If you’re reading this then I’ve successfully managed to contact the outside world. I’m currently in the home of modern day birding – North Norfolk. I say modern, but you can’t even get a decent mobile signal out here. Wi fi is apparently classed as witchcraft, the only Apple you’ll get has pips and smart phones are looked on suspiciously by the locals – apparently six digits on one hand makes them near impossible to use!
This was never planned as a birding trip – more of a long weekend in the rain. However the weather Gods have gone nuts and bathed us in glorious sunshine. So today after a bit of shopping – no Aldi or Netto here we have to go to proper shops – I suggested a walk down the East Bank of Cley Marsh. It turned out to be a walk down memory lane, where I regaled (bored to death more like) Jo and Beth with tales of birding days gone by. Cley looks a bit different these days, from those halcyon times of the 80’s and 90’s, but still has that charm and magical feel. A couple of Spoonbills were almost the highlight of the day, that is until I found a rusty old tin can on the beach and spent the next half-hour throwing stones at it. I swear it was that same tin can, that I threw pebbles at with the Fray’s some 24 years back, though maybe not.
Tomorrow we’ll battle through the army of scopac users at Titchwell and hope to get a glimpse out of the overcrowded posh hides.
If by any chance Rob and Richard are reading this. I spotted that Scouse window cleaner at Salthouse and told the tale of our bollocking, for not answering the phone in Nancy’s – the phone that the lazy twat was sat next to!!
Goodnight all.
Oh and does anyone know who claimed a wood sand on my patch yesterday? Most annoying!!
5 comments:
Hi Mark,
Although you do not know me we have seen each other it was not me who saw the Wood Sandpiper although i did go to look late on that evening after work, typically being employed by the railway i arrived late lol
Mr Reeder
I most certainly remember not answering the phone at Nancy's - there was a Lesser Crested Tern at Mussleburgh and I didn't want to answer the phone at the time as I didn't know how to pronounce Mussleburgh. And the window cleaner was too busy eating bread pudding and cakes and chips and pretending to be more important than us (which obviously he was) to move from his feast to answer the phone. Those were the days.
One of the best holidays of my life: here's some words to conjure with: Great Snipe, chips and ketchup, Sheringham, slags, amusement arcades, Mrs Woman...
Rob. Agree one of my all time favourite trips too. That amazing fall with Wrynecks seemingly under every sueda and a couple of Greenish and Icterines thrown in.
A few other things that remind me of it are: mad woman locked in the shed, Red Witch in the George (the drink not a local), sick in the sink, Morris Ital and True Faith by New Order. Great days :-)
Oh and double bed!!
Anonymous railway worker. Good work with the Wood Sand, shame it didn't stick.
Must be me but I hate Cley... can't stand the fucking place and will do anything to avoid having to go there.
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