The Ria Formosa Natural Park is a remarkable area of marshes, lagoons, mudflats, saltpans and sandbars, extending from 15km west of Faro, eastwards almost to the Spanish border. It is recognised as a wildfowl feeding ground of international importance for such species as flamingo, spoonbill and many waders and wildfowl.
Created in 1755 by a great oceanic earthquake, the landscape of sand dunes, islands and bars to the open sea is still continously reshaped by tidal changes. During the 1870s, this whole area was leased to one family as a royal favour. When the lease ran out in the mid-1980s, the crown no longer existed and the state wanted the land. The family laid claim to it and there have been several years of legal, political and personal battles as to who should have what. However, since then, the Ria Formosa has been a protected nature reserve, despite the heart of it being under the flight path of Faro airport. The water here is still excellent quality, having managed to escape detectable contamination by industrial effluents, sewage dumping, agricultural and radioactive pollutants. The main industry, away from the tourists, is the traditional gathering of sea-salt. Except for the protected area at Ludo, there is considerable human influence on the area: the marshland and mudflat shellfish fauna is extensively exploited, and some of the offshore sandbars are already crowded with holiday homes.
We stop for lunch half way between Ludo and the Praia do Faro where we watch kentish plover and other waders and gulls. Then we visit Les Batty and his family ‑ friends of Ralph and Glenis. Les lectured at the university at Faro and, although his subject was oceanography, he managed to include sea birds and saltpans in his work. He explains to us that many saltpans are being converted to fish farming tanks. As yet there are no bird problems on these fish farms and Les hopes to study the changeover and the effect on birds before the farmers suspect the birds as potential pests and used that as an excuse for more shooting.
At Les's suggestion we give Ludo a miss and carry on to the Castro Marim reserve, stopping to the see the salt pans at Tavira on the way. Salt extraction here is on a larger scale than we had previously seen and there are great white mountains of the stuff waiting to be transported away. There are few birds in those evaporation tanks that are almost dry, but those with water hold black‑winged stilt, avocet, godwit, red and greenshank, and even a couple of sanderling.
Half a dozen stilt feed in one particular tank, with others coming and going all the time. They wade in water just above knee deep, pecking things off the surface or off the bottom, frequently immersing their heads. Sometimes one gets into a rhythm of stepping and dipping. Mostly they feed together quite peaceably, but two birds are giving each other some hassle. One bird sits on the water as the other approaches, stands up when it has passed, then sits down again. When the second bird has moved on several metres, the first one jumps into the air and flies over it, appearing to threaten it, before landing a metre further along. Both birds resume feeding peacefully, then repeat the process after a while.
21 Mar 2009
04 Feb 1989 - Cabo san Vicente
We spent the night beneath the lighthouse at Sagres. No‑one bothered us but there were cars coming and going all night, or so it seemed, with night fishermen.
We breakfast to the sound of thekla lark in song-flight: the lark went up high and flew in circles, sometimes pausing to hover briefly in one place. It did not sing continuously but when the display was last properly finished, the bird plunged earthward with folded wings. There was no doubting its identity, since we had clear views of its pale grey underwing (the crested lark has an orangy‑buff underwing).
Black redstarts were also singing, but from the tops of rocks. Their ditties included a strange, unbird‑like, hissing sound.
While we were talking to the other campers (they were not into wildlife) a mouse appeared from amongst the hottentot figs. I put out our two Longworth traps close by and caught it within five minutes ‑ we have frequently put the traps out at night but never caught anything. This beastie was a young male woodmouse, and it posed for photographs before being returned to forage amongst the figs.
Out at sea - a feeding frenzy of thousands of gannets, gulls, skuas, shearwaters and cetaceans. They disperse after a while then another frenzy starts up with cetaceans (they may have driven fish up to the surface to catch for themselves) and a dozen gannets. The dazzling white plumage of the gannets attracts more gannets to the fishing area, and other species take note of the signal too.
Skuas (bonxies from their size and shape) come in and sit on the water; then more gannets and balearic shearwaters, then gulls and more cetaceans. The skuas move up to the top of the stack of birds, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting bird hoping to get away with a meal. They often chase, three or four together, after a gull, grabbing its wings or tail, or just dive-bombing it until it drops its prize.
The rest of the afternoon is spent driving slowly along rough tracks looking for little bustards. We find lots of lapwing and lots of stones but no bustards.
03 Feb 1989 - Cabo St Vicente
Westwards from Portimao is a rocky coast known as the 'Barlavento' meaning wet and windy. The hilly coastal land becomes less fertile, and the population density decreases. The arid and windswept headlands of Cape St Vincent are composed of limestone rocks, weathered into a plateau and ending abruptly in overhanging cliffs some 80m high.
Apart from being heavily grazed by cattle and sheep, the headlands are relatively undisturbed by man and still hold plenty of botanical interest. The dominant plant is Portuguese cistus which forms low compact spreading bushes with extremely shiny sticky leaves. Few plants are actually in flower, but they include the yellow Calendula sufruticosa and the spiny Astrogalus massiliensis ‑ few plants have common Portuguese names, let alone English. Hottentot fig covers much of the rocky ground.
At Sagres, strong winds of indeterminate direction swirl along the coast, and there is a heavy swell on the sea. Most of the birds over the sea are gannets, predominantly adults heading west. A couple of balearic shearwaters, a little gull, a kittiwake, and a few razorbills, some in summer plumage. Closer inshore are a few black-headed gulls, cormorants and shags, while lesser black‑back and herring gulls either follow the fishing boats or hang-glide along the top of the cliff.
The headland is populated mainly by black redstarts, linnets and meadow pipits. A first winter male blue rock thrush is busy catching bees in flight. It spends some time carefully wiping the sting off each bee before swallowing it.
Sagres is considered to be a good place to see thekla lark, a species very similar to crested lark, differing mainly in habitat and in the colour of its underwing coverts. A thorough look at all the larks today reveals only cresteds – even though our information says they don’t occur here!
Apart from being heavily grazed by cattle and sheep, the headlands are relatively undisturbed by man and still hold plenty of botanical interest. The dominant plant is Portuguese cistus which forms low compact spreading bushes with extremely shiny sticky leaves. Few plants are actually in flower, but they include the yellow Calendula sufruticosa and the spiny Astrogalus massiliensis ‑ few plants have common Portuguese names, let alone English. Hottentot fig covers much of the rocky ground.
At Sagres, strong winds of indeterminate direction swirl along the coast, and there is a heavy swell on the sea. Most of the birds over the sea are gannets, predominantly adults heading west. A couple of balearic shearwaters, a little gull, a kittiwake, and a few razorbills, some in summer plumage. Closer inshore are a few black-headed gulls, cormorants and shags, while lesser black‑back and herring gulls either follow the fishing boats or hang-glide along the top of the cliff.
The headland is populated mainly by black redstarts, linnets and meadow pipits. A first winter male blue rock thrush is busy catching bees in flight. It spends some time carefully wiping the sting off each bee before swallowing it.
Sagres is considered to be a good place to see thekla lark, a species very similar to crested lark, differing mainly in habitat and in the colour of its underwing coverts. A thorough look at all the larks today reveals only cresteds – even though our information says they don’t occur here!
13 Feb 2009
2 Feb 1989 - Caspian Terns
When we arrived here Peter said it was a good two hour walk to go around both the marshes along the sea walls. Today we actually make it the whole way round ‑ it takes eight hours! There are just too many things to stop and look at.
The first excuse for a stop is Jim scoping the estuary while I photograph more flowers ‑ algarve toadflax, salad mustard, asphodel, etc, where they grow behind a bush and are sheltered from the wind. The estuary birds are much as usual, but no sign of raptors today.
We stop frequently to scan the marshes. Some chiffchaffs are feeding on insects over the drainage channels. Some seem to be taking insects off the surface too. I notice one place where a bird regularly uses a perch just below where we stand. After a while I climb half-way down the bank and sit with the camera aimed at the perch. The chiffchaff seems to patrol about fifty metres of channel, using four or five perches along the way to watch for insects. It ignores me as I climb on down to the bottom of the bank and take photographs from there. Beyond the ends of its territory there are other chiffchaffs in their territories.
Jim concentrates on watching the Caspian terns fishing. One bird flies into the strongish east wind, often hanging or hovering before flexing its wings and plunging vertically, disappearing in a splash of water. At the end of its run it flies back with the wind and repeats the process. It catches two items and dips its bill in the water three or four times after each. The third item proves to be quite a mouthful for, ten seconds after swallowing, it brings the fish up again, attracting the attention of black-headed gulls. It downs the prey eventually but this time doesn’t wash its bill afterwards. Another bird also has three consecutive successful dives and flies off looking decidedly heavy in the crop.
Terns are the focus of our attention for the rest of the walk. There is one roosting on its own out on a sandbank with nothing, not even a gull, for size comparison and the sun is behind it. The bird appears buffy-pink underneath and when it shows its head the forehead was white and the bill long and dark, though it looks reddish with the sun behind. It is difficult to work out whether the tail or primaries extend furthest ‑ I think it is holding one wing lower than the other just to confuse the issue. We decide it is a sandwich tern ‑ definitely not a Caspian and the other species should not be here yet anyway ‑ but it highlights more gaps in our knowledge.
On another sandbank off the western marsh holds a roost of gulls with half a dozen Caspian terns. The terns are either in pairs comprising an adult plus a juvenile, or as single adults. The juveniles occasionally turn face to face with their parent and beg half-heartedly ‑ they remain partly dependent for up to eight months. We do not see a youngster actually being fed but they still give whistling begging calls in flight as well as on the ground. They are all in different scruffy stages of moult, showing some dark-marked feathers on the tertials, coverts and secondaries. Although they do not breed until three or four years of age, the juveniles attain adult non‑breeding plumage within a year and are then indistinguishable from their parents except in the breeding season.
The first excuse for a stop is Jim scoping the estuary while I photograph more flowers ‑ algarve toadflax, salad mustard, asphodel, etc, where they grow behind a bush and are sheltered from the wind. The estuary birds are much as usual, but no sign of raptors today.
We stop frequently to scan the marshes. Some chiffchaffs are feeding on insects over the drainage channels. Some seem to be taking insects off the surface too. I notice one place where a bird regularly uses a perch just below where we stand. After a while I climb half-way down the bank and sit with the camera aimed at the perch. The chiffchaff seems to patrol about fifty metres of channel, using four or five perches along the way to watch for insects. It ignores me as I climb on down to the bottom of the bank and take photographs from there. Beyond the ends of its territory there are other chiffchaffs in their territories.
Jim concentrates on watching the Caspian terns fishing. One bird flies into the strongish east wind, often hanging or hovering before flexing its wings and plunging vertically, disappearing in a splash of water. At the end of its run it flies back with the wind and repeats the process. It catches two items and dips its bill in the water three or four times after each. The third item proves to be quite a mouthful for, ten seconds after swallowing, it brings the fish up again, attracting the attention of black-headed gulls. It downs the prey eventually but this time doesn’t wash its bill afterwards. Another bird also has three consecutive successful dives and flies off looking decidedly heavy in the crop.
Terns are the focus of our attention for the rest of the walk. There is one roosting on its own out on a sandbank with nothing, not even a gull, for size comparison and the sun is behind it. The bird appears buffy-pink underneath and when it shows its head the forehead was white and the bill long and dark, though it looks reddish with the sun behind. It is difficult to work out whether the tail or primaries extend furthest ‑ I think it is holding one wing lower than the other just to confuse the issue. We decide it is a sandwich tern ‑ definitely not a Caspian and the other species should not be here yet anyway ‑ but it highlights more gaps in our knowledge.
On another sandbank off the western marsh holds a roost of gulls with half a dozen Caspian terns. The terns are either in pairs comprising an adult plus a juvenile, or as single adults. The juveniles occasionally turn face to face with their parent and beg half-heartedly ‑ they remain partly dependent for up to eight months. We do not see a youngster actually being fed but they still give whistling begging calls in flight as well as on the ground. They are all in different scruffy stages of moult, showing some dark-marked feathers on the tertials, coverts and secondaries. Although they do not breed until three or four years of age, the juveniles attain adult non‑breeding plumage within a year and are then indistinguishable from their parents except in the breeding season.
1 Feb 1989 - Bird ringing
The storms have passed leaving us with fairly clear sunny weather again. Peter has the mist nets up in the area where we watched for hawfinches yesterday ‑ he hopes to net one so that we can see it close up. When a single bird flies off, he is fairly certain its mate has been caught as they are usually seen in pairs.
Having caught the bird, Peter is very careful in handling it ‑ the huge bull designed for cracking cherry stones was quite capable of exerting the same pressure on human fingers or anything else that came close enough. This individual is a female, indicated by the greyish edges to her secondaries, which have a short blocky shape peculiar to hawfinches. She gets her revenge ‑ managing to bite Peter's finger as he releases her ‑ then she sits and sulks in a nearby tree for a while.
There is a variety of birds in the mist nets, and Peter again explains things about plumage that can be seen only with a bird in the hand. In northern Europe juvenile passerines undergo a partial moult in the autumn and through their first winter are distinguishable from the adults by their juvenile flight feathers. However, in the warmer south, the young birds have a complete moult in the autumn so that it can be difficult for ringers to age them with any certainty. Peter shows us several birds that have retained just a few primary or tail feathers, or primary coverts from their juvenile plumage. Other birds show abrasion of the white tips of the flight feathers so that the ends looked distorted ‑ extreme cases were probably southern birds, as the strong sun weakens the feathers.
In the field it is usually difficult to see the colour patterns on individual feathers and therefore to appreciate just how the overall markings are made up. In the goldfinch, for example, the golden wing-patch is not formed by solid yellow marks right across the flight feathers, but by the outer edges of the feathers having a yellow stripe. The inner part of the feather is pale. On the female greenfinch the relatively pale primary panel is formed again by a yellow strip on the outer edges of the feathers while the male's brighter panel is formed by the yellow strip extending to the feather shaft.
I spend the afternoon in a hide hoping to photograph some small birds but without success. Jim walks out along the east marsh and returns with tales of an adult spoonbill and an eagle. He took detailed notes of the latter ‑ ginger head with white marks on either side, white belly and underwing coverts, dark flight feathers, brownish mantle and scapulars, extensive black on tail, white rump etc ‑ after waiting so long to see an eagle he wanted to be able to identify it properly. It was, in fact, a pale-phase booted eagle. A few of these winter in southern Portugal, or perhaps it was a migrant returning from Africa.
Walking through the vineyard this evening, we flush two quail - close enough to see their stripes. One flies into a barbed wire fence in its haste, hopefully it is not badly hurt for it continues on its way with a whir of wings. Our sojourn is made to the accompaniment of mole crickets and marsh frogs.
Having caught the bird, Peter is very careful in handling it ‑ the huge bull designed for cracking cherry stones was quite capable of exerting the same pressure on human fingers or anything else that came close enough. This individual is a female, indicated by the greyish edges to her secondaries, which have a short blocky shape peculiar to hawfinches. She gets her revenge ‑ managing to bite Peter's finger as he releases her ‑ then she sits and sulks in a nearby tree for a while.
There is a variety of birds in the mist nets, and Peter again explains things about plumage that can be seen only with a bird in the hand. In northern Europe juvenile passerines undergo a partial moult in the autumn and through their first winter are distinguishable from the adults by their juvenile flight feathers. However, in the warmer south, the young birds have a complete moult in the autumn so that it can be difficult for ringers to age them with any certainty. Peter shows us several birds that have retained just a few primary or tail feathers, or primary coverts from their juvenile plumage. Other birds show abrasion of the white tips of the flight feathers so that the ends looked distorted ‑ extreme cases were probably southern birds, as the strong sun weakens the feathers.
In the field it is usually difficult to see the colour patterns on individual feathers and therefore to appreciate just how the overall markings are made up. In the goldfinch, for example, the golden wing-patch is not formed by solid yellow marks right across the flight feathers, but by the outer edges of the feathers having a yellow stripe. The inner part of the feather is pale. On the female greenfinch the relatively pale primary panel is formed again by a yellow strip on the outer edges of the feathers while the male's brighter panel is formed by the yellow strip extending to the feather shaft.
I spend the afternoon in a hide hoping to photograph some small birds but without success. Jim walks out along the east marsh and returns with tales of an adult spoonbill and an eagle. He took detailed notes of the latter ‑ ginger head with white marks on either side, white belly and underwing coverts, dark flight feathers, brownish mantle and scapulars, extensive black on tail, white rump etc ‑ after waiting so long to see an eagle he wanted to be able to identify it properly. It was, in fact, a pale-phase booted eagle. A few of these winter in southern Portugal, or perhaps it was a migrant returning from Africa.
Walking through the vineyard this evening, we flush two quail - close enough to see their stripes. One flies into a barbed wire fence in its haste, hopefully it is not badly hurt for it continues on its way with a whir of wings. Our sojourn is made to the accompaniment of mole crickets and marsh frogs.
31 Jan 1989 - Cape Hares
As we headed back to the Quinta da Rocha last night, the rain bucketed down. Rain, thunder and lightening continued well into the night, and returned intermittently until three o'clock this afternoon. We spent this morning in the common room, talking to Peter and reading some of the few books he has been able to collect about natural history in Portugal. One of his problems in trying to teach people about conservation is the lack of reference books, even decent field guides, about the countryside. Books in Portuguese are as thin on the ground as books in English; no wonder we had very little success in finding information before we left Britain.
When the rain eventually stops we take a short walk along the east marsh, stopping to look for the hawfinches and bluethroats that Peter says aere to be seen in the area. We have no luck with the finches but one bluethroat shows itself briefly; it flies away from us showing its orange tail patches, and lands on a bush with the characteristic tail flicking behaviour before diving for cover.
Perhaps because the marshes are nearly flooded after the rain, today we have especially good views of about half a dozen hares in the open fields beyond. These are cape hares, they replace the brown hare throughout Iberia, although until recently they were considered to be just a sub-species of it. Perhaps the most obvious difference between the two species is the large amount of white on the belly and legs and on the ears of the Cape hares. A dog chases one across the marsh but without a hope of catching it.
Often we hear foxes barking at night, this evening there is one out in the open like the hares. It is dark grey in colour.
We are curious about where the stone curlews go to feed at night, so we stay down by the marsh at dusk to see in which direction they depart. A dozen or so fly overhead towards going northeast, but in the twilight we can’t see how far they go. Meanwhile sixteen common sandpipers gather to bathe and call on the mud at low tide
When the rain eventually stops we take a short walk along the east marsh, stopping to look for the hawfinches and bluethroats that Peter says aere to be seen in the area. We have no luck with the finches but one bluethroat shows itself briefly; it flies away from us showing its orange tail patches, and lands on a bush with the characteristic tail flicking behaviour before diving for cover.
Perhaps because the marshes are nearly flooded after the rain, today we have especially good views of about half a dozen hares in the open fields beyond. These are cape hares, they replace the brown hare throughout Iberia, although until recently they were considered to be just a sub-species of it. Perhaps the most obvious difference between the two species is the large amount of white on the belly and legs and on the ears of the Cape hares. A dog chases one across the marsh but without a hope of catching it.
Often we hear foxes barking at night, this evening there is one out in the open like the hares. It is dark grey in colour.
We are curious about where the stone curlews go to feed at night, so we stay down by the marsh at dusk to see in which direction they depart. A dozen or so fly overhead towards going northeast, but in the twilight we can’t see how far they go. Meanwhile sixteen common sandpipers gather to bathe and call on the mud at low tide
30 Jan 1989 - Serra da Monchique
The Serra de Monchique comprises two peaks some 900m high overlooking the western Algarve. The exposed granite‑like rock becomes white and crumbly as it weathers into clays; rainwater percolates through and gives the many springs a distinctive mineral composition rich in chlorides and sulphides. The Romans turned the place into a health spa and the bottled spring water is now sold for drinking in the local towns.
These mountains form one of the classic botanical localities of the Algarve, though most of the original oak forests that clothed the hills has been replaced by extensive plantations of Eucalypt and pine. Olive groves and cork woods are grown to an altitude of 550m, while there is still some chestnut coppice in a few areas. In between the trees are the luxury homes of north European expatriots and Algarve businessmen, and the roadsides carry the colours and scent of introduced Camellia and Acacia trees.
It is too windy and grey to attempt to photograph the spectacular displays of lusitanian heath and Erica hibernica which try to brighten the hillsides. Another colourful plant, Rhododendron ponticum, which is invading many upland areas in Britain, is a native here; and the strawberry tree also groes luxuriantly; a brandy is distilled locally from its berries.
Perhaps the birds have also decided that it is too cold and windy, and have gone into hiding for there are few to be seen, and then only briefly.
The winter bird atlas produced by A Rocha Trust mentions scops owl in the foothills of Monchique and Jim is determined to try to hear them. I had my doubts, but am pleased to be proved wrong. We drive along a dirt road and stop near an orange orchard. At about 6 pm Jim picks out an unfamiliar sound amongst the cowbells, caterpillar tractors, barking dogs etc. We listen closely and time the calls to every 5 or 6 seconds; then another joins in. The calls seem to come from some trees about 100 m away. Suddenly the calls come from much closer: two birds with different voices ‑ male and female duetting. The original callers can still be heard in the distance.
These mountains form one of the classic botanical localities of the Algarve, though most of the original oak forests that clothed the hills has been replaced by extensive plantations of Eucalypt and pine. Olive groves and cork woods are grown to an altitude of 550m, while there is still some chestnut coppice in a few areas. In between the trees are the luxury homes of north European expatriots and Algarve businessmen, and the roadsides carry the colours and scent of introduced Camellia and Acacia trees.
It is too windy and grey to attempt to photograph the spectacular displays of lusitanian heath and Erica hibernica which try to brighten the hillsides. Another colourful plant, Rhododendron ponticum, which is invading many upland areas in Britain, is a native here; and the strawberry tree also groes luxuriantly; a brandy is distilled locally from its berries.
Perhaps the birds have also decided that it is too cold and windy, and have gone into hiding for there are few to be seen, and then only briefly.
The winter bird atlas produced by A Rocha Trust mentions scops owl in the foothills of Monchique and Jim is determined to try to hear them. I had my doubts, but am pleased to be proved wrong. We drive along a dirt road and stop near an orange orchard. At about 6 pm Jim picks out an unfamiliar sound amongst the cowbells, caterpillar tractors, barking dogs etc. We listen closely and time the calls to every 5 or 6 seconds; then another joins in. The calls seem to come from some trees about 100 m away. Suddenly the calls come from much closer: two birds with different voices ‑ male and female duetting. The original callers can still be heard in the distance.
29 Jan 1989
Going for a walk this morning is quite a peaceful affair after yesterday, birds on the west marsh are similar to those of the previous few days with the addition of two white storks. Numbers of some species are fluctuating noticeably, in particular black‑tailed godwit, as flocks pass through on their way back to the north.
Frogs call from the wet areas amongst the sharp‑pointed rushes towards the southern end of the marsh. Jim investigates but finds instead a large brown grasshopper hiding behind three stalks of rush. It tries to hide by manoeuvring to keep the stalks between us and itself. When it feels that ploy is no longer effective, it creeps surreptitiously backwards down the stems until lost in the heart of the plant. It is quite mottled brown and buff, with bands on the hind femora which are also red on the inside; probably an Egyptian grasshopper.
The stone-curlew are sitting out in the open on the east marsh ‑ we wonder if the stone in the name refers to their statue‑like habits during the day. Jim goes back in the evening to see if they really do move then. Their activity is at first limited to short bouts of preening, and one bird head-bobs between preening bouts, then inactivity returns. As dusk falls birds became more active with lots of wing stretching and waving, showing off the pale underwings and white upperwing markings. Some birds run and jump but there is no calling. Activity intensifies as the birds became more restless, eventually they take off and fly north, low over the marsh, presumably to feeding grounds.
Frogs call from the wet areas amongst the sharp‑pointed rushes towards the southern end of the marsh. Jim investigates but finds instead a large brown grasshopper hiding behind three stalks of rush. It tries to hide by manoeuvring to keep the stalks between us and itself. When it feels that ploy is no longer effective, it creeps surreptitiously backwards down the stems until lost in the heart of the plant. It is quite mottled brown and buff, with bands on the hind femora which are also red on the inside; probably an Egyptian grasshopper.
The stone-curlew are sitting out in the open on the east marsh ‑ we wonder if the stone in the name refers to their statue‑like habits during the day. Jim goes back in the evening to see if they really do move then. Their activity is at first limited to short bouts of preening, and one bird head-bobs between preening bouts, then inactivity returns. As dusk falls birds became more active with lots of wing stretching and waving, showing off the pale underwings and white upperwing markings. Some birds run and jump but there is no calling. Activity intensifies as the birds became more restless, eventually they take off and fly north, low over the marsh, presumably to feeding grounds.
3 Feb 2009
28 Jan 1989 - Quinta da Rocha
Quinta da Rocha II Jan 28
Early morning and late afternoon are relatively windless times of day here, in between there are strong offshore breezes. I wanted to photograph some plants and 9.30 ‑10.30 am proves to be just right with the sun high enough to persuade the asphodel blooms to open but not so harsh as to burn the dew off. Mediterranean catchfly in particular dries out and wrinkles up once the dew is gone.
Corn buntings are birds we have seen and heard little of since leaving Oxfordshire (1984) but here we are becoming reacquainted. Their key-jangling calls are distinguishable from those of the serin by being lower pitched and less musical, and their song is preceded by several tk‑tk‑tk notes which we have not heard from the serin. Crested larks, which are also quite common here, make calls that seem less musical and flatter toned than either skylark or woodlark.
When staying at a place like Cruzinha, one can find oneself doing rather unexpected things. Today is an open day for members of the International Church and about fifty people are expected. The itinerary includes a nature walk around Quinta da Rocha and Peter asked if we would help as fifty was rather a large number for two people to cope with.
We readily agreed to help although taking other people around an area you hardly know is a somewhat daunting prospect. Nevertheless it all seems to go quite well. Jim almost gets carried away with trying to convince people that those grey and white birds are not just seagulls ‑ caspian terns are the stars there ‑ while my group seems happy to look at less mobile things such as plants, herons, egrets and a small copper butterfly.
The visitors are mostly British expatriots, but they do not seem to appreciate that they are part of the demand for the golf courses etc. that is swallowing up the wetlands here.
Early morning and late afternoon are relatively windless times of day here, in between there are strong offshore breezes. I wanted to photograph some plants and 9.30 ‑10.30 am proves to be just right with the sun high enough to persuade the asphodel blooms to open but not so harsh as to burn the dew off. Mediterranean catchfly in particular dries out and wrinkles up once the dew is gone.
Corn buntings are birds we have seen and heard little of since leaving Oxfordshire (1984) but here we are becoming reacquainted. Their key-jangling calls are distinguishable from those of the serin by being lower pitched and less musical, and their song is preceded by several tk‑tk‑tk notes which we have not heard from the serin. Crested larks, which are also quite common here, make calls that seem less musical and flatter toned than either skylark or woodlark.
When staying at a place like Cruzinha, one can find oneself doing rather unexpected things. Today is an open day for members of the International Church and about fifty people are expected. The itinerary includes a nature walk around Quinta da Rocha and Peter asked if we would help as fifty was rather a large number for two people to cope with.
We readily agreed to help although taking other people around an area you hardly know is a somewhat daunting prospect. Nevertheless it all seems to go quite well. Jim almost gets carried away with trying to convince people that those grey and white birds are not just seagulls ‑ caspian terns are the stars there ‑ while my group seems happy to look at less mobile things such as plants, herons, egrets and a small copper butterfly.
The visitors are mostly British expatriots, but they do not seem to appreciate that they are part of the demand for the golf courses etc. that is swallowing up the wetlands here.
27 Jan 1989 - mole crickets
Back at the A Rocha centre we are intrigued by a loud trilling sound that fills the air. Jim tracks it down to a small area of soil in the vineyard, but there is so sign of life there. Peter explains that the sound comes from a mole cricket which has built itself a resonating chamber, a horn‑shaped underground megaphone, in which it sings. The noise was so loud it was painful to listen to close up. In fact, one species of mole cricket produces a sound which reaches 92 decibels one metre above the chamber, and it can be heard, on a still day, up to 600 metres away!
27 Jan 1989 - Baragem da Bravura
During the afternoon we visit the Barragem da Bravura, one of the larger reservoirs built to alleviate the water shortage in the rapidly expanding tourist towns of the coast. The reservoir is situated at the western end of the Serra de Monchique, part of the range of mountains separating the Algarve from the rest of Portugal. This area has the highest annual rainfall of the Algarve and the abundant water available from perennial springs has led to the building of many rich irrigated terraces.
Above the terraces the land has been over-used in the past and the vegetation has degraded to a sea of gum‑leaved cistus. This plant has no economic value, although local peasants used to cut and dry it to use as fuel. Now it is being ploughed up by huge machines on caterpillar tracks to make way for Eucalypt plantations. As Portugal industrialises, it is developing a vast appetite for paper, and, to meet this need, the EEC is giving 100% planting grants for forests of this fast-growing species.
The water in the reservoir is red from the silt washed off the ploughed slopes by the recent rains. It looks an awfully barren landscape with the only sign of life being about 200 cattle egrets foraging on the newly turned soil. We don't stay long.
Above the terraces the land has been over-used in the past and the vegetation has degraded to a sea of gum‑leaved cistus. This plant has no economic value, although local peasants used to cut and dry it to use as fuel. Now it is being ploughed up by huge machines on caterpillar tracks to make way for Eucalypt plantations. As Portugal industrialises, it is developing a vast appetite for paper, and, to meet this need, the EEC is giving 100% planting grants for forests of this fast-growing species.
The water in the reservoir is red from the silt washed off the ploughed slopes by the recent rains. It looks an awfully barren landscape with the only sign of life being about 200 cattle egrets foraging on the newly turned soil. We don't stay long.
27 Jan 1989 - Ponta da Piedada
The weather looks too nice for sea-watching today, but we go to the Ponta de Piedade anyway as it is quite close to Quinta da Rocha. There are a few each of Balearic shearwaters, skuas and gannets, lots of herring and lesser black back gulls and one little gull. On land, birds are noticeably in pairs ‑ fan‑tailed and sardinian warblers and stonechats especially. Even the herring gulls on the stacks are standing around in twos. The cliff top vegetation is dominated by foreigners ‑ prickly pear, century plant, and bermuda buttercup.
26 Jan 1989 - Quails etc
There was a terrific thunderstorm overhead during the night and it rains hard on and off this morning. We go with Sara (Peter's assistant) to Portimao for shopping; she shows us a pleasant indoor market. Vegetables and bread are a little more expensive here than in Setubal, but still very cheap by northern European standards. There seems to be better quality produce in market places, in small shops you just take pot luck with what they have, and they might have had it for a week or so. In the markets it all looks fresh and appetizing.
Two days ago Bella (Peter's dog) flushed a quail from the vineyard near the camper. Jim and Bella go through the crop again at lunchtime today and flush another; Peter thinks there are probably one or two pairs to each vineyard here. There is a good population of red-legged partridge too, in the evenings we often hear their 'chuffa chuffa chuffa' territorial calls.
This afternoon we go walking with Sara to look for plants in bloom. As she has been here only since last June many of the flowers were new to her too, and she takes notes from which to identify them later. Wall brown, clouded yellow, green‑striped white and painted lady butterflies are all on the wing.
We stop in a field overlooking the east marsh, Jim has the telescope out and finds some stone-curlew standing out in the open. Their peculiar hunched posture, yellow bill and eye, and black lines on the coverts are all clearly visible. There seem to be several groups of four or five just standing around doing nothing much.
Small numbers of swallows pass by going north, then suddenly the sky is filled with house and crag martins apparently going south ‑ do they know something we don't? Later there was a compact flock of 40 ‑ 50 black‑headed gulls moving overhead, gliding in anticlockwise circles on a thermal as it drifts across the sky.
On the leaf of a white arum lily that I was trying to photograph, I find a small, long, narrow cricket ‑ it is well camouflaged by standing along a vein on the leaf and I'm sure I would have missed it if I had not been peering through the camera viewfinder. From the grasshopper field guide we identify it as Phaneroptera nana.
Two days ago Bella (Peter's dog) flushed a quail from the vineyard near the camper. Jim and Bella go through the crop again at lunchtime today and flush another; Peter thinks there are probably one or two pairs to each vineyard here. There is a good population of red-legged partridge too, in the evenings we often hear their 'chuffa chuffa chuffa' territorial calls.
This afternoon we go walking with Sara to look for plants in bloom. As she has been here only since last June many of the flowers were new to her too, and she takes notes from which to identify them later. Wall brown, clouded yellow, green‑striped white and painted lady butterflies are all on the wing.
We stop in a field overlooking the east marsh, Jim has the telescope out and finds some stone-curlew standing out in the open. Their peculiar hunched posture, yellow bill and eye, and black lines on the coverts are all clearly visible. There seem to be several groups of four or five just standing around doing nothing much.
Small numbers of swallows pass by going north, then suddenly the sky is filled with house and crag martins apparently going south ‑ do they know something we don't? Later there was a compact flock of 40 ‑ 50 black‑headed gulls moving overhead, gliding in anticlockwise circles on a thermal as it drifts across the sky.
On the leaf of a white arum lily that I was trying to photograph, I find a small, long, narrow cricket ‑ it is well camouflaged by standing along a vein on the leaf and I'm sure I would have missed it if I had not been peering through the camera viewfinder. From the grasshopper field guide we identify it as Phaneroptera nana.
25 Jan 1989 - bird ringing
Winter is trying to catch up with us again, today is overcast and decidedly chilly with a cold easterly wind.
We have long been waiting an opportunity to be trained as bird-ringers, but at home in Pembrokeshire there are only two trainers and they are busy with other trainees. Peter is not qualified to train anyone, but, to our delight, he was happy to show us birds in the hand, and explain what he was doing to them. In fact, ringing as a method of teaching people about birds has proved most useful here in Portugal where few people have seen binoculars, and those that were interested in birds tended to look for the more spectacular ones, such as raptors. To us it is a pleasure and privilege to see the birds close up, but to many of the Portuguese students and teachers who come here, it is a revelation.
Peter is already doing the rounds of the mist nets by the time we have finished breakfast, business is slow and most of the customers are chiff-chaffs, blackcaps and Sardinian warblers. Some of these had been netted last winter or even the winter before.
There is a limit to how much feather detail can be seen through binoculars or telescope, especially on a uniform coloured bird like a blackbird. Peter shows us one which looks like an adult with yellow bill, eye-ring and body feathers, yet retains juvenile tail, primaries and coverts, and some secondaries. One of the chiff‑chaffs has plumage in excellent condition, considering that its last moult would have been about four months ago: only two of its tail feathers show any signs of wear!
The western marshes
The western marshes of the Quinta da Rocha are different in character to the eastern ones: there are more salt pans, more open water and areas of rushes, as well as extensive salicornia and sueada fields. Birds are still difficult to see unless they fly, which the 3‑400 lapwing, and forty or so black tailed godwit often do although we could not see what disturbed them. Peter had mentioned the lack of records of jack snipe this winter, however a dog running across the marsh ahead of us flushes a couple so we can confirm their presence as per normal.
Out on the mudflats two little stint looking minute compared with the dunlin they were feeding with. The two birds bump into each other, then have a bathe before something disturbs the whole group and they all fly off.
The wind blows decidedly cold across the marsh and we head home in the shelter of the peninsular. Serins make a lot of noise in the orange groves, two males in particular are trying to attract one female. They try to out‑sing each other with wings drooping and tail flicking to show off the bright yellow rump patch. Sometimes they face one way and sometimes the other, but she appears unimpressed.
A flock of fifty or so spotless starlings commute between a tree and the ground and back again. They act much like common starlings and the sound is similar too, but it includes a grasshopper‑like rattle and a few rhythmic higher pitched noises. There aren’t any telephone imitations though ‑ perhaps because there are not many telephones here.
After a couple of months of wondering where first winter black‑headed gulls have gone, we now get an the answer, they come to the Algarve. Jim estimates the proportion of youngsters here at 15 ‑ 20 %, compared to the one or two per cent we have seen elsewhere.
When we walked into the village for bread and milk this morning we saw further signs of migration: a dozen or so house and crag martins hawked for insects around the church, then moved off after a short while, heading north. On the way back we saw a couple of swallows
We have long been waiting an opportunity to be trained as bird-ringers, but at home in Pembrokeshire there are only two trainers and they are busy with other trainees. Peter is not qualified to train anyone, but, to our delight, he was happy to show us birds in the hand, and explain what he was doing to them. In fact, ringing as a method of teaching people about birds has proved most useful here in Portugal where few people have seen binoculars, and those that were interested in birds tended to look for the more spectacular ones, such as raptors. To us it is a pleasure and privilege to see the birds close up, but to many of the Portuguese students and teachers who come here, it is a revelation.
Peter is already doing the rounds of the mist nets by the time we have finished breakfast, business is slow and most of the customers are chiff-chaffs, blackcaps and Sardinian warblers. Some of these had been netted last winter or even the winter before.
There is a limit to how much feather detail can be seen through binoculars or telescope, especially on a uniform coloured bird like a blackbird. Peter shows us one which looks like an adult with yellow bill, eye-ring and body feathers, yet retains juvenile tail, primaries and coverts, and some secondaries. One of the chiff‑chaffs has plumage in excellent condition, considering that its last moult would have been about four months ago: only two of its tail feathers show any signs of wear!
The western marshes
The western marshes of the Quinta da Rocha are different in character to the eastern ones: there are more salt pans, more open water and areas of rushes, as well as extensive salicornia and sueada fields. Birds are still difficult to see unless they fly, which the 3‑400 lapwing, and forty or so black tailed godwit often do although we could not see what disturbed them. Peter had mentioned the lack of records of jack snipe this winter, however a dog running across the marsh ahead of us flushes a couple so we can confirm their presence as per normal.
Out on the mudflats two little stint looking minute compared with the dunlin they were feeding with. The two birds bump into each other, then have a bathe before something disturbs the whole group and they all fly off.
The wind blows decidedly cold across the marsh and we head home in the shelter of the peninsular. Serins make a lot of noise in the orange groves, two males in particular are trying to attract one female. They try to out‑sing each other with wings drooping and tail flicking to show off the bright yellow rump patch. Sometimes they face one way and sometimes the other, but she appears unimpressed.
A flock of fifty or so spotless starlings commute between a tree and the ground and back again. They act much like common starlings and the sound is similar too, but it includes a grasshopper‑like rattle and a few rhythmic higher pitched noises. There aren’t any telephone imitations though ‑ perhaps because there are not many telephones here.
After a couple of months of wondering where first winter black‑headed gulls have gone, we now get an the answer, they come to the Algarve. Jim estimates the proportion of youngsters here at 15 ‑ 20 %, compared to the one or two per cent we have seen elsewhere.
When we walked into the village for bread and milk this morning we saw further signs of migration: a dozen or so house and crag martins hawked for insects around the church, then moved off after a short while, heading north. On the way back we saw a couple of swallows
24 Jan 1989 - Quinta da Rocha
The Quinta da Rocha (Farm on the Rock) is the study area of the A Rocha centre (the house itself is called Cruzinha). It comprises a peninsular of high ground with a marsh on either side separated from estuaries by sea walls, and beyond that the saltmarsh and mudflats of these estuaries. Compared with the huge estuaries we have seen so far, like the Tagus and Sado, this area looks insignificant. However, although it supports only 1.1% of the total Portuguese winter wader population on wetlands, it does have a greater number of species than any other wetland, and is 7th highest in terms of total number of birds present. But, like many other small wetlands along this coast, it is under threat of drainage for tourist developments such as golf courses.
The area is of national importance for its wintering lapwing, stone curlew and greenshank. We are particularly interested in the stone curlew: about forty overwinter in the east marshes and Peter says we are almost certain to flush them out as we walk along the sea wall. As they get little disturbance from anything else, and it is not breeding season, he doesn’t think that a few birders walking around is any problem to them. They will just fly a hundred metres or so and land again.
As we walk along the sea wall and see how extensive the marshes are, we have more doubts about finding them than disturbing them. Our first sighting is of a dozen or so strange shaped birds flying low on the far side of the marsh with the sun behind them. They land within a short distance, but all we see through the telescope are grey plover and lapwing. The second sighting is similar. By the third sighting we have walked far enough for the light to be more in our favour and as the birds land we see their golden‑brown colour with white marks on the wings. Once in the vegetation they are again well hidden from us.
Out on the estuary itself are other exciting birds. As I lay flat out trying to photograph small flowers, Jim shouts 'Osprey', and I have to hurriedly rearrange myself and my equipment. The bird sends waders scattering and is mobbed by greenshank and black-headed gulls. It quarters the water and three times dives to the surface but without catching anything. It is the first record here for two years and, being such a spectacular bird, it makes a good point for conserving the area. However, as far as local hunters are concerned it is just another bird to shoot at.
Although the shooting of raptors (and the destruction of eggs, nests and young) has been illegal since 1974, it is still the dream of most Portuguese hunters to have a stuffed trophy, and they don't seem to mind taking risks in shooting a forbidden species. Since 1986 there has been an examination for applicants for hunting permits, so new hunters should, hopefully, be better educated about their quarry and understand the reasons for conservation.
Out on the sea wall, Jim says to look out for large terns, and by scanning with the telescope he finds some ‑ caspians that dwarf the sandwich terns and have big dagger-like red bills. They take to the air as the incoming tide swallows the mudbank they have been standing on, and we watch one fishing for a while. It quarters the water, sometimes wheeling and plunging, hitting the water harder and with more of a splash than a sandwich tern; if it catches anything it swallows it before leaving the water. For birds that seem so bulky on land, they look buoyant and elegant in flight.
It is hard to think in terms of migration and nesting at the end of January but such things are already happening here. We see a half-dozen swallows and two house martins flying along the estuary, and some black-tailed godwit high overhead. The Mediterranean gulls and spotted redshank are also migrants. Many resident small birds are singing or carrying nest material and little owls are crooning noisily.
Bird ringing
Peter is netting passerines in fine black nets this evening and shows us some of his 'catch'. Each bird is weighed, measured and given a ring with a unique number on it. The progress of individual birds can thus be followed ‑ resident birds may be caught several times in the garden during their lives, while migrants might be caught somewhere else and add to our knowledge of their routes and habits.
Peter shows us that, on average, blackcaps are putting on weight, especially the males which are preparing for migration north, females stay around for an extra week or so and their weights are still normal. Chiffchaffs were also showing a weight increase, but they are recovering from losing a gram or so after two days of heavy rain last week had made feeding conditions difficult for them ‑ their normal weight is only about seven grams!
The area is of national importance for its wintering lapwing, stone curlew and greenshank. We are particularly interested in the stone curlew: about forty overwinter in the east marshes and Peter says we are almost certain to flush them out as we walk along the sea wall. As they get little disturbance from anything else, and it is not breeding season, he doesn’t think that a few birders walking around is any problem to them. They will just fly a hundred metres or so and land again.
As we walk along the sea wall and see how extensive the marshes are, we have more doubts about finding them than disturbing them. Our first sighting is of a dozen or so strange shaped birds flying low on the far side of the marsh with the sun behind them. They land within a short distance, but all we see through the telescope are grey plover and lapwing. The second sighting is similar. By the third sighting we have walked far enough for the light to be more in our favour and as the birds land we see their golden‑brown colour with white marks on the wings. Once in the vegetation they are again well hidden from us.
Out on the estuary itself are other exciting birds. As I lay flat out trying to photograph small flowers, Jim shouts 'Osprey', and I have to hurriedly rearrange myself and my equipment. The bird sends waders scattering and is mobbed by greenshank and black-headed gulls. It quarters the water and three times dives to the surface but without catching anything. It is the first record here for two years and, being such a spectacular bird, it makes a good point for conserving the area. However, as far as local hunters are concerned it is just another bird to shoot at.
Although the shooting of raptors (and the destruction of eggs, nests and young) has been illegal since 1974, it is still the dream of most Portuguese hunters to have a stuffed trophy, and they don't seem to mind taking risks in shooting a forbidden species. Since 1986 there has been an examination for applicants for hunting permits, so new hunters should, hopefully, be better educated about their quarry and understand the reasons for conservation.
Out on the sea wall, Jim says to look out for large terns, and by scanning with the telescope he finds some ‑ caspians that dwarf the sandwich terns and have big dagger-like red bills. They take to the air as the incoming tide swallows the mudbank they have been standing on, and we watch one fishing for a while. It quarters the water, sometimes wheeling and plunging, hitting the water harder and with more of a splash than a sandwich tern; if it catches anything it swallows it before leaving the water. For birds that seem so bulky on land, they look buoyant and elegant in flight.
It is hard to think in terms of migration and nesting at the end of January but such things are already happening here. We see a half-dozen swallows and two house martins flying along the estuary, and some black-tailed godwit high overhead. The Mediterranean gulls and spotted redshank are also migrants. Many resident small birds are singing or carrying nest material and little owls are crooning noisily.
Bird ringing
Peter is netting passerines in fine black nets this evening and shows us some of his 'catch'. Each bird is weighed, measured and given a ring with a unique number on it. The progress of individual birds can thus be followed ‑ resident birds may be caught several times in the garden during their lives, while migrants might be caught somewhere else and add to our knowledge of their routes and habits.
Peter shows us that, on average, blackcaps are putting on weight, especially the males which are preparing for migration north, females stay around for an extra week or so and their weights are still normal. Chiffchaffs were also showing a weight increase, but they are recovering from losing a gram or so after two days of heavy rain last week had made feeding conditions difficult for them ‑ their normal weight is only about seven grams!
27 Jan 2009
23 Jan 1989 - towards the Algarve
There is a slight frost this morning but the sun soon burns that off. We walk around the campsite and see similar birds to yesterday. A stonechat sitting on top of a bush singing. The distinctive calls of hoopoes provide an unusual background noise, and we track them down to three birds engaged in some sort of display of pecking order or pairing up, almost camouflaged against an orange-red roof. As male and female are almost identical it is difficult to work out who is doing what to who. After about five minutes they disperse.
Moving on south towards the Algarve, we pass huge rolling fields of cultivation, or sparse grass and cattle. It looks ideal habitat for bustards, sandgrouse, and stone curlew; we stop a few times to look for them but with no luck. Lapwing are more in evidence than anything else, but where there are trees or scrub we find blue and great tit, finches, thrushes, etc.
There is space to park next to a bridge across the Rega do Torgal, and we look down into the valley where blackcaps, chiffchaffs and tits are busy. On alder trees near the bridge a flock of siskins are attacking last year's cones, their movements shaking pollen off the nearby catkins to blow about onto this year's cones.
The Algarve
Although we have been driving along a major route, the road was no better, and often worse, than a 'C' road in Britain, with very little traffic. However, along the coast of the Algarve, west of Lagos, it turns into a major highway with a smooth surface and lots of cars. We head for the Praia da Rocha, near Portimao, where we had been told of a cheap campsite, but the town is more like a building site of hotels and the campsite is even less impressive. We also have the address of an 'ornitho‑religious centre' called A Rocha, so we thought we would try it for local birding information and perhaps they would know of a campsite.
After asking a few times we find the place and are made most welcome by Peter Harris who runs the centre, the only educational residential centre for natural history in Portugal. There were Pembrokeshire connections too, for Peter had been on Skokholm and spent time at 'the Hookses' on Dale airfield, and his wife Miranda is from Newport, Pembs. They have four children ‑ Bethan, Elspeth, Jeremy and Jo.
Moving on south towards the Algarve, we pass huge rolling fields of cultivation, or sparse grass and cattle. It looks ideal habitat for bustards, sandgrouse, and stone curlew; we stop a few times to look for them but with no luck. Lapwing are more in evidence than anything else, but where there are trees or scrub we find blue and great tit, finches, thrushes, etc.
There is space to park next to a bridge across the Rega do Torgal, and we look down into the valley where blackcaps, chiffchaffs and tits are busy. On alder trees near the bridge a flock of siskins are attacking last year's cones, their movements shaking pollen off the nearby catkins to blow about onto this year's cones.
The Algarve
Although we have been driving along a major route, the road was no better, and often worse, than a 'C' road in Britain, with very little traffic. However, along the coast of the Algarve, west of Lagos, it turns into a major highway with a smooth surface and lots of cars. We head for the Praia da Rocha, near Portimao, where we had been told of a cheap campsite, but the town is more like a building site of hotels and the campsite is even less impressive. We also have the address of an 'ornitho‑religious centre' called A Rocha, so we thought we would try it for local birding information and perhaps they would know of a campsite.
After asking a few times we find the place and are made most welcome by Peter Harris who runs the centre, the only educational residential centre for natural history in Portugal. There were Pembrokeshire connections too, for Peter had been on Skokholm and spent time at 'the Hookses' on Dale airfield, and his wife Miranda is from Newport, Pembs. They have four children ‑ Bethan, Elspeth, Jeremy and Jo.
22 Jan 1989 - Lagoa de Santo Andre
We say a final goodbye to Setubal this morning, then cross the Sado estuary again to follow the coast southwards. In places the road overlooks the mudflats, and with the tide only half way up there are numerous waders feeding busily. For a change we are on a road with room to pull off to the side, though the weather is so hazy we cannot see far.
The road goes through sand dunes planted with maritime and stone pines, olive groves and some cork oak. Further south there are areas of eucalypt plantation which are well enough established to have been coppiced ‑ two to four thick trunks are allowed to grow from each stool. There are also saltpans and rice fields with a few white storks and lots of egrets.
The Lagoa de Melides seems deserted except for twenty or so black-headed gulls and two cattle egrets, so we continue to the Lagoa de Santo Andre which is much larger and has a convenient, though expensive, campsite on its shore. There are plenty of stone and maritime pines in the campsite and lots of birds, including blackbirds and serins in song, and green woodpeckers and hoopoes feeding on the abundant ants.
The hoopoes did not seem approachable for photography, but as we watch the lake from under trees a total of seven birds come to dust bathe and feed in a sunny area about forty metres away. Some are slightly nervous of us but the fact that so many turned up suggest an evening ritual. They all freeze when a pair of green woodpeckers fly over calling noisily, then resume activities. They leave more or less together, and in the same direction, perhaps going to roost.
The lagoon itself is brackish, with vast expanses of reedbeds, and surrounded by dunes, pine and oak woodland, and farmland. A single connection with the sea is opened once a year to lower the water level, then the sand‑dunes are reformed by the wind and sea and the opening closes up again. There were other human influences too: some of the reed and sedge beds were cut and burnt for pasture; there was pollution from urban effluent and the lake was intensively fished. Nevertheless breeding birds include a variety of herons and terns, and there is good passerine migration.
Even in winter the lagoon is not quiet, there are scores of little grebe trilling away, and good populations of coot, moorhen and water rail added their voices. Cattle egrets gather on a marshy area, eighty of them at the final count before they all fly off together to their roost site, which could be up to 10 km away. Little owls become more active and noisy as the evening wears on.
The road goes through sand dunes planted with maritime and stone pines, olive groves and some cork oak. Further south there are areas of eucalypt plantation which are well enough established to have been coppiced ‑ two to four thick trunks are allowed to grow from each stool. There are also saltpans and rice fields with a few white storks and lots of egrets.
The Lagoa de Melides seems deserted except for twenty or so black-headed gulls and two cattle egrets, so we continue to the Lagoa de Santo Andre which is much larger and has a convenient, though expensive, campsite on its shore. There are plenty of stone and maritime pines in the campsite and lots of birds, including blackbirds and serins in song, and green woodpeckers and hoopoes feeding on the abundant ants.
The hoopoes did not seem approachable for photography, but as we watch the lake from under trees a total of seven birds come to dust bathe and feed in a sunny area about forty metres away. Some are slightly nervous of us but the fact that so many turned up suggest an evening ritual. They all freeze when a pair of green woodpeckers fly over calling noisily, then resume activities. They leave more or less together, and in the same direction, perhaps going to roost.
The lagoon itself is brackish, with vast expanses of reedbeds, and surrounded by dunes, pine and oak woodland, and farmland. A single connection with the sea is opened once a year to lower the water level, then the sand‑dunes are reformed by the wind and sea and the opening closes up again. There were other human influences too: some of the reed and sedge beds were cut and burnt for pasture; there was pollution from urban effluent and the lake was intensively fished. Nevertheless breeding birds include a variety of herons and terns, and there is good passerine migration.
Even in winter the lagoon is not quiet, there are scores of little grebe trilling away, and good populations of coot, moorhen and water rail added their voices. Cattle egrets gather on a marshy area, eighty of them at the final count before they all fly off together to their roost site, which could be up to 10 km away. Little owls become more active and noisy as the evening wears on.
20 Jan 1989 - Arrabida
The Parc Natural da Arrabida comes with quite a reputation ‑ 108 sq km of limestone outcrops on coast, with steep shrub-covered slopes up to 500m. It is rich in western Atlantic plants, with over a thousand species recorded in the park.
Actually it is a whaleback of a mountain, about 55 km long, running parallel to the coast and falling in scrub‑covered cliffs to the sea. To the north are the low alluvial lands around the Tagus estuary. Just offshore are a group of islands which form a zoological reserve, the breeding grounds of a number of seabirds. Being close to the large urban centres of Lisbon and Setubal, the Serra is a popular recreation area, and attracts a great many visitors. Quarrying and second‑home developments are degrading some areas, and plant collecting is not uncommon.
A road climbs steadily to about 400m from sea level near Setubal. Along the highest part of the road there are pull off places and lookout points, and the scenery is beautiful. This is our first proper look at the Mediterranean maquis vegetation, and Arrabida is considered the best developed example in Portugal. There are few plants in flower at this time of year ‑ rosemary, strawberry tree, kermes oak, sweet alison, french lavender and the ubiquitous bermuda buttercup. Most plants are evergreen shrubs that have to be identified by their leaves, among them phoenician juniper, Smilax aspera and various cistus species.
I don't think I’ve seen any plant here which I have seen wild in Britain, but the same can’t be said for birds. At our first stop we are surrounded by chiff‑chaffs, blue and great tits, green‑, gold‑ and chaffinches; the only 'foreigners' are serins, sardinian warblers, and a distant blue rock thrush. As the day wears on we see less and less birdlife, insects are limited to a few locusts, bees and a painted lady.
Mammals have been few and far between, but the fox across the valley is worth waiting for. It looks a good healthy specimen, but definitely not red, except in name. It is mostly black and grey with some sandy colour on the head, flanks and shoulders, and, unfortunately, it is much too far away to be photographed. Its progress through the scrub is punctuated with stops to scent mark territory and investigate anything that seems worthy of note.
To the east of the maquis is an area of cork oak where the ground underneath has been recently ploughed and is providing a good supply of earthworms etc for cattle egrets, white wagtails and meadow pipits, and about 40 azure-winged magpies which look far more colourful and spectacular in the sun than when we first saw them in overcast conditions.
Later our attention is taken with hirundines flying over the hills ‑ crag martins. After hawking for a while they fly over our heads and off into the sunset.
Actually it is a whaleback of a mountain, about 55 km long, running parallel to the coast and falling in scrub‑covered cliffs to the sea. To the north are the low alluvial lands around the Tagus estuary. Just offshore are a group of islands which form a zoological reserve, the breeding grounds of a number of seabirds. Being close to the large urban centres of Lisbon and Setubal, the Serra is a popular recreation area, and attracts a great many visitors. Quarrying and second‑home developments are degrading some areas, and plant collecting is not uncommon.
A road climbs steadily to about 400m from sea level near Setubal. Along the highest part of the road there are pull off places and lookout points, and the scenery is beautiful. This is our first proper look at the Mediterranean maquis vegetation, and Arrabida is considered the best developed example in Portugal. There are few plants in flower at this time of year ‑ rosemary, strawberry tree, kermes oak, sweet alison, french lavender and the ubiquitous bermuda buttercup. Most plants are evergreen shrubs that have to be identified by their leaves, among them phoenician juniper, Smilax aspera and various cistus species.
I don't think I’ve seen any plant here which I have seen wild in Britain, but the same can’t be said for birds. At our first stop we are surrounded by chiff‑chaffs, blue and great tits, green‑, gold‑ and chaffinches; the only 'foreigners' are serins, sardinian warblers, and a distant blue rock thrush. As the day wears on we see less and less birdlife, insects are limited to a few locusts, bees and a painted lady.
Mammals have been few and far between, but the fox across the valley is worth waiting for. It looks a good healthy specimen, but definitely not red, except in name. It is mostly black and grey with some sandy colour on the head, flanks and shoulders, and, unfortunately, it is much too far away to be photographed. Its progress through the scrub is punctuated with stops to scent mark territory and investigate anything that seems worthy of note.
To the east of the maquis is an area of cork oak where the ground underneath has been recently ploughed and is providing a good supply of earthworms etc for cattle egrets, white wagtails and meadow pipits, and about 40 azure-winged magpies which look far more colourful and spectacular in the sun than when we first saw them in overcast conditions.
Later our attention is taken with hirundines flying over the hills ‑ crag martins. After hawking for a while they fly over our heads and off into the sunset.
19 Jan 1989 - Cabo Espichel
We check out of the Setubal campsite this morning and head west through the Serra de Arrabida to Cabo Espichel, a remote western promontory with windmills and small white houses, marble quarries and donkey carts, and small stone‑walled fields of beans and corn. The hamlet of Cabo Espichel itself comprises two rows of houses facing each other across a large rectangle with a church at the far end. Behind the church are some curious 'totem' poles of blocks of stone, some with carved patterns, and one pole topped with a stone head. The blocks are fairly recently cut, making the poles look even more peculiar.
The Cape area is mostly open rolling landscape of stony fields with fairly sparse vegetation at this time of year. On a fence post not far from the road, a little owl enjoys the sun, and further away a medium sized glossy black but untidy-looking bird with yellow bill and orange legs sings to the world ‑ a spotless starling.
The cliffs here are over a hundred metres straight up and not ideal for sea watching. Things might be better the other side of the lighthouse, though we do not check there. Watching, under the right weather conditions, is said to be good, but, in today's calm sunny weather, we see only a few gannets, herring gulls and razorbills.
Jim sees a peregrine sitting on the cliff, and keeping an eye on us; the buff edges to its mantle, scapular and tertial feathers gave it a mottled appearance - it is probably one of last summer's chicks.
A sardinian warbler flies into a bush about four metres from us and feeds quietly amongst the foliage without coming into the open to be photographed. A butterfly patrols the cliff top and doesn’t settle to be identified properly, though we believe it to be a green striped white.
Most of the birds around us are black redstarts and stonechats, with a few linnets, goldfinches etc. Two birds fly in and land in front of me, I just get the binoculars on them when Jim speaks ‑ about something through the telescope in another direction ‑ and the birds fly off with a loud and unfamiliar call. I am left with the impression of something resembling the field guide picture of calandra lark. From then on we check almost everything that moves but see nothing more of these birds.
There is one bird that did turn out to be something new ‑ a male blue rock thrush. It stood more upright than a blackbird, had drooping wings, a shorter tail and a dark bill. It kept disappearing behind a strange-looking building - Senhora do Cabo's sanctuary, I think - and then reappearing near to where we first saw it. We went round behind the building hoping for a better look but without success. Later we saw both male and female blue rock thrush fly past us.
Having been warned about bandits and break‑ins, we have always made a point of leaving nothing of value in the camper and locking it properly. Since we were out of tourist season and out of tourist areas, there had been no problem, but that changed here at Cabo Espichel.
There had been a policeman here this morning, and the camper had been quite safe. In the afternoon we set off for another walk, but after a while Jim sees a guy walking towards the van; next time he looks the guy is trying to force a lock. Jim whistles loudly, and the guy looks around. At the second whistle he saunters off, not quite sure but not wanting to take a risk. We lose nothing except the confidence to leave the van unattended.
Albufeira
The map shows a lagoon at Albufeira a short way northwards along the coast. The AA book says there should be an open campsite there, but as happens so often, we find several campsites all closed. The lake is disappointing too. The marshy inland end is fenced off with no obvious access points, and nowhere along the road where we can stop and scan it.
The Cape area is mostly open rolling landscape of stony fields with fairly sparse vegetation at this time of year. On a fence post not far from the road, a little owl enjoys the sun, and further away a medium sized glossy black but untidy-looking bird with yellow bill and orange legs sings to the world ‑ a spotless starling.
The cliffs here are over a hundred metres straight up and not ideal for sea watching. Things might be better the other side of the lighthouse, though we do not check there. Watching, under the right weather conditions, is said to be good, but, in today's calm sunny weather, we see only a few gannets, herring gulls and razorbills.
Jim sees a peregrine sitting on the cliff, and keeping an eye on us; the buff edges to its mantle, scapular and tertial feathers gave it a mottled appearance - it is probably one of last summer's chicks.
A sardinian warbler flies into a bush about four metres from us and feeds quietly amongst the foliage without coming into the open to be photographed. A butterfly patrols the cliff top and doesn’t settle to be identified properly, though we believe it to be a green striped white.
Most of the birds around us are black redstarts and stonechats, with a few linnets, goldfinches etc. Two birds fly in and land in front of me, I just get the binoculars on them when Jim speaks ‑ about something through the telescope in another direction ‑ and the birds fly off with a loud and unfamiliar call. I am left with the impression of something resembling the field guide picture of calandra lark. From then on we check almost everything that moves but see nothing more of these birds.
There is one bird that did turn out to be something new ‑ a male blue rock thrush. It stood more upright than a blackbird, had drooping wings, a shorter tail and a dark bill. It kept disappearing behind a strange-looking building - Senhora do Cabo's sanctuary, I think - and then reappearing near to where we first saw it. We went round behind the building hoping for a better look but without success. Later we saw both male and female blue rock thrush fly past us.
Having been warned about bandits and break‑ins, we have always made a point of leaving nothing of value in the camper and locking it properly. Since we were out of tourist season and out of tourist areas, there had been no problem, but that changed here at Cabo Espichel.
There had been a policeman here this morning, and the camper had been quite safe. In the afternoon we set off for another walk, but after a while Jim sees a guy walking towards the van; next time he looks the guy is trying to force a lock. Jim whistles loudly, and the guy looks around. At the second whistle he saunters off, not quite sure but not wanting to take a risk. We lose nothing except the confidence to leave the van unattended.
Albufeira
The map shows a lagoon at Albufeira a short way northwards along the coast. The AA book says there should be an open campsite there, but as happens so often, we find several campsites all closed. The lake is disappointing too. The marshy inland end is fenced off with no obvious access points, and nowhere along the road where we can stop and scan it.
18 Jan 1989 - locusts
Later we go up the hill behind the campsite to a rather different habitat. This is open ground with bermuda buttercup, old thistle stems and friars cowl forming the ground cover. Bermuda buttercup is a relative of the wood oxalis, and was introduced from South Africa. It is a smothering plant that has invaded grasslands along the west coast of Iberia. Friars cowl is native, a diminutive relative of the wild arum.
Insects proved to be of great interest, in particular a large green grasshopper that flew past us several times but which we have great difficulty in locating when it landed. Eventually we track it down to within photographic distance and identify it as the solitary phase of the migratory locust. The climate here does not favour development of the migratory phase, and the insect does not reach plague proportions. It is difficult to find on the ground because it dives in behind vegetation and then creeps out to keep an eye on the world from where it is well camouflaged against a leafy background. There are other grasshoppers too, and a few butterflies, particularly the Mediterranean form of the speckled wood, which, at first glance, resembles a wall brown.
Wrens have been conspicuous by their absence for the last couple of weeks, but today we hear them singing from a park in Setubal where there are tall canary palms, and we also hear them from olive groves.
At last we have the van back in working order. It seems the garage was taking advantage of the insurance situation, and making sure they got as much out of the deal as possible. We are just looking forward to a comfortable night.
Insects proved to be of great interest, in particular a large green grasshopper that flew past us several times but which we have great difficulty in locating when it landed. Eventually we track it down to within photographic distance and identify it as the solitary phase of the migratory locust. The climate here does not favour development of the migratory phase, and the insect does not reach plague proportions. It is difficult to find on the ground because it dives in behind vegetation and then creeps out to keep an eye on the world from where it is well camouflaged against a leafy background. There are other grasshoppers too, and a few butterflies, particularly the Mediterranean form of the speckled wood, which, at first glance, resembles a wall brown.
Wrens have been conspicuous by their absence for the last couple of weeks, but today we hear them singing from a park in Setubal where there are tall canary palms, and we also hear them from olive groves.
At last we have the van back in working order. It seems the garage was taking advantage of the insurance situation, and making sure they got as much out of the deal as possible. We are just looking forward to a comfortable night.
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