Pyrenees trip report day 2-3: time to relax

After a bit too much drama on day 1 of our recent holiday, we were pleased to have no plans for day 2 so that we cold enjoy settling into our accommodation for the first week, an old barn conversion with a pool and views of the Pyrenees just north of Lourdes. I had grand plans before arriving of heading out early up into the mountains to look for birds but the hire car was a bit of a chunk which put me off negotiating the narrow roads, at least without Rowan who has become quite a competent co-driver/navigator. We did venture out a couple of days (see future posts) but it was also good to just relax and enjoy the views and the sunshine.

Black Kite

Black Kite

Black Kite

The only effort required was to occasionally jump out of the pool to photograph the Black Kites which were the most frequently seen 'garden bird' from the balcony. Red Kite also put in the occasional appearance over the course of the week, and we enjoyed an evening flight of Cattle Egret heading south on a few occasions. Black Redstart and Serin were often bombing around the village, and with the telescope, I could pick out Griffon Vultures in the foothills of the Pyrenees, which would occasionally pass high to the west of us.

Red Kite

Black Kite - just clipped the wing off this one!

Cattle Egret

The birding highlight of our stay at the barn though came when the farmer decided to mow the small meadow juts below our balcony. As he did so a small bird which I suspected might be a Quail flew from one end of the meadow to the other, and as the mowing continued until just a small strip was left in the middle, sure enough a Quail flushed at the last moment, enabling me to grab a couple of record shots.

Quail

Quail

The Pyrenees, viewed from the pool

Our eldest son George couldn't join us for most of the first week due to work commitments, but flew in to Lourdes on 2 July, conveniently just 10 minutes away by car. Black-winged Kite can apparently be seen around the airfield but to be honest I didn't look too hard. Once he arrived we were able to check out the sights in Lourdes proper, which included many Crag Martin hawking insects over the River Ousse which runs through the town.

Chateau Fort de Lourdes

Crag Martin, Lourdes

Crag Martin, Lourdes

Crag Martin was also a highlight of a family trip to the spectacular caves of Grottes de Betharram - they were perched on the same window ledges that I photographed them on my first visit here in 2006. Black Redstart and Spotted Flycatcher also gave good views around the outbuildings.

Spotted Flycatcher, Grottes de Betharram

Crag Martin, Grottes de Betharram

Black Redstart, Grottes de Betharram

Pyrenees 2026 trip report: sailing south

We enjoyed our journey on the Portsmouth-Bilbao ferry for a family holiday so much last year that we decided to do it all again in 2026 - though instead of turning west at Bilbao for the Picos de Europa, the plan this year was to head east to the Pyrenees. Departing on 25th June during the UK's second heatwave of the summer, we were relieved when cool sea breezes kicked in just outside of Portsmouth as we enjoyed the first beer of the trip on deck 10 of the Galicia.

Common Dolphin, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

Common Dolphin, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

We departed Pompey around 1900 so there was not much time for wildlife watching before dark that evening, but I was up early the next morning as the ship approached the island of Ouessant off the coast of Brittany. It took a while for diligent sea-watching to reap any rewards but Common Dolphin started to appear more frequently as we steamed south, on one occasion pulling in a small pod of Pilot Whales - a first for me. We enjoyed good views of these, including some spy-hopping as we left the pod behind in our wake.

Common Dolphin, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

Common Dolphin, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

I continued to scour the waters of the Bay of Biscay, and we found ourselves comparing notes with birding royalty in the form of Prof Juliet Vickery, Chief Executive of the BTO, who was sitting next to us on the upper deck, eyes also peeled for cetaceans and seabirds. The latter were extremely few and far between (in contrast to the many Cory's Shearwater we saw on the way south last year) but a steady trickle of Common Dolphin was enough to keep us interested. 

Pilot Whale - 2 dorsal fins plus a blow from a 3rd individual

Pilot Whale, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

A key target species in the Bay of Biscay is the Cuvier's Beaked Whale, and we enjoyed good views of a small pod on the way home in 2025. Heading south this year we scanned the ocean for much of the day without success, and my family and I were eventually driven below by hunger for a quick meal around 1700 to get back on deck for the much anticipated evening session. Juliet lasted a bit longer than us but no sooner had she and her partner headed below than the spotter from Orca on board picked up a Beaked Whale species which was presumed to be Cuvier's, but didn't show enough of it's front end to enable a conclusive identification. Ten minutes later the Orca spotter called a Cuvier's Beaked Whale more confidently, based on the torpedo like action of a whale breaching repeatedly in the distance for several minutes.

Pilot Whale with calf, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

Beaked Whale sp, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

I managed a few record shots but was more concerned about how I would break the news to Juliet that she had missed the show. Fortunately when she and her partner returned to the top deck it became apparent that they had seen the whale from the restaurant window. The rest of the journey couldn't match that for action, but a few more dolphin and a glorious sunset brought the day to a pleasant end.

Beaked Whale sp, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

Beaked Whale sp, Bay of Biscay, 26th June

We disembarked at 0800 on the morning of the 27th June into the baking heat of Bilbao and, rather than heading along the coast east towards our first destination near Lourdes, we took a more south-easterly route to approach the Pyrenees from the Pamplona direction as I had plans to head for a site for White-backed Woodpecker on the way over the mountains. At the first toll gate, however, just over 30 mins out of Bilbao, the car lost power and began spluttering horribly as we tried to pull away, forcing us into a lay-by alongside several perturbed-looking police officers who looked like they were going to shoo us back onto the motorway. 

Cuvier's Beaked Whale breaching (1 of 4)

Cuvier's Beaked Whale breaching (2 of 4)

My Spanish is not great but I muttered something about 'problema' and when they heard the car they soon concurred that I had one! A kindly officer then walked out into 10 lanes of traffic, blew her whistle and stopped the oncoming vehicles so we could make a u-turn into a well-equipped, air conditioned service station which was just a couple of hundred years back in the direction we had come from. The car just about made it chugging in 2nd gear, and I pulled into the last shaded parking space to call for assistance. 

Cuvier's Beaked Whale breaching (3 of 4)

Cuvier's Beaked Whale breaching (4 of 4)

To cut a long story short it took most of the rest of the day to get a tow truck organised to take it to a secure location, but not before we had decanted copious amounts of luggage onto the roadside to await a taxi, into which we squeezed to take us to Bilbao airport to eventually collect a hire car, all fortunately covered under the policy. A capacious Citroen Berlingo thereby became our chariot for the next week or so, and I reluctantly had to knock the idea of looking for White-backed Woodpecker on the head and set the satnav straight for Lourdes to check into our accomodation for the first week of the trip. 

Number 2 son on board the ferry - number 1 would join us later in the holiday

Initially puzzled by the structures on this ship we eventually worked out these are fuel-saving modern sails, and the ship itself is Ariane 6, designed to carry the rocket of the same name

As a footnote to this post, that was 9 weeks ago, and our car remains in Spain topping up its tan and awaiting 'repatriation', so if anyone from LV, their breakdown supplier Britannia or their European partner Opteven is reading this, I'd be grateful if you could stop ignoring my emails, pull your fingers out and bring it home!

Sunset over Biscay, 26th June

Go West!

Back in the day I would occasionally have a day out on the bike to keep myself out of the car, whereas these days it's very much the other way around. So after an 84-mile marathon bike ride to the New Forest on 30th May, which was interrupted by breaking news of a Night Heron back home in Dorset (a less than convenient 22 mile detour), I was in no rush to head out the following weekend. The forecast looked good for a seawatch but I resisted the temptation of heading out into strong winds and rain to join Phil Saunders, Steve Smith and others in the hide at Durlston.

Western Reef Heron - first record for Britain

Western Reef Heron - Y Foryd

It was a good job I did in the end as, shortly before noon, reports filtered through of a Western Reef Heron near Caernarfon in North Wales. Having checked precisely where, and the travel time, I dismissed the possibility of going for it as a bit extreme, but this being the first record for Britain, I figured that Steve and Phil would probably be interested. On putting out feelers, both indeed were, but Phil was unable to go that day. This left it down to Steve who after not much deliberation announced that he would pick me up within the hour. 

The Reef Heron was feeding almost constantly when in the near channel

Reef Heron catching some small fry

My wife's birthday fell on the following Saturday, a date which usually heralds the appearance of a rare bird for which I am unable to travel on account of making her breakfast in bed, organising parties and generally being the perfect husband. So having suggested to her this was fate for a very rare bird to arrive the weekend before, and establishing that she couldn't give less of a shit what I got up to as long as I was around for the birthday, I took that as being as good as permission.

The bright yellow feet stood out even in low light

The neat white chin patch was also a nice feature, though the right side showed a small amount of mottling

With optics, cameras, emergency overnight kit bag and the all important snacks packed, Steve picked me up as promised and we were on the road shortly before 1300. Getting out of Dorset proved the usual challenge, with long queues for no apparent reason as we approached Canford Heath - but it turned out to be the worst bit of only two bits of bad traffic on the whole journey. Winchester, Oxford and Birmingham came and went, although pawning our Swarovskis to pay for the M6 Toll left a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Rumours that the bird might be a dark morph Little Egret threatened to rub salt in but photos started to appear online which suggested it was the real deal.

Western Reef Heron striding across the estuary at low tide

Pulling at a food item but getting only seaweed here

Before we knew it we were turning west off the M6 and onto the North Wales Expressway. This spirited us in no time to Caernarfon and then onto minor roads which led to the margins of Y Foryd (Foryd Bay to the English visitors). This is where we hit the second worst bit of traffic of the journey as the heady mix of edgy twitchers, bad drivers and the twin curses of the modern country lane - fat-arsed SUVs and chunky camper vans - combined to cause gridlock when we were just a few hundred yards short of the estuary. 

They don't mention in the field guides that Western Reef Heron is an explosive excretor!

It was a bit windy on the estuary as the ruffled feathers indicate

With this late hurdle eventually cleared, we were finally able to join a happy looking band of birders watching the heron. Or so we thought: on piling out of the car it turned out the heron had just flow north out of view, and the traffic we had come up against was at least partly birders heading in that direction in hot pursuit. Our good friend David 'Bradders' Bradnum was on hand to point out roughly how far it had gone, so we got back in the car and headed north, which required a lengthy detour east inland to skirt an inlet of the main estuary before heading back west to rejoin it's eastern shore. 

I couldn't get any close comparison shots with Little Egret but this appears to show the slightly longer bill - by various accounts the bird was both bigger and smaller than the local Little Egrets, leading me to conclude it depends on the size of the Egret!

A bit of aggro between the two species

Not wishing to get stuck in traffic again, Steve did a between 3 and 6 point turn on the narrow road to park facing back the way we came and we joined two others who beat us to the spot in scanning the estuary. Of the Western Reef Heron there was, however, no sign and although there were in theory a couple of hours of daylight left, it was dark and overcast, and we started to wonder whether an overnight stay might be necessary. Just as hope was fading a little, Bradders rejoined us and said he would check the estuary even further north of our position. Within a minute he rang to say he had relocated the Heron and it was close in - we piled back in to the car, but as it was facing the wrong way Steve had to do a between 6 and 9 point turn before we could scoot in the general direction of Bradders. 

Another comparison shot

A bit of colour in this wider angle view

We needn't have panicked: we arrived minutes later to find the Heron fishing avidly in the closest channel of the estuary, and enjoyed extended views and a few photos in the fading light before it flew out to the middle of the estuary where it was more distant. It came back and forth a few times giving more good views and, not wishing to stay the night, we decided it was time to head home. 

Didn't quite have the right settings for this fairly close flypast

Another flight shot

The journey back was probably more arduous, if less stressful, than the journey there as road closures, tiredness and a wrong turn which took us perilously close to the Mersey Tunnel conspired to remind us that we were over 300 miles from home when we left the heron. I blamed myself for the wrong turn being too busy chimping through Western Reef Heron photos rather than helping Steve stay on the correct route. With lesson learnt, I tried to be more attentive for the rest of the journey and observe the twitcher's co-pilot's solemn duty to keep the driver awake and entertained.

Western Reef Heron breeds in the Middle East and Africa - so this bird was a long way from home

A summer plumage dark morph adult was a great way for the species to announce its arrival in Britain 

By the time Steve dropped me off it was past 0330 and I could see the sky lightening to the east before the dawn. There's not much that keeps me up that late these days, and I haven't done an extreme twitch like that in a long time, but it was great fun to do - Steve is good company, an excellent driver and a calming influence when a twitch is in danger of getting a bit tense! It was also a change from my usual weekend routine of pedalling myself to exhaustion. That said, I think my hips and back were aching more after spending most of the day in the car compared to spending most of a day on the bike!