Norfolk trip

 As usual, an picture click to enlarge...

Before I write about Norfolk the other weekend I should probably write about Cornwall, now a couple of months back.

In brief:

• Reed warbler in a stunted bush on a clifftop.
• Cliffs.
• No choughs on cliffs.
• Badgers, very close to some cliffs
• Got engaged, on some cliffs.

Ok, done.

Norfolk. The weekend started with a spot of filthy twitching at Grafham Water in Cambridgeshire. We eventually found somewhere without tank-traps disguised as drainage ditches where we could park, but it was a pretty long way from the dam. The tick fog meant we couldn’t see far out on the lake, but the walk over was pleasant enough with a huge mixed flock containing marsh tits, bullfinches and a treecreeper keeping us entertained. Siskins wheezed in the mist overhead, with good numbers of skylarks, yellow wagtails and pipits for company.

The sabine’s gull - a life tick - was easily found and allowed for a close approach. Can’t remember the last time a life bird was this obliging. We watched it for ages. We weren’t so lucky with the grey phalarope and couldn’t find it at all. We did find a ringed plover and a sanderling and while these don’t really make up for the phalarope, the sabine’s easily did.

After a pointless check-in at Choseley barns and a record-time tent set-up (the usual place, Burnham Deepdale) we rather predictably hit Titchwell. I know you’re not meant to like Titch, but I do, and the tea was a lifesaver. It’s easy enough to see why you’re not meant to like it and you hear the arguments fairly frequently if you’ve ever read BirdForum or had the dubious fortune to meet a particular kind of elitist birder, but the selection of birds on offer and the ease with which even shit birders like me can see them is pretty special. There aren’t a great many places like it. That I know of. In Norfolk, 10 minutes from the campsite.

Working out towards the seawall produced all the expected goodness - a selection of waders including 3 little stints, curlew sands and the first snipe of the autumn, various ducks, and the first skein of pink-feet overhead.

As the afternoon wore on we waited for the light to move round by having a quick seawatch. This was far more productive (by our admittedly low standards) than either of us had expected. A female eider and a couple of summer plumaged red-throated divers sat not far off shore, terns fished everywhere and decent numbers of gannets, mostly juvenile, hunted further out. Every now and then decent-sized groups of waders passed along the shore-line, the expected Titchwell beach mix of dunlin, sanderlings, knot, bar-tailed godwits, grey plovers and turnstones.

Most interesting of all were the four, possibly five skuas hanging around. There were at least three arctic skuas, and another, slightly larger bird, differently coloured (more greyish-brown then brownish-grey) and differently shaped (more barrel-chested than barrel-bellied). This, after several views and a fair bit of reading, (Collins and the European seabird flight ID thing) we were pretty happy to ID and pencilled it in as a pomarine skua – my second lifer-tick of the trip. The bird's structure was perhaps most noticably different, though I could only say this with certainty on the couple of occasions the bird in question was up with or near a definite arctic. At one point it briefly gave chase, allowing reasonable comparison views. We hung around for long enough to get a few bursts of skuas as they moved up and down the coast, sometimes coming reasonably close in. These pictures I later found to be far harder to ID than the birds in the field (sea?). So I posted them to Birdforum’s ID section – better than you might think – which mostly confirmed what I’d thought. First set is most probably the pomarine skua and the second two are arctics. Of course, if you disagree, please do let me know. I know little more than bugger all about skua ID. 

As with all unfamiliar birds I suppose it's mainly down to experience - in, ooh, 30-40 pom's time I'm sure they'll be piss easy.

The last of the afternoon light, coming in low over the marshes from behind us, was particularly nice. If only I had a better camera lense to take advantage of such opportunities.

And then it was pub time. Brancaster Brewery ales (Oystercatcher is particularly good) and then various, mainly Western-Isles single malts. Awesome.

If I can find more decent pictures - unlikely - and I can think of something to write about - unlikely - and I can be bothered - unlikely - I'll maybe write more. As I say, it's pretty unlikely. I should do. Anyway, a second-day write up would be mainly about not seeing a great deal, stupid dog owners (again), pink-footed geese by the thousand and hunting barn owls. And about being within 15 minute's walk of an arctic warbler (plus associated twitch), twice in the day from different directions, and not knowing about it. Tits.

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I should probably also mention the semipalmated sandpiper at East Tilbury last Saturday. I was lucky enough to be contemplating an exciting trip to Morrisons when the news came through. Morrisons trip was duly delayed, and I went to see it. Very nice.