Christine's walking & birds blog

We got down to the coast midday on Friday, and took a short walk from the Beachy Head car park down the cliff to just above sea level. It was blooming freezing! The only notable wildlife sightings were a redwing, a flock of Brent geese arrowing low over the sea, and a briefly seen weasel or stoat spotted by Greger.

Driving through Eastbourne we stopped by the Martello tower near Pevensey and I snapped these great black-backed gulls in bleak conditions. A merganser flew low over the water to the east. We drove to the Premier Inn where we were spending a couple of nights; it was tantalisingly close to wetlands known as the Willingdon levels, but alas I had neither the time nor the energy to explore them. 

On Saturday, our plans for our much-loved walk along the cliffs were thrown into disarray by the discovery that the 13X would not run. This bus, popularly known as the Beachy Head loop, takes you from the Seven Sisters Country Park to East Dean, where it leaves the main road and takes you on a lovely roller coaster of a ride round to Beachy Head. It runs on Sundays and Bank Holidays only; we knew this, but assumed that for Easter they would run it on Saturday as well. Not so. 

This seemed a bit daft; but we devised a route missing out Beachy Head itself, catching the Number 12 bus along the main road, alighting at East Dean and crossing the fields to reach the South Downs Way just east of the Belle Tout lighthouse. This satellite photo (courtesy of Greger) shows the whole walk. 

After all our moaning, it was quite nice to vary the route a little; and after walking up the road from the village we set off across high fields in high spirits! This shows the first part of the route, and the "Beachy Head loop". 

Quite soon after leaving the road, a distant wheatear was seen on the earthworks of an ancient field system. The walking was splendid, and great for poling.

From Long Down, Greger looks back north over the walk so far.

As we descended to the road, a movement in a field to the left caught my eye. There on rough grass among gorse bushes were at least two wheatears, three stonechats, and a couple of meadow pipits.

We crossed the road at Shooter's Bottom where a man walking down through the scrub to the lay-by greeted us with a smile as he passed. He had binoculars round his neck, and I commented to Greger that he was very cheerful and friendly for a birder. Greger pointed out that the Land Rover he got into belonged to the Beachy Head Chaplaincy, whose members patrol the cliffs in the hope of preventing people from leaping to their death. So the bins were probably for the spotting of potential suicides rather than birdwatching.

At Birling Gap there seemed to be an Easter Egg hunt going on, but we saw very few families taking part. Too cold, I should think. The last house to the left of the white track going up the cliff beyond was to give me a bird sighting in an unexpected place.    

We had just passed this house when I saw a Brent goose flying in towards the land, very low, before being hidden behind the building. I thought that it could only have gone down on the lawn of the house, and asked Greger if he would mind me "just popping back" to have a look. Dear, patient Greger, who probably wanted to get on, kindly agreed.

At first I thought I was mistaken as I could see only a jackdaw on the huge lawn, which stretches out to the cliff edge. Then I saw the goose by a pool and thought it had come down to drink; but it started to peck at the tuft of bright green vegetation growing between the paving slabs. I backed carefully away, wondering if the people in the house were birders. What a garden tick!

Next came the lovely Seven Sisters, undulating chalk cliffs giving more grand walking. This is looking back to the Belle Tout lighthouse, seen on the skyline. Just below it is the Birling Gap, where the hotel and the coastguard cottages are in imminent danger of being lost to the sea. 

We saw one pair of fulmars among the gulls, while three or four rock pipits were very active near the path. 

We reached the last sister (once again I neglected to look for the trig point) and took the steep chalky path down to the beach. Walking south of the lagoon we flushed a pair of stonechats. A rock pipit was on the small pool between us and the shingle bank.

On the lagoon were three avocets and a couple of little egrets. The egrets were engaged in a sort of stretch-display. Their necks were extended and their bills pointed skywards so that their heads appeared very slender; and keeping this posture the birds stalked past each other in a slow and stately fashion, turned, and passed one another again, "noses" still in the air. 

Setting off on the last leg of our walk along the meandering River Cuckmere, we heard then saw a raven, soaring high above. A peregrine appeared and circled the raven warily. They never got close enough to one another for a joint photo, and all the shots I got of the falcon were rubbish (even for me). A couple of birders who had also stopped to watch greeted us cheerfully in passing - which made me eat my earlier words about miserable birders! 

By this time we were very cold and very tired, and felt that the best part of the walk (and possibly the best of the birds) was behind us. It was now just a case of turning our backs to the sea, and plodding along the level valley bottom to the car. On a distant gravel spit I could see redshanks and ringed plovers, and on the silvered water just off the spit several little grebes were feeding. 

As I scanned them without much hope, it seemed to me that one had a more slender bill with a slight upturn; but the birds were constantly diving and it was difficult to be sure. They all came a little nearer and I was certain that we were looking at a black-necked grebe. The photos were shot into the sun but this one (much worked on) shows a steep forehead and a delicate retrousse bill, indicating that my ID was correct.