Back at the Posada we each adopted our preferred activity: Paul had finally run out of steam and slept; Steve freshened up; Jeff wandered out after birds and I followed a little later.
I was lucky enough to find three Firecrests in a copse near the hotel. I have never really got to grips with Firecrest photographically and welcomed the chance to improve on my record shots with a prolonged session. I wouldn't say even now that I am finished with them, but the score is now much more even!
Wandering on I ran into Jeff who had seen a Chiffchaff and a few other bits and pieces. He refound the Chiff for me and we maanged some pictures of a male Stonechat with a distinct white rump, though only he managed to show it in his pictures of the bird.
Time moved on and we decided that regardless of our morning encounter we should spend our last wolf-watch at Lobo One. It had been explained to me by the team and especially Marion that my plan of sitting up overnight was now dead in the water. I did my best not to sulk.
First, however, we went for a drive round, spotting a few extra Red Deer but little else and contriving to get lost for a while.
Having sorted ourselves out and headed back to our operational area, we actually did try a spot on the road further up the hill, but just proved to ourselves that the Lobo One stop was superior, and returned to it. After several days of concentration on the task and, it must be admitted, an amount of good living, we were quite tired and three members of the party opted to do their watching from inside the car.
Marion, who concedes to no-one in her anticipation of disaster and was keeping an eye on road traffic, suddenly called to us all that the Guardia Civil were heading our way with blue lights flashing. "everybody in the car!" was the cry, and within a very few seconds we were tazzing down the road towards them as innocently as anything.
As we neared their car, they slowed and indicated that they were stopping, but they didn't make any gestures at us so we went past them and kept going. I understand from the othes that they did in fact turn round and start back down the hill, but my focus was forward as our driver returned to the village in double-quick time, parked behind the Posada and we all headed away up the track towards the hilltop transmitter tower. What, us? haven't been away fro here for hours, officer....
This was all very annoying. We had a strong suspicion that jobsworth had asked the Guardia to keep an eye on us (though Jeff remarked that it would be unfortunate if they'd actually been coming to give us a hot tip on a Wolf round the corner) and heaped more curses on him, the Guardia and over-zealous, over-manned Spanish government agencies generally.
After an enjoyable short walk we decided to finish the declining day by following the Roman Road out onto the heathland (Paul said you could see right along Lobo One from it) and in the process flsuhed an Iberian Hare, whose fast-retreating back end gave brief views except to an unusually slow Maz. We scanned the heathland till it was really too dark to see anything at any distance, seeing two male Hen Harriers but nothing else of note, then returned to the El Tejar to muse upon our dip trip, pack for the morrow and sink a few cervezas before dinner.
The following morning was minus five, the car had half an inch of solid ice on it, and we went fairly carefully in case of black ice.
The intention was to take a different route back, passing some lagoons at Villafillas in the hope of seeing more Great Bustards and perhaps Littles, plus sandgrouse. We had some nice views of GBs, though not as close as on our first day, but didn't spot either of the other targets.
Immediately after leaving the lagoons we got quite thoroughly confused by motorway junctions that didn't have full on/off both direction access, and in sorting ourselves out came to a halt in a village where Jeff exclaimed "Rock Sparrow!" - so I at least got a bird tick out of the trip.
Other than that the drive was unremarkable and we reached the airport in plenty of time to drop off the car. At check-in we had to shuffle some gear between bags as Steve's was stuck shut by a combination lock that had gone bad, so he couldn't put his tripod away, but we managed to sneak everything through without excess baggage charges. We then had to check ourselves through security, this time only Jeff having his bag searched.
Easy flight back: easy drive home. That's all folks.
John
Final Pix:
Posada Rural El Tejar
Firecrest
Stonechat
White Stork at nest.
