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!!
Oh and does anyone know who claimed a wood sand on my patch yesterday? Most annoying!!