic vagrant. By sheer good fortune, I found it. My information was that it was on Campfield Marsh reserve, but as I approached the place, I managed to shoot past the entrance. Being a narrow road, I had to carry on until I could find somewhere safe to turn, but about half a mile further on, I found a group of birders paying close attention to the marsh between the road and the sea. And that was it, I had found the bird. It reminded me of a yellowlegs in size and shape. So, I was off to a good start, and returning to the M6, I carried on towards Norfolk. In case you are wondering, it seems it is best to travel down the west side as far as Penrith, then cross the Pennines and continue on the A1. I arrived in Norfolk mid afternoon, which gave me time to visit Flitcham Abbey Farm, a good place to see Little Owls. I had bought a copy of Neil Glenn’s excellent book “Best Birdwatching Sites in Norfolk”, and had spent lots of time reading it and planning where to go. And sure enough, I didn’t have to wait long before one appeared, on the stump of a huge fallen oak tree. This was a year tick for me, as we don’t get them in north-east Scotland. The same goes for the Egyptian Geese that were there. Then it was off to my holiday cottage near Holt.
Next day, I made a start at Kelling Quags. The walk down the hedge lined track yielded several singing Chiffchaffs, and lots of brambles. On the pool itself there were Teal, Dunlin, a Snipe and a Little Egret, the first of many I was to see throughout the week. Then the rain came on. As I walked back to the car, I was joined by another birder, who told me about the Lesser Grey Shrike that was at Weybourne. I made a mental note of it. I drove around for a bit, had lunch overlooking the lake at Holkham, and hoped the rain would go off. It did, and I went to Warham Greens, had a walk along the edge of the marsh and saw a few Little Egrets, Yellowhammers, Stonechats and Whinchats. There were still a couple of hours of daylight left so I reckoned I might as well give the shrike at Weybourne a go. From the car park there, I could have gone left or right, and chose to go right. Which was the right thing to do, because that was the way to the Lesser Grey Shrike. The fact that it was a mile and a half away was unknown to me, but as I walked along the grassy cliff top path, I kept meeting birders coming the other way, who assured me it was still there and showing well, in a hedge with two elder bushes. There were several hedges, all with the odd elder bush, but at last I spotted the bird. Everyone else had gone by then, so I could almost claim it as self found. I stayed for about half an hour, getting great views of the bird. My second life tick of the week, and fourth year tick. The mile and a half back to car didn’t seem nearly as long.
The following day I went to Titchwell, the flagship RSPB site. It was a day of bright sunshine and a stiff breeze, not ideal conditions, but I made the best of it and was pleased to hear, and see briefly, a Bearded Tit. There wasn’t a lot else to keep me there, and as expected it was heaving with people. In one of the hides, I overheard a birder saying he had just been to see the Great Grey Shrike at Choseley Barns, a mere mile from Titchwell. So I had a bite of lunch in the car park, and made my way there. And there it was, flying between bushes and the overhead wires. Two year ticks for the day. But I wasn’t finished yet, and went for a walk at Brancaster Marsh, adjacent to Titchwell, but much quieter. Just as I was starting along the path, I heard a Cetti’s Warbler, a bird I have long wanted to find. Even though I didn’t see it (they are very skulking) I’m still counting it in my life list.
An early morning at Cley, before the hordes arrived, seemed like a good idea, and I was there well before the visitor centre opened. An hour and a quarter gave me 27 species, including fantastic views of a Marsh Harrier, several Avocets, more Bearded Tits, a passing Peregrine, and a Mute Swan actually calling, despite the name. No new birds though, so I went for a change of habitat, to Sculthorpe Moor. Here is a lovely managed wet woodland, with extensive boardwalks and a couple of hides. At one of the hides I saw my first Marsh Tit. I know it wasn’t the very similar Willow Tit because it said pitchou to me as it flew off with a seed from one of the many feeders.
For the next day I had booked a seat on the train to London. Just to remind myself how lucky I am to live in a lovely quiet part of the country. It was also my best hope of seeing Ruddy Duck and Ring-necked Parakeet, at the London Wetland Centre. After a six hour journey, I arrived there, had lunch, saw the Ruddy Ducks, and had a millisecond view of a Parakeet from the bus as I was leaving. I had a walk round St. James Park, fed the pigeons and the squirrels, and went to get the train back to Sheringham. The train was delayed, my connection at Norwich had to be held for a quarter of an hour, and I arrived back at my cottage well after midnight. I won’t be repeating that expedition. But it was fascinating to experience the contrast between life in rural Scotland and bustling London.
After a slightly longer sleep, I went next day to the Horsey area, hoping to see some of the Cranes that are resident there. It was raining, all forenoon, and I sat in the car scanning the fields. Kingfisher and several Marsh Harriers went past, but no Cranes. Then the rain cleared, and I had a walk in the bushes at Horsey Gap, where I added Green Woodpecker to my list of year ticks. Another long walk in the area yielded nothing new (but I need the exercise), and so I planned to end the day at Stubbs Mill, reputedly the place to watch Cranes. A half mile walk from the car park at Hickling Broad took me to the viewing point, a raised bank looking across the marsh. The morning’s rain had left a legacy of towering cumulus clouds in the east, catching the last rays of the setting sun. They glowed pink, lavender and silvery grey, as they rose high above the line of trees on the far side of the fields. Then, out of nowhere, three Cranes flew across the face of the clouds, serene, dignified, unhurried. It was a moment of sheer beauty, and the highlight of the week.
For my last day, I had another visit to Cley. But it was a truly wet and wild morning, with lashing rain, driven horizontally by a north westerly gale. Not at all pleasant. The scrapes were quiet. So I moved over to Sculthorpe, still hoping for Nuthatch and Golden Pheasant, two birds that featured well in the hide log books there. In between showers, I went from hide to hide, but all was quiet, save for the thrashing of the tree branches and the steady drip of raindrops. In the Tower Hide, I was quietly enjoying watching a few birds on the feeders, when the door opened and a crowd of about fifteen walked in, filling the place with noise and bustle. I decided to make room for them, and left. This was a stroke of luck, as otherwise I would have missed seeing the Golden Pheasant as I approached the Woodland Hide. The gamekeeper was there too, and I learned that the origins of the birds (there are two apparently) are open to some doubt. It seems they arrived mysteriously one night a few years ago. It was my final life tick for the week. I had saved the best for last, or so I thought, as I headed at dusk for a walk along the East Bank at Cley. Having just finished reading a book about the history of Cley and its birders, I felt I knew the place. But it was a howling wind that greeted me as I stepped out of the car, and a deserted walk along the raised bank. Nevertheless, I went, seeing little apart from some common geese and ducks. There is a bench at the far end, and I sat down to take in the sights over Arnold’s Marsh. A few more ducks pottered about, but it looked dead. Another shower came up behind me, and soon the rain was splattering on my back as I huddled down on the bench. I was just on the point of leaving, when a whoosh and a roar of wings announced the arrival of a flock of about a hundred Black-tailed Godwits. They flew low over my head, out over the marsh, wheeled around several times, passing close in front of me, before settling on a mud bank. The East Bank had worked its magic after all. Walking back to the car, the rain cleared and the village church was etched against the orange of the setting sun. Two Marsh Harriers appeared over the tops of the reeds, flying storm tossed in the gale, yet still under complete control. Mere black silhouettes in the gathering gloom, they were my final birds of a wonderful week. Next day, I drove the 550 miles home in ten hours.
Thoroughly enjoyed your read.........what a trip with some great birds. Norfolk is special isnt it, in a different way to Scotland obviously.
I must admit I often do weekends away, have also slept in the car, and altho i find it lonely at times, when you are by yourself you can do what exactly you want and take in the atmosphere at your own pleasure and pace!
Always nice to get back home aint it tho!
Beautifully written account of your trip Ken, glad you enjoyed it, sorry about the rain!! Well done on the Lesser Grey Shrike, I went to see it Monday and it had gone!!!
Best Wishes Penny