Monday, September 04, 2006
We've just returned from a short break in Cornwall. I didn't do much preparation, beyond looking through Birdwatching magazine's southwest round-up for an idea of where to go, because I wanted to find my own birds. I knew we were a bit early for autumn rarities but was confident of a few ticks. We'd booked a room at the Old Quay House, Hayle, and as this looks out over the mudflats of the estuary I'd also hoped to do some digi-scoping. This proved impossible as we found we'd left the telescope and tripod at home.
On the first day we drove to Porthgwarra. We followed the coast path eastwards as far as Minack Open-Air Theatre, seeing fulmar, shag, ravens and a bunch of speckled young stonechats fluttering erratically over the tops of the bracken. There were three ravens, and two of them did some synchronised flying, one with a twig in its bill. A crow went up and bothered them for a while, looking tiny in comparison.
We then walked westwards from Porthgwarra, passing a group of sea-watchers huddled in the lee of the rocks on Hella Point. Flocks of gannets in all plumages were passing below, and Greger pointed out a smaller bird flying low over the water. My first shearwater. I couldn't identify it any further, but Greger was very cheerful and said he would tick it as just a shearwater. I don't know where he's going to tick it, as he doesn't keep a list!
We walked as far as Gwennap Head, taking the lower path to skirt around the amazing Polostoc Zawn - a great chasm which opens at your feet. There were climbers at the foot of the cliffs, composed here of wave-washed blocks of granite. It's a stretch of the coast path to savour - with extra atmosphere thrown in by the eery moaning of the Runnel Stone Buoy.
In the evening we walked round to Lelant Saltings and took the train to St. Ives - a beautiful approach to one of the most beautiful of places. But it was unbelievably busy. Our favourite restaurant - Alba - was full, and so were two others we tried. (It was a two-hour wait to get into a pizza place!) Then we found the Lighthouse. When the waitress plonked our bottle of white wine down and Greger asked for a cooler, she brought a plastic child's seaside bucket full of ice. An ironic touch, presumably. The food was okay, though. Afterwards we walked round the harbour and along the pier, where some fishing boats were being unloaded; and there in the half-dark, among all the onlookers and strollers, were two turnstone. One flew with an "errrk" sort of call, reminding me of the only time I've heard a pectoral sandpiper.
The second day was also bright and sunny. We parked at Godrevy Point and walked to Hell's Mouth. We lingered above Fishing Cove, debating whether it was worth taking the steep path down for a swim - and decided against it.
Birds were scarce. We saw a wheatear at Hell's Mouth, a distant peregrine and a kestrel; and we walked back towards Godrevy Lighthouse in a strengthening and irritating wind.
At Godrevy Point I indulged in a bit of gentle rock scrambling and spent several minutes staring at some "strange" birds which turned out to be female house sparrows.
So we went to Cornwall and got a couple of ravens and an unspecified shearwater - and I call myself a birdwatcher! Back home, I rang Birdline Southwest and learnt there had been a wryneck at Polgigga. If only I had known.
On the first day we drove to Porthgwarra. We followed the coast path eastwards as far as Minack Open-Air Theatre, seeing fulmar, shag, ravens and a bunch of speckled young stonechats fluttering erratically over the tops of the bracken. There were three ravens, and two of them did some synchronised flying, one with a twig in its bill. A crow went up and bothered them for a while, looking tiny in comparison.We then walked westwards from Porthgwarra, passing a group of sea-watchers huddled in the lee of the rocks on Hella Point. Flocks of gannets in all plumages were passing below, and Greger pointed out a smaller bird flying low over the water. My first shearwater. I couldn't identify it any further, but Greger was very cheerful and said he would tick it as just a shearwater. I don't know where he's going to tick it, as he doesn't keep a list!
We walked as far as Gwennap Head, taking the lower path to skirt around the amazing Polostoc Zawn - a great chasm which opens at your feet. There were climbers at the foot of the cliffs, composed here of wave-washed blocks of granite. It's a stretch of the coast path to savour - with extra atmosphere thrown in by the eery moaning of the Runnel Stone Buoy.
In the evening we walked round to Lelant Saltings and took the train to St. Ives - a beautiful approach to one of the most beautiful of places. But it was unbelievably busy. Our favourite restaurant - Alba - was full, and so were two others we tried. (It was a two-hour wait to get into a pizza place!) Then we found the Lighthouse. When the waitress plonked our bottle of white wine down and Greger asked for a cooler, she brought a plastic child's seaside bucket full of ice. An ironic touch, presumably. The food was okay, though. Afterwards we walked round the harbour and along the pier, where some fishing boats were being unloaded; and there in the half-dark, among all the onlookers and strollers, were two turnstone. One flew with an "errrk" sort of call, reminding me of the only time I've heard a pectoral sandpiper.
The second day was also bright and sunny. We parked at Godrevy Point and walked to Hell's Mouth. We lingered above Fishing Cove, debating whether it was worth taking the steep path down for a swim - and decided against it.
Birds were scarce. We saw a wheatear at Hell's Mouth, a distant peregrine and a kestrel; and we walked back towards Godrevy Lighthouse in a strengthening and irritating wind.
At Godrevy Point I indulged in a bit of gentle rock scrambling and spent several minutes staring at some "strange" birds which turned out to be female house sparrows.
So we went to Cornwall and got a couple of ravens and an unspecified shearwater - and I call myself a birdwatcher! Back home, I rang Birdline Southwest and learnt there had been a wryneck at Polgigga. If only I had known.
