JWN Andrewes
Poor Judge of Pasta.
Dear God John, please tell me you didn't wear the shorts!!
-
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Long Range Desert Group: Western Sahara by Jeep February 2019 (1 Viewer)
- Thread starter Farnboro John
- Start date
Dear God John, please tell me you didn't wear the shorts!!
foresttwitcher
Virtually unknown member
I bet none of the four looked anything like Sylvia Syms either.
Farnboro John
Well-known member
I am banned by ICAO from wearing shorts lest airline pilots become dazzled by my "beautiful white legs"*. So relax, I didn't. o
Sylvia Syms - cor - even in black and white! I need another cold beer.... B :t:
John
* H Rider Haggard: King Solomon's Mines
More photos from the road:
Dust-devil
Mirage (well, its the edge of the Sahara, its got to be done!)
Wind Turbines (everywhere now.....)
Arab Tents
Sunset in the mirror
Sylvia Syms - cor - even in black and white! I need another cold beer.... B
:t:John
* H Rider Haggard: King Solomon's Mines
More photos from the road:
Dust-devil
Mirage (well, its the edge of the Sahara, its got to be done!)
Wind Turbines (everywhere now.....)
Arab Tents
Sunset in the mirror
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Friday
What for us was a hugely early night meant that we were ready for action at a fairly normal time of the morning rather than halfway through the day as the rest of the week had transpired. We breakfasted on a mixture of stuff including some sweet cakes which went very well with the honey in one of the dishes accompanying it but less well with what turned out to be olive oil! Overhead a couple of Pallid Swifts rocketed past, Collared Doves sat on telephone wires and a White Wagtail patrolled the pavement around the tables hoping for crumbs.
The car hadn’t been molested overnight although we found that most of the charity expedition vehicles that had been parked on both sides of it had already departed so it looked somewhat incongruous in the middle of the road. We packed up and removed it from its strange isolation.
As we reached the edge of Laayoune, instead of setting off across the desert’s maritime edge once more we parked up and got out to investigate a broad river valley loaded with wildfowl, herons and shorebirds. First things I noticed were two pairs of Ruddy Shelducks, one pair on their bellies on the sand, roosting and another pacing slowly across the dry stretches of the riverbed looking for food. I ticked this species in the obvious Cat C or wild influx of 1994 (to hell with the committee in denial) but was quite happy to see these birds in their core range. As well as these the river held Black-winged Stilts, Avocets, Temminck’s Stints, Kentish, Ringed and Little Ringed Plovers, Spoonbills, more flamingos, both godwits, Marbled Ducks, various common European wildfowl, Little Egret, Glossy Ibis and more. Excellent value!
From here I took the wheel, thinking it was time I earned my keep in that respect, and started banging out the miles towards Agadir. Away we went. Desert. Sand. Desert. Sand. Roadworks. Desert. Sand. Hour followed hour…. We decided to stop and view the sea (I can’t remember the real reason. We wanted a change from driving I suspect.)
Having parked, we walked over to the cliff and scanned around. There were shouts for a seal’s head poking up through the surf (and it wasn’t me, honest!) Scopes were deployed and photos taken to be blown up on backs of cameras. The conclusions were inconclusive in the sense that we couldn’t be sure what it was – but a seal it wasn’t.
Meanwhile we were in a fine position to watch visible migration – ah, now that pings the memory. We stopped having raced to get ahead of a big flock of Spoonbills we had spotted from the road, flying North-east along the coast in a huge arrowhead, and we had scooted across the rough ground to the cliff edge to watch them pass, all 111 of them. Amazing.
Swallows including the odd Red-rumped; House and Sand Martins; not just birds either but Painted Ladies and Vagrant Emperors – the latter particularly in massive numbers – were following the line of the cliffs and generally keeping just below the lip due to a strong offshore wind blowing out of the desert. Another much smaller arrowhead came steaming up the coast low over the sea, this time 17 Greater Flamingos on their way to breeding grounds further up. There were other butterflies and dragonflies moving but they proved too quick for positive IDs.
On rocks interspersing the sands of the miles of beach we found a group of 7 Sanderling, with a single Grey Plover and a Ringed Plover hanging nearby. One or two Yellow Wagtails also moved past us, bright colours against the muted sands and rocks. Overhead a huge European Griffon Vulture circled - surely we didn't look that bad - before gliding away from the thermal it had been ascending in.
Having eased our physical tensions we remounted and headed onwards, grinding out the seven hundred or so kilometres towards our destination. The afternoon dragged…. A game of I Spy started. Do you know how many things in the world begin with “S”? We have some idea. Sand, Sky, Sun, Sign, Scenery is how that declaration’s responses start. It was so boring that the game went on for over half an hour without anyone saying it was stupid or ridiculous or, frankly, almost as boring as the drive itself! For the record, Sunvisor lasted quite well, Camel practically no time at all. I should clarify that the Camel was proposed as “C”, not “S” – we did have several rounds!
We stopped to ease springs again and I wrote my name in the sand. This occasioned laughter and even one remark from a party member: “wish I’d thought of doing that”. I told you it was boring.
We stopped for food late afternoon having seen little apart from a few migrating raptors (Osprey, Black Kite, Marsh Harrier) and some Black Wheatears. Were we in Titniz? I can’t remember for certain. (Tiznit. Sorry!) We did go through that town. Friday prayers finished while we were waiting so we saw much of the town en promenade… also donkeys pulling carts full of oranges and a couple of horse taxis. Photos were sneaked rather than open as we realised the locals might want payment for being in shot. Nice food though (local recipe tacos again.)
On into the evening. I gave up the wheel voluntarily. The boys hinted that I hadn’t seen a pedestrian in the road, but it was just that he didn’t move as fast as I thought he would. And I’d had enough really.
A Barbary Falcon in the yellow evening light was the last significant bird of the day – not a great sighting but it was a change from the back end of wheatear spps! As the sky darkened we crossed the low mountain pass that had been completely concealed on the way down, and began the final run in to our overnight stop.
We may have missed the actual turn-off but the phone app map told us to take the next one. As we were all previous Africa travellers we were unfazed by the fact that it was a dirt track across fields: pressing on following tyre tracks we selected the choices at each junction and found the amount of tyre marks matched the phone route – until suddenly we were in among a bunch of deep pools and wondering what exactly was going on….
We pressed on and could see the lights (I mean individual street lights, not a dull orange glow in the sky) of the village – but we couldn’t get to it. We slowed and picked our way and eventually stopped to turn round and try a different track. We heard frogs calling loudly and hopped out to check them out. They were sitting quite serenely despite our lights and the boys got some nice pictures. I had a look at them but it was about 2200 and I had really had enough so I didn’t take photos – I haven’t stopped kicking myself yet.
Steps retraced we found a track that led straight into the village and lo and behold – there was a police post there to check our papers – aaargh!!!! We were thinking WTF – we’ve come across fields to get here, just what are these cops doing? No doubt they were thinking WTF, this is the middle of nowhere, what are these four Brits doing? We all treated each other with the utmost politeness and within a very few minutes we were at the front door of the hotel.
So was the local pooch. A scabby looking sort of pointer/setter/spaniel cross thing, it was curled up on the front door mat. Was it friendly? Was it fatally diseased? We knocked over the top of it and eventually a lady came to the door. The dog's tail thumped the ground. It was old, unwell but man's best friend. Her English was good and her hospitality was faultless, first showing us our rooms and then mentioning that there was beer. Outstanding. Thirteen bottles meant three each and then one left for the individual who preferred not to change to red wine.
There were also crickets and moths around the lights in the fabulous garden, patio and roofed outside dining area. The garden was stepped down, outside it were lush fields fringed with palm trees. Eventually we turned in, anticipating a fine morning’s birding on the morrow.
John
Pictures:
Ruddy Shelduck
Black-winged Stilt
Humps in Road
Spoonbills
Greater Flamingos
What for us was a hugely early night meant that we were ready for action at a fairly normal time of the morning rather than halfway through the day as the rest of the week had transpired. We breakfasted on a mixture of stuff including some sweet cakes which went very well with the honey in one of the dishes accompanying it but less well with what turned out to be olive oil! Overhead a couple of Pallid Swifts rocketed past, Collared Doves sat on telephone wires and a White Wagtail patrolled the pavement around the tables hoping for crumbs.
The car hadn’t been molested overnight although we found that most of the charity expedition vehicles that had been parked on both sides of it had already departed so it looked somewhat incongruous in the middle of the road. We packed up and removed it from its strange isolation.
As we reached the edge of Laayoune, instead of setting off across the desert’s maritime edge once more we parked up and got out to investigate a broad river valley loaded with wildfowl, herons and shorebirds. First things I noticed were two pairs of Ruddy Shelducks, one pair on their bellies on the sand, roosting and another pacing slowly across the dry stretches of the riverbed looking for food. I ticked this species in the obvious Cat C or wild influx of 1994 (to hell with the committee in denial) but was quite happy to see these birds in their core range. As well as these the river held Black-winged Stilts, Avocets, Temminck’s Stints, Kentish, Ringed and Little Ringed Plovers, Spoonbills, more flamingos, both godwits, Marbled Ducks, various common European wildfowl, Little Egret, Glossy Ibis and more. Excellent value!
From here I took the wheel, thinking it was time I earned my keep in that respect, and started banging out the miles towards Agadir. Away we went. Desert. Sand. Desert. Sand. Roadworks. Desert. Sand. Hour followed hour…. We decided to stop and view the sea (I can’t remember the real reason. We wanted a change from driving I suspect.)
Having parked, we walked over to the cliff and scanned around. There were shouts for a seal’s head poking up through the surf (and it wasn’t me, honest!) Scopes were deployed and photos taken to be blown up on backs of cameras. The conclusions were inconclusive in the sense that we couldn’t be sure what it was – but a seal it wasn’t.
Meanwhile we were in a fine position to watch visible migration – ah, now that pings the memory. We stopped having raced to get ahead of a big flock of Spoonbills we had spotted from the road, flying North-east along the coast in a huge arrowhead, and we had scooted across the rough ground to the cliff edge to watch them pass, all 111 of them. Amazing.
Swallows including the odd Red-rumped; House and Sand Martins; not just birds either but Painted Ladies and Vagrant Emperors – the latter particularly in massive numbers – were following the line of the cliffs and generally keeping just below the lip due to a strong offshore wind blowing out of the desert. Another much smaller arrowhead came steaming up the coast low over the sea, this time 17 Greater Flamingos on their way to breeding grounds further up. There were other butterflies and dragonflies moving but they proved too quick for positive IDs.
On rocks interspersing the sands of the miles of beach we found a group of 7 Sanderling, with a single Grey Plover and a Ringed Plover hanging nearby. One or two Yellow Wagtails also moved past us, bright colours against the muted sands and rocks. Overhead a huge European Griffon Vulture circled - surely we didn't look that bad - before gliding away from the thermal it had been ascending in.
Having eased our physical tensions we remounted and headed onwards, grinding out the seven hundred or so kilometres towards our destination. The afternoon dragged…. A game of I Spy started. Do you know how many things in the world begin with “S”? We have some idea. Sand, Sky, Sun, Sign, Scenery is how that declaration’s responses start. It was so boring that the game went on for over half an hour without anyone saying it was stupid or ridiculous or, frankly, almost as boring as the drive itself! For the record, Sunvisor lasted quite well, Camel practically no time at all. I should clarify that the Camel was proposed as “C”, not “S” – we did have several rounds!
We stopped to ease springs again and I wrote my name in the sand. This occasioned laughter and even one remark from a party member: “wish I’d thought of doing that”. I told you it was boring.
We stopped for food late afternoon having seen little apart from a few migrating raptors (Osprey, Black Kite, Marsh Harrier) and some Black Wheatears. Were we in Titniz? I can’t remember for certain. (Tiznit. Sorry!) We did go through that town. Friday prayers finished while we were waiting so we saw much of the town en promenade… also donkeys pulling carts full of oranges and a couple of horse taxis. Photos were sneaked rather than open as we realised the locals might want payment for being in shot. Nice food though (local recipe tacos again.)
On into the evening. I gave up the wheel voluntarily. The boys hinted that I hadn’t seen a pedestrian in the road, but it was just that he didn’t move as fast as I thought he would. And I’d had enough really.
A Barbary Falcon in the yellow evening light was the last significant bird of the day – not a great sighting but it was a change from the back end of wheatear spps! As the sky darkened we crossed the low mountain pass that had been completely concealed on the way down, and began the final run in to our overnight stop.
We may have missed the actual turn-off but the phone app map told us to take the next one. As we were all previous Africa travellers we were unfazed by the fact that it was a dirt track across fields: pressing on following tyre tracks we selected the choices at each junction and found the amount of tyre marks matched the phone route – until suddenly we were in among a bunch of deep pools and wondering what exactly was going on….
We pressed on and could see the lights (I mean individual street lights, not a dull orange glow in the sky) of the village – but we couldn’t get to it. We slowed and picked our way and eventually stopped to turn round and try a different track. We heard frogs calling loudly and hopped out to check them out. They were sitting quite serenely despite our lights and the boys got some nice pictures. I had a look at them but it was about 2200 and I had really had enough so I didn’t take photos – I haven’t stopped kicking myself yet.
Steps retraced we found a track that led straight into the village and lo and behold – there was a police post there to check our papers – aaargh!!!! We were thinking WTF – we’ve come across fields to get here, just what are these cops doing? No doubt they were thinking WTF, this is the middle of nowhere, what are these four Brits doing? We all treated each other with the utmost politeness and within a very few minutes we were at the front door of the hotel.
So was the local pooch. A scabby looking sort of pointer/setter/spaniel cross thing, it was curled up on the front door mat. Was it friendly? Was it fatally diseased? We knocked over the top of it and eventually a lady came to the door. The dog's tail thumped the ground. It was old, unwell but man's best friend. Her English was good and her hospitality was faultless, first showing us our rooms and then mentioning that there was beer. Outstanding. Thirteen bottles meant three each and then one left for the individual who preferred not to change to red wine.
There were also crickets and moths around the lights in the fabulous garden, patio and roofed outside dining area. The garden was stepped down, outside it were lush fields fringed with palm trees. Eventually we turned in, anticipating a fine morning’s birding on the morrow.
John
Pictures:
Ruddy Shelduck
Black-winged Stilt
Humps in Road
Spoonbills
Greater Flamingos
Attachments
Last edited:
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Paul Chapman
Well-known member
Is this yet another bloody warbler split...........? :king:
Good read by the way. I want to go back. We spent one night camping at Oued Jenna and one night at Gleb Jdiane in 2016.
All the best
RafaelMatias
Unknown member
Moth sp3 is a Charissa sp. (similar looking Charissa mucidaria occurs in Portugal: http://www.lepiforum.de/lepiwiki.pl?Charissa_Mucidaria)
Paul Chapman
Well-known member
Picture 2 appears to show a Mediterranean Brocade with a Duponchelia fovealis (pyralid):-
https://ukmoths.org.uk/species/spodoptera-littoralis
https://www.ukmoths.org.uk/species/duponchelia-fovealis/
I'd favour a Polia sp. (same group as Grey or Silvery Arches for the first) and an Ideae sp. (same group as Portland Ribbon Wave for the fourth).
All the best
Last edited:
foresttwitcher
Virtually unknown member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Thank you Rafael and Paul for the moth help. I will try to take it onwards though I don't suppose I can do better than you two!
And now, onward into the last day of our trip.
Saturday 0630 - 0800
When we awoke the garden was full of bird calls – mostly Common Bulbuls but some others I couldn’t identify. It was an easy decision to get up and go out into the pre-sunrise light. Sure enough there were Common Bulbuls perched up around the garden: I thought these weren’t a tick but later discovered that in fact they were, which was nice! House Buntings were also sitting on the walls and roofs, another tick as these are separated from the Striolated Buntings we saw in Israel. There wasn’t much light but I banged out a couple of shots anyway, just as well as the House Buntings didn’t offer opportunities later.
The trip list was also rocketing up, with Laughing Doves, Chaffinches, Greenfinches, Fan-tailed Warbler (“pshaw” to your Zitting Cisticola) and Serin all clamouring for attention.
We thought we’d agreed to have just a snack breakfast so as to get out birding quickly but it turned out to be the full works so we mentally shrugged and wolfed it down. Then it was time to get out to the car and get after some targets. We’d agreed to leave the gear in the rooms and come back for it so we didn’t have to cram everything in while we were out birding.
We got as far as the car and that was it for the next few minutes as a pair of Moussier’s Redstarts was foraging on the stony sloping fields just above the parking area. No sooner had we begun to run down the torrent of raving appreciation for these (well, be honest, the male) but a Black-crowned Tchagra popped up atop a bush a little further up-slope. I’d only ever seen one and that wasn’t in the Western Palaearctic so although not a full tick this was a very welcome bird.
A couple of Magpies didn’t instantly get the heart racing but then I remembered the recent split and between that and the funky blue eyepatch these Maghreb Magpies also received some appreciative remarks.
John
Pictures:
Team birding from the dining area
House Bunting
Sunrise
Common Bulbul
Moussier's Redstart
And now, onward into the last day of our trip.
Saturday 0630 - 0800
When we awoke the garden was full of bird calls – mostly Common Bulbuls but some others I couldn’t identify. It was an easy decision to get up and go out into the pre-sunrise light. Sure enough there were Common Bulbuls perched up around the garden: I thought these weren’t a tick but later discovered that in fact they were, which was nice! House Buntings were also sitting on the walls and roofs, another tick as these are separated from the Striolated Buntings we saw in Israel. There wasn’t much light but I banged out a couple of shots anyway, just as well as the House Buntings didn’t offer opportunities later.
The trip list was also rocketing up, with Laughing Doves, Chaffinches, Greenfinches, Fan-tailed Warbler (“pshaw” to your Zitting Cisticola) and Serin all clamouring for attention.
We thought we’d agreed to have just a snack breakfast so as to get out birding quickly but it turned out to be the full works so we mentally shrugged and wolfed it down. Then it was time to get out to the car and get after some targets. We’d agreed to leave the gear in the rooms and come back for it so we didn’t have to cram everything in while we were out birding.
We got as far as the car and that was it for the next few minutes as a pair of Moussier’s Redstarts was foraging on the stony sloping fields just above the parking area. No sooner had we begun to run down the torrent of raving appreciation for these (well, be honest, the male) but a Black-crowned Tchagra popped up atop a bush a little further up-slope. I’d only ever seen one and that wasn’t in the Western Palaearctic so although not a full tick this was a very welcome bird.
A couple of Magpies didn’t instantly get the heart racing but then I remembered the recent split and between that and the funky blue eyepatch these Maghreb Magpies also received some appreciative remarks.
John
Pictures:
Team birding from the dining area
House Bunting
Sunrise
Common Bulbul
Moussier's Redstart
Attachments
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Saturday 0800 to 1200
Eventually we dragged ourselves away, boarded the Jeep and set off to a village on the South side of the mouth of the Oued Massa estuary to go and look for a big big target bird. Parking right at the end of the village we set off North across a big area of coastal dunes, mainly coated in scrub and grass so not too difficult to walk across. The low vegetation held lots of Western Subalpine Warblers (bit of a presumption I know, but considering where we were, they should have been) and a Great Spotted Cuckoo. A male Sardinian Warbler at least bumped up the trip list.
Our way was blocked by a six-foot chainlink fence. Finding a crumpled bit by a diagonally propped post, Matt went over like a monkey and then we waited while Steve, also a runner and quite lean, demonstrated that fence-climbing isn’t just about fitness. Eventually I growled “come out the way” and crossed the fence almost as quickly as Matt. Given my dwarfish physique (please think Gimli rather than Warwick Davis or those Hi-hos that hang out with Snow White) it’s not an obvious skill for me and Steve was shamed into a more energetic attempt that resulted in him ripping his hand open, though at least he got over.
A few more minutes walking with no sight of the actual estuary and we decided there must be a better way. Turning back, we saw an aged Moroccan on a donkey with a load of cut forage ride round the end of the fence.
Oh dear…. We also took the easy way back.
A quick drive back, across the river and then along a rough track just within the steep part of the valley got us to the paved car park for the observatory. On the way we had an Egyptian Mongoose at the bottom edge of a field in the flat flood plain, a distant but clear view.
An aspirant Moroccan guide offered his services and was rebuffed: a dozing dog decided we were likely company for a walk, sprang to its feet and accompanied us. So much for avoiding dogs….. after a few rejections as it attempted to get friendly it ranged around a bit more but didn’t stop being with us.
Fortunately the dog (actually it was a bitch) was on the uphill side of the track when we found a couple of Barbary Ground Squirrels and a fairly co-operative Hoopoe on the downhill side and photographed them. A couple of Spanish Sparrows also offered an opportunity but my effort with them isn’t all that good. I do have nice ones from Calshot….
We added Black-winged Kites, Iberian Yellow Wagtails (the ones we’d already seen were probably of this variant, but now we had a proper look at perched individuals) Goldfinches, a Stonechat, heard Quail calling, spotted a hovering Kestrel over fields and a Little Grebe in the river. Black Redstart and Linnet, Cetti’s Warbler and Corn Bunting went onto the list.
However, by the time we could see the beach at the end of the estuary we still hadn’t found our target and we turned back again, beginning to hasten a little in order to keep to our timings. A perched Clouded Yellow and a white/female Orange Tip type thing kept the interest going before we regained the car park. From being an object of suspicion the panting dog was now accorded friend status and given not only a drink but a couple of cakes we still had about us before we leapt back in the car and set off for the North tip of the estuary, which we thought we could reach via another village.
On the way through the village, which was a bit of a maze, we were accosted by another aspirant guide who proposed to show us our birds for 150 dirhams (about twelve quid) but we weren’t having any and continued. Out of the car we set off round the corner of the beach and quickly determined that the birds we wanted weren’t there. Damn. Running out of ideas here. Back uphill through soft sand to the car, and lo! The rejected guide was running down the track towards us.
- I can show you the birds for 150 Dirhams.
- We only have twenty minutes
- Ten minutes walk only.
- 100 Dirhams
- OK.
So we hired the guide. He led us back the way we had just come, then right down onto the firm sand of the beach below the high tideline. Then he accelerated… I was head down arse up for the next ten minutes though the others seemed all right. Breathe, I told myself, it’s important to keep breathing….
Suddenly I became aware that those ahead of me (only by a few yards mark you) had stopped and smiles were breaking out.
We had a clear view into the mouth of the estuary and there, into the sun but clear and identifiable, stood 114 Northern Bald Ibis in a single flock. We grilled them through scopes, photographed them regardless of light and heat haze issues and generally relaxed. Then someone not of our party went slightly too close (still not close but too close) and they flew, came out our way, flew round to very briefly give us better light on the flying flock and then settled back where they had been while the flusher went on to provoke a roost of gulls. From the latter we got a nice flypast in good light from an Audouin’s Gull which received the usual burst of shutter clacking from the camera.
I decided it would be tactically and medically sound if I started walking back before the others. I knew they would catch up with me on the way but at least for the first part I could just amble along at my own pace. Sure enough they did catch and pass me, and by the time we were climbing back up the loose sand slope everyone else was ahead of me.
We’d had an enormous flock of 350 Spoonbills go past along the coast so I did occasionally look out to the sea. As I did once more, I saw another largish flock flying over the surf and shouted to the others – it was the Northern Bald Ibis flock heading out of the estuary and off along the coast. Thank heavens they didn’t do that half an hour earlier…..
Back in the car we set off back to our hotel. On the way our third Little Owl of the morning (forgot the first two, that’s narrative for you) sat up close to the road and allowed us to take photos. A bird I’d never seen outside the British Isles, so this was my first time for native as opposed to naturalised individuals. We also had a huge roost of Glossy Ibis in riverside bushes but only had time for a quick snap and off again for lunch.
Pictures:
Blue sp
Egyptian Mongoose
Moussier's Redstart X 2
Eventually we dragged ourselves away, boarded the Jeep and set off to a village on the South side of the mouth of the Oued Massa estuary to go and look for a big big target bird. Parking right at the end of the village we set off North across a big area of coastal dunes, mainly coated in scrub and grass so not too difficult to walk across. The low vegetation held lots of Western Subalpine Warblers (bit of a presumption I know, but considering where we were, they should have been) and a Great Spotted Cuckoo. A male Sardinian Warbler at least bumped up the trip list.
Our way was blocked by a six-foot chainlink fence. Finding a crumpled bit by a diagonally propped post, Matt went over like a monkey and then we waited while Steve, also a runner and quite lean, demonstrated that fence-climbing isn’t just about fitness. Eventually I growled “come out the way” and crossed the fence almost as quickly as Matt. Given my dwarfish physique (please think Gimli rather than Warwick Davis or those Hi-hos that hang out with Snow White) it’s not an obvious skill for me and Steve was shamed into a more energetic attempt that resulted in him ripping his hand open, though at least he got over.
A few more minutes walking with no sight of the actual estuary and we decided there must be a better way. Turning back, we saw an aged Moroccan on a donkey with a load of cut forage ride round the end of the fence.
Oh dear…. We also took the easy way back.
A quick drive back, across the river and then along a rough track just within the steep part of the valley got us to the paved car park for the observatory. On the way we had an Egyptian Mongoose at the bottom edge of a field in the flat flood plain, a distant but clear view.
An aspirant Moroccan guide offered his services and was rebuffed: a dozing dog decided we were likely company for a walk, sprang to its feet and accompanied us. So much for avoiding dogs….. after a few rejections as it attempted to get friendly it ranged around a bit more but didn’t stop being with us.
Fortunately the dog (actually it was a bitch) was on the uphill side of the track when we found a couple of Barbary Ground Squirrels and a fairly co-operative Hoopoe on the downhill side and photographed them. A couple of Spanish Sparrows also offered an opportunity but my effort with them isn’t all that good. I do have nice ones from Calshot….
We added Black-winged Kites, Iberian Yellow Wagtails (the ones we’d already seen were probably of this variant, but now we had a proper look at perched individuals) Goldfinches, a Stonechat, heard Quail calling, spotted a hovering Kestrel over fields and a Little Grebe in the river. Black Redstart and Linnet, Cetti’s Warbler and Corn Bunting went onto the list.
However, by the time we could see the beach at the end of the estuary we still hadn’t found our target and we turned back again, beginning to hasten a little in order to keep to our timings. A perched Clouded Yellow and a white/female Orange Tip type thing kept the interest going before we regained the car park. From being an object of suspicion the panting dog was now accorded friend status and given not only a drink but a couple of cakes we still had about us before we leapt back in the car and set off for the North tip of the estuary, which we thought we could reach via another village.
On the way through the village, which was a bit of a maze, we were accosted by another aspirant guide who proposed to show us our birds for 150 dirhams (about twelve quid) but we weren’t having any and continued. Out of the car we set off round the corner of the beach and quickly determined that the birds we wanted weren’t there. Damn. Running out of ideas here. Back uphill through soft sand to the car, and lo! The rejected guide was running down the track towards us.
- I can show you the birds for 150 Dirhams.
- We only have twenty minutes
- Ten minutes walk only.
- 100 Dirhams
- OK.
So we hired the guide. He led us back the way we had just come, then right down onto the firm sand of the beach below the high tideline. Then he accelerated… I was head down arse up for the next ten minutes though the others seemed all right. Breathe, I told myself, it’s important to keep breathing….
Suddenly I became aware that those ahead of me (only by a few yards mark you) had stopped and smiles were breaking out.
We had a clear view into the mouth of the estuary and there, into the sun but clear and identifiable, stood 114 Northern Bald Ibis in a single flock. We grilled them through scopes, photographed them regardless of light and heat haze issues and generally relaxed. Then someone not of our party went slightly too close (still not close but too close) and they flew, came out our way, flew round to very briefly give us better light on the flying flock and then settled back where they had been while the flusher went on to provoke a roost of gulls. From the latter we got a nice flypast in good light from an Audouin’s Gull which received the usual burst of shutter clacking from the camera.
I decided it would be tactically and medically sound if I started walking back before the others. I knew they would catch up with me on the way but at least for the first part I could just amble along at my own pace. Sure enough they did catch and pass me, and by the time we were climbing back up the loose sand slope everyone else was ahead of me.
We’d had an enormous flock of 350 Spoonbills go past along the coast so I did occasionally look out to the sea. As I did once more, I saw another largish flock flying over the surf and shouted to the others – it was the Northern Bald Ibis flock heading out of the estuary and off along the coast. Thank heavens they didn’t do that half an hour earlier…..
Back in the car we set off back to our hotel. On the way our third Little Owl of the morning (forgot the first two, that’s narrative for you) sat up close to the road and allowed us to take photos. A bird I’d never seen outside the British Isles, so this was my first time for native as opposed to naturalised individuals. We also had a huge roost of Glossy Ibis in riverside bushes but only had time for a quick snap and off again for lunch.
Pictures:
Blue sp
Egyptian Mongoose
Moussier's Redstart X 2
Attachments
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Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Farnboro John
Well-known member
Saturday 1200 – Sunday 0200
Lunch was classic Moroccan dishes including a tagine and was really enjoyable. A couple of Pallid Swifts whizzed around overhead and later on so did a Lesser Kestrel, perhaps the last accession to the trip list.
There is something sad about the end of a trip, even if it’s been very successful (and I’d have to say this one had) so packing up wasn’t a lot of fun. But it had to be done, before we got all the bags into the Jeep one more time, said our farewells to the girls running the hotel and set off for the airport.
The traffic was busier than anything we’d seen all week – sometimes returning to civilisation does freak you out – but apart from lane discipline worse than London it wasn’t too bad and we found our way quite accurately to the garage just outside the airport where everyone refuels to avoid a charge from the hire company. We took the opportunity to pump the tyre up again, as well!
It took two tries to find our way into the car return car park, and once we had there was nobody there to meet us. Don’t need this at the conclusion of a trip, either. Eventually a cheerful chappie appeared, shook all our hands, inspected the car and signed it off as perfectly OK. Ha ha.
We gathered up our bags and headed off to the terminal, where for some reason there was extra security so we had to put the bags through a detector and walk through an arch just to get in the front door. Once we’d done that Jake took the hold bag to the bag drop and we all lined up to go through Customs.
Customs said we had to get our flight passes stamped at the bag drop. What? Why do you think we have early check-in…. nothing for it, off to the bag drop. Still, at least we didn’t have the issues bothering the bloke whose boarding pass was on his phone!
Stamped up, we returned to the queue to go through Customs. Who said “Non” because we had to fill out a departure card. Well why didn’t you say that the first time then? With a feeling of being deliberately mucked about we went to find and fill out departure cards.
Admin completed, we returned to the Customs queue and this time the beggars couldn’t think of a reason to stop us.
Jake having had a bag drop stamp at the outset had been a bit ahead of us and when we walked through and passed our bags through Security we found him white-faced, very stressed and in full panic mode. The reason for this was that first the sniffer machine for his bag and then a swab of his right hand had produced positive results for cocaine!!! Officials were looming over him and he had been separated from the other passengers – fortunately he was still in view and calling distance and could relay his situation to us.
The whole idea was frankly ridiculous to us. We’d been in each other’s pockets all week: nobody could have been on paracetamol without the others knowing, let alone cocaine. But where could he have picked up even a trace? At this point Matt thought coolly and more quickly than the rest of us and pointed out that we’d all shaken hands with the car company rep but Jake had done so first.
This information was shouted to Jake and he managed eventually to explain it to the Moroccan authorities. By then they’d not only got his bag turned more or less inside out but had deployed a drug search German Shepherd dog to give the lot the once-over. The dog had a good old sniff at the lot, sat back and grinned with its tongue lolling happily and said as plain as day, “Dunno what you asked me for, there’s nothing here.” No indication from it on any item in the luggage. So after a while they let him go and we all shot away into the departure lounge.
It was some time till our flight and the wait was as boring and uncomfortable as you would expect. In addition we were now keen to get the hell out of the country as soon as possible….
It was at this point I discovered my room key was still in my pocket. Oops…. Matt apologised by phone with his fluent French and promised to return it by post. Unfortunately this had caused trouble with the owner, but it was a genuine mistake and I don’t know many people who haven’t done it. Sorry….
On the plane, strapped in, right, get us out of here! It was an uneventful flight for the most part: we coasted in near Brighton and were back in the UK, flew at night right across a sparklingly clear London at a height allowing views of the London Eye, Tower Bridge and HMS Belfast, the Shard and any other sight you could think to look for, approached Stansted and were smacked onto the ground so hard that the Boeing 737 actually bounced, I felt the second “landing” as well as the first. Blimey, that’s a first.
Airport niceties concluded, we said our goodbyes, agreed it had been a fun trip and we should do another one with the same team, and piled into our respective vehicles. I was looking forward to a quick trip round the motorways and home, but of course Britain isn’t like that these days and the satnav immediately informed me the M11/M25 junction was closed so I would have to divert through Epping Forest. This took extra time but a few Fallow Deer peered at me from the edge of the woods without giving me heart attacks by bolting across the road and I got home about 0200, ensuring all alarms off before going to sleep.
So, Morocco: Man’s best friend is still his dog, and don’t shake hands with your hire car rep, you don’t know where he’s been!
4,500 km driven
112 spp birds (approx.)
11 spp mammals
Lunch was classic Moroccan dishes including a tagine and was really enjoyable. A couple of Pallid Swifts whizzed around overhead and later on so did a Lesser Kestrel, perhaps the last accession to the trip list.
There is something sad about the end of a trip, even if it’s been very successful (and I’d have to say this one had) so packing up wasn’t a lot of fun. But it had to be done, before we got all the bags into the Jeep one more time, said our farewells to the girls running the hotel and set off for the airport.
The traffic was busier than anything we’d seen all week – sometimes returning to civilisation does freak you out – but apart from lane discipline worse than London it wasn’t too bad and we found our way quite accurately to the garage just outside the airport where everyone refuels to avoid a charge from the hire company. We took the opportunity to pump the tyre up again, as well!
It took two tries to find our way into the car return car park, and once we had there was nobody there to meet us. Don’t need this at the conclusion of a trip, either. Eventually a cheerful chappie appeared, shook all our hands, inspected the car and signed it off as perfectly OK. Ha ha.
We gathered up our bags and headed off to the terminal, where for some reason there was extra security so we had to put the bags through a detector and walk through an arch just to get in the front door. Once we’d done that Jake took the hold bag to the bag drop and we all lined up to go through Customs.
Customs said we had to get our flight passes stamped at the bag drop. What? Why do you think we have early check-in…. nothing for it, off to the bag drop. Still, at least we didn’t have the issues bothering the bloke whose boarding pass was on his phone!
Stamped up, we returned to the queue to go through Customs. Who said “Non” because we had to fill out a departure card. Well why didn’t you say that the first time then? With a feeling of being deliberately mucked about we went to find and fill out departure cards.
Admin completed, we returned to the Customs queue and this time the beggars couldn’t think of a reason to stop us.
Jake having had a bag drop stamp at the outset had been a bit ahead of us and when we walked through and passed our bags through Security we found him white-faced, very stressed and in full panic mode. The reason for this was that first the sniffer machine for his bag and then a swab of his right hand had produced positive results for cocaine!!! Officials were looming over him and he had been separated from the other passengers – fortunately he was still in view and calling distance and could relay his situation to us.
The whole idea was frankly ridiculous to us. We’d been in each other’s pockets all week: nobody could have been on paracetamol without the others knowing, let alone cocaine. But where could he have picked up even a trace? At this point Matt thought coolly and more quickly than the rest of us and pointed out that we’d all shaken hands with the car company rep but Jake had done so first.
This information was shouted to Jake and he managed eventually to explain it to the Moroccan authorities. By then they’d not only got his bag turned more or less inside out but had deployed a drug search German Shepherd dog to give the lot the once-over. The dog had a good old sniff at the lot, sat back and grinned with its tongue lolling happily and said as plain as day, “Dunno what you asked me for, there’s nothing here.” No indication from it on any item in the luggage. So after a while they let him go and we all shot away into the departure lounge.
It was some time till our flight and the wait was as boring and uncomfortable as you would expect. In addition we were now keen to get the hell out of the country as soon as possible….
It was at this point I discovered my room key was still in my pocket. Oops…. Matt apologised by phone with his fluent French and promised to return it by post. Unfortunately this had caused trouble with the owner, but it was a genuine mistake and I don’t know many people who haven’t done it. Sorry….
On the plane, strapped in, right, get us out of here! It was an uneventful flight for the most part: we coasted in near Brighton and were back in the UK, flew at night right across a sparklingly clear London at a height allowing views of the London Eye, Tower Bridge and HMS Belfast, the Shard and any other sight you could think to look for, approached Stansted and were smacked onto the ground so hard that the Boeing 737 actually bounced, I felt the second “landing” as well as the first. Blimey, that’s a first.
Airport niceties concluded, we said our goodbyes, agreed it had been a fun trip and we should do another one with the same team, and piled into our respective vehicles. I was looking forward to a quick trip round the motorways and home, but of course Britain isn’t like that these days and the satnav immediately informed me the M11/M25 junction was closed so I would have to divert through Epping Forest. This took extra time but a few Fallow Deer peered at me from the edge of the woods without giving me heart attacks by bolting across the road and I got home about 0200, ensuring all alarms off before going to sleep.
So, Morocco: Man’s best friend is still his dog, and don’t shake hands with your hire car rep, you don’t know where he’s been!
4,500 km driven
112 spp birds (approx.)
11 spp mammals
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foresttwitcher
Virtually unknown member
Good stuff. Wouldn't have wanted to be in Jake's position at all though.
wolfbirder
Well-known member
Sounds like a typical Ryan Air landing?? Or was it someone else?
I've noticed Ryan Air landings are starting to hit really hard, it makes you wonder how much pressure the landing gear can take. Last time I landed with them, the whole rear fuselage seemed to bounce and reverberate a few seconds.
Great trip report John. Love your style of writing.
I've noticed Ryan Air landings are starting to hit really hard, it makes you wonder how much pressure the landing gear can take. Last time I landed with them, the whole rear fuselage seemed to bounce and reverberate a few seconds.
Great trip report John. Love your style of writing.
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Farnboro John
Well-known member
I haven't flown much with Ryanair and this hasn't encouraged me to seek them out when there are alternatives. :eek!:
Thank you (and others) for the kind words. I do try to entertain as well as inform! :t:
Cheers
John
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