Sicily 8: Catania

Tags

Bellini, Catania, Etna, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, lava tube, Monteverdi, Nievski, Sicily, Siculorum gymnasium, Trattoria de Fiore

Sicily 8: Catania. Suitcases packed, accounts settled, we were off to spend the day in Catania before dispersing.  A last sighting of Etna as we went south.

Francesca had arranged for us to leave our luggage in Catania at a small B and B, The Globetrootter, owned by a friend, for the day, and we set off.

I was thrilled serendipitously at the first place we stopped, a castle built by one of my favourite characters in history, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, 1194-1250, a fascinating, if far from likeable, man.  I had studied him for my ‘A’ levels and he had intrigued me then.  (If you click on the link, skip the history, and go to ‘Personality’, and ‘Literature and Science’.) On my trip to Sicily in 1975 I had paid homage at his tomb in Palermo Cathedral.  This castle was a real bonus for me.

Although we went in, it was just to say hello to the woman running the bookshop, another friend of Francesca.  (We came across many more of them during the day – this was her home city after all, and she was well-known as a television journalist on the island.)

We then went on to the fishmarket, which turned out to be so much more.

Smoking artichokes!

Francesca and a scampo

We had been told about long courgettes!

 

The next two photos will be of interest only to geology enthusiasts, especially since one is not at all clear.  We went through a bar to see a lava tube, a tunnel made by flowing lava as it solidifies on the outside.  As the sign indicates, it formed during the eruption of Etna in 1669.  It’s of particular interest because it now has a stream flowing though it – in the other direction from that of the original lava flow.On to Catania’s cathedral.  I was pleased to see the tomb of Sicily’s famous composer, Bellini, but not nearly as much as I had been to come across that of Monteverdi in Venice some years back.After a stop for refreshments in the cathedral square, we walked on, and passed this.It was communist headquarters, now a popular pub

 

Not a the modern meaning of a gymnasium, but a place of learning. ‘Siculorum’ means ‘of [the] Sicilians’

Lunchtime.  At the Trattoria de Fiore, run (that does not adequately describe the force that she is) for the last 40 plus years by Rosanna, who makes wonderful pasta among other things.  Ordering our meal was an event in itself, especially since Rosanna just loves talking – and she wasn’t the only Sicilian present who has the same predilection…The others all ordered pasta , but I just didn’t feel hungry enough so I ordered antipasti and a light fish dish…

My antipasti!

 

But I should have known that antipasti would be more than sufficient. The sardines to follow were delicious, but I could only manage two of the seven, even though they were small as fresh sardines go.  I managed to persuade others to eat three of those left over, and made copious apologies to Rosanna for not finishing the entire dish.

Here is a blurry picture of someone’s ‘pasta alla norma’, resembling a volcano.We got up from table well after 4 pm!  It was nearly time to get back to the B and B place to pick up our luggage and say goodbye.  But we just had one more visit to make – to what had once been a monastery and was now a university – where Francesca had done her studies.We were able to peek inside the large rooms where lecturers worked – the monks clearly didn’t stint themselves for space back in the days.

And so we said goodbye.  Geoff was off to Syracusa, Francesca, and Alec and Isobel were staying on in Catania for one extra night before returning to the UK the following day, so it was just Emma and I who took a 20-minute bus ride to the airport to await our plane, which would get us to Gatwick at midnight.

Despite my accidents and being off-colour, it had been a lovely week in good and friendly company, with a great variety of themes and activities.  Being a study tour had made it extra interesting.  If there is one which stands out as both unexpected and ultra enjoyable … it was Food!

I  think it is definitely a case of ‘Arrivederci Sicilia’.  I hope so anyway.

Sicily 4: Mount Etna

Tags

Betula Aetnensis, Etna, Etna Birch, Mount Etna, Sicily, volcano

Sicily 4: Mount Etna.  When I had visited Sicily in 1975, for me the most exciting discovery, of all the amazing discoveries on the tour of the whole island, had been Mount Etna.  Our visit to it had taken place on a grey day, but that hadn’t mattered at all.  Up first in a jeep, then a funicular, and then a little way on foot to be almost within touching distance of a slow, glowing, tinkling, crinkly, lava flow, from which we could feel the warmth.  I recall that, in those days when you took just one photo of a given area and that was that, because of film and processing costs, I used a whole 36-image film just on that lava flow, so excited was I by it all.  And I came home and bought a book on how volcanoes work.  (Soon afterwards, that particular funicular was destroyed by a further eruption.) Since then I have done an Open University module on geology, a significant part of which was on volcanoes.  So my hopes this day were high.

Nathalie, presumably a self-employed guide, took us in her people carrier. Up and up and up we went,

and we stopped to look at a road which was distinctly no longer a Z-bend.

Then we moved on and up to about 2500 metres, to the north, less tourist-frequented side of the volcano.  Pictures of devastation and desolation.

The white gas is water vapour, the blue sulphur dioxide

Geoff surveys where a hotel used to be

This was the highest we got.  Apparently it is possible to go further up in a funicular, and then further on foot, to get much closer (but not too close!) to where the action is, but that had not been the intention for our particular group.  So I was a little sad.

Francesca looking on.

We moved round and a little lower down by car, and were introduced to Etna birch, Betula Aetnensis, found only on Etna, its peculiarity being that, unlike other birches, it has multiple trunks coming from the ground. (Virtually nothing on it is to be found via search engines on the internet.)  We started off on a walk towards a spectacular view.  Unfortunately my ankle did not at all enjoy the terrain – small broken up lava – on which we were walking, re-twisting itself frequently.  I found a nice Etna birch on which to perch, and Francesca kindly decided to stay with me, stating she had done Etna a thousand times.  I have to say it was really rather pleasant sitting there in the sun, though I didn’t fancy stretching out on the ground as Francesca did.  She insisted on taking a photo of me with Etna in the background,

then a close-up on the grounds that I had a ladybird in my hair

which I couldn’t see in the photo until I blew it up…

Finally we went on to a refuge/bar where we had a drink – of course – and watched some videos of Etna erupting, and looked at a map. 

I took a panorama from that spot.

Lunch, described in the next post, consisted of a wine tasting and antipasti a few kilometres away…

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge

Tags

Alcanatara, Alcantara Gorge, Alcantara River, Castiglione, colubro, Etna, Etna Discovery, Gole d'Alcantara, tadpole

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge. This morning, Friday 14th April, was billed as a nature trail, which I think gave some of us the idea that we were in for a gentle stroll.  We did not imagine that we would be climbing up and down a gorge!

Claudio, of Etna Discovery, was our guide along the three areas of the Alcantara (stress on the second syllable) Gorge. Very knowledgeable he was too, and his strong arms at tricky passages were also most welcome.  He took us first down a shady path to a viewpoint over a particularly narrow part of the gorge.

Showing the basalt columns through which the river has worn its way

 

Then back up and along a top path to a stretch which gave an impression of a wider part of the Alcantara river valley.

This and other frogs were in a puddle in the wide path.  Most however buried themselves in the fine mud at our approach

Return to the vehicle and then down to a spot where we were able to access the river floor.

 

A rapidly shrinking pool at the side of the gorge. These tadpoles would be doomed even without the fact that a young snake has discovered them

One gorged colubro snake (about 18 inches, 45 cm, long). Ibelieve that the English name is the smooth snake.

Geoff, Claudio, Emma, Alec, Isobel and Francesca, as we emerged once more at the top of the Gorge

 

Finally, after a debate as to how we might best use the rest of our time, Claudio drove us some way away to another spot, where a quite lengthy rising walk took us to further views of the river upstream – to find that others had got there before us.

 

Distant view, much zoomed, of Castiglione, where we were find ourselves that evening for the procession

 

Hints of Mount Etna, and its vapours, in the distance

Views upstream…

… and downstream, from a footbridge

A better view of Etna snatched on the drive back to the agriturismo (a farm used partly for tourism purposes)

 

Unfortunately on the way back down to the vehicle, I stumbled on a stone, and twisted my right ankle rather nastily.  This meant that for the rest of the holiday I was having to walk very gingerly, especially where the surface was not totally flat, and when turning corners, though this didn’t prevent me from joining in any of the activities. (Dancing was not on the menu.)

Madeira 8

Tags

Funchal, Kapok fruit, Lonely Planet, Maeira, Monarch butterfly, Museu de Arte Sacra, Quinta das Cruzes, sperm whale, VMT Madeira catamaran, whale breaching, Zarco

Madeira 8. Plans were for culture in the morning and a boat trip in the afternoon. Slightly thwarted before lunch, and a huge (literally!) bonus in the afternoon. I was intending to go to the Museum of Sacred Art in the morning.  A short walk took me to the Plaça do Municipio.

(The city hall is the lower building on the right).

And I arrived a few minutes before 10.00 when, according to my guide book, the museum was due to open.

It didn’t.  I was astonished at this fundamental error in the book, and sat on a bench nearby to study what I could do instead.  After a few minutes, a couple arrived, looked at the opening times, studied their guide book, and looked puzzled.  I saw them later – they had decided the same as I had for an alternative, the Quinta das Cruzes museum, which was originally the home of Joâo Gonçalves Zarco, the Portuguese captain who ‘discovered’ Madeira.  It promised to be filled with priceless antiques from all over the globe.

This had involved a steep climb.  If you go south to north in Funchal that is inevitable, and there are limits on what you can do by just strolling east-west.  When I got there, the receptionist told me that the sacred art museum used to open on Sunday mornings until recently, (so you are forgiven Lonely Planet).  She also told me that today this museum was free.  What she didn’t tell was was that only the ground floor was open.  But I did see some priceless antiques.

And then wandered around the garden, not taking many photos.

After much needed refreshment at a nearby café, I wandered back down north to south, aiming for the municipal gardens where I had had my first meal six days previously. But first I went to right to the seafront to book my passage for the afternoon.  Again I took not many pictures in the garden.

I’d seen a kapok tree in flower earlier in the week This is one in fruit.

I took time over my lunch, and rejoiced in seeing at a great distance a gorgeous butterfly I didn’t recognise, on the extreme leaf of this tree.

It was only on arriving home that I was able to identify it.  A Monarch!  That’s the butterfly that in its thousands flies all those thousands of miles between, say, Canada and Mexico each year.  I didn’t know that it was found outside North America!  Wow!

In due course, it was time to join my fellow passengers for the boat trip.But no, I didn’t go on this ship in the event.  A little bird in the group had alleged to me (I’d better be careful) that it had not passed all of its latest safety tests.  I was already tempted to go on the whale- and dolphin-watching catamaran trip, (run by VMT Catamaran) and that decided me.  How glad I am that I did, for reasons that will becomes apparent!

There were only about 15 passengers, and a crew of four, which made moving around very easy.  Very good commentary in (always first and quite right too!) Portuguese, and then English.

It was this sort of boat, looked identical to me.

We set off eastwards, on water that was very blue because very deep. The island of Madeira being only the protruding top of a volcanic complex that is six kilometres high, the land falls off immediately to the depths at the water’s edge.

After a short while the sails went up. First the mainsail,

and then the jib. (I think it’s that).

And then they came down again.

We were into the serious business of watching whales and needed the manoeuvrability that the engine would give. No dolphins, but Sperm whales!  A first for me.  Some were fairly close. I took literally hundreds of photos, and many would say that these selected results are not that wonderful if so.  But the fact is that whales stay largely below the water surface, and are not easy to capture on ‘film’!

First sighting

and the obligatory…

 

… disappearing tail flukes

The head is one-third of the length of the sperm whale, and contains, in a space the size of a small car, the very valuable spermaceti, oil so sought after by the whalers.  Sperm whales are now of course protected.

Not a small fin but a very large vertebra

 

Blowing

I reckon we must have seen and sailed alongside about five different whales before I thought I saw at a great distance, on the other side of the boat, the characteristic splash of a whale that had just breached – that is, completely jumped out of the water.  I just couldn’t be sure of my identification, so I kept my mouth shut and my eyes peeled, and did indeed see the whole action, once or twice, by which time the crew had seen it too. (I hadn’t liked to draw attention to the initial splash for fear of being proved a fool, though I am quite used to trying to spot distant cetaceans.)

And – poor things, but mine own – I managed to get these photos!

Once we had sailed on – the time you can stay by a group of whales is limited, in function of the number of boats there are around, and there were two today of course – I had to share my excitement at my pictures.  The main commentator insisted I show them to firstly the captain, and then to the professional photographer on board.  Then a young German couple asked me to email them to them in due course.  And bought me a drink.

We sailed on further eastwards and I got this very zoomed shot of the airport runway extension. Tomorrow!On the way back westwards, this half volcano tip was pointed out to us, the rest eroded by the sea.

Setting off for her next destination.

Late afternoon views of the coast, around Funchal,

To the west

To the east

 

And we arrived back just a smidgeon too early to get the perfect sunset shot.

What a fantastic end to a most enjoyable week.  Madeira may be a little too built up for my liking, but I think I have been spoilt previously by some far-off wildlife holidays where there are no buildings or any signs of humans for tens of miles at a time.  I see that one of my favourite holiday companies does three consecutive and different trips here in June each year.  It is certainly my hope to return to Madeira in the fairly near future, and may well do one of even two of those trips. I’d really love to go back.

Madeira 3

Tags

Cabo Girao, Camara de Lobos, Columbus, Encumeada Pass, Funchal, Madeira, Porto Moniz, Ribeira Brava, Santa, Santa Maria, Sao Vicente, Seixal

Madeira 3. Wednesday 16th November. Today we had a great tour of the west of the island, starting at what we were promised would be the beautiful fishing village of Câmara de Lobos, a few kilometres to the west of Funchal.

I have to say, I was a little disappointed.  For me, pretty fishing villages nestle, huddled at the bottom of their cliff, estuary, or whatever. This didn’t.  It spread way up the mountain, most of it with modern houses, with their obligatory red roofs.  (An obligation placed, all over the island,  by the government.  But, as I learned later, planning restrictions on where to build were only brought in in 2000.)  Where there weren’t houses, there were banana plantations.

I wandered around a little,

and then moved away from the harbour, to find I was being spied upon.

Further along the coast to the west was Ribeira Brava.

Madeira has little wildlife, so I was pleased to see this, and several other ducks

Then there was a long drive to the northernmost tip of the island, via Santa, to Porto Moniz,

known for its natural lava rock pools.

though it appears that Elfin Safety have had a go at them.

Lumps of lava were everywhere

On via Seixal to Sâo Vicente for lunch – in a circular restaurant which we discovered was rotating very slowly. I learnt this through my bag twice disappearing from the low window ledge by my side where I had put it, to be found beside another customer. No-one had noticed that the view outside had changed!

A little wander around the village afterwards.

The bird of paradise is everywhere

Pavements were mostly of the volcanic material around, older ones like this one being of basalt pebbles long ago taken from the beach. Very attractive they were too.

There followed  a drive right over the top of the island, via the Encumeada Pass.

From here we were driven nearly back to Câmara de Lobos, to the highest cliff in Europe*, the second highest in the world, Cabo Girâo.  Where a surprise awaited some.  You could look down the 580 metres through your feet!

Or, over the balcony, standing on the glass.

Eastwards to Funchal

 

I was interested to see this (using my zoom!), a replica of  Columbus’s Santa Maria, especially as I was thinking of going on it on the final day.

Back to the capital, which contains more than a third of the island’s population. I had to call in on the pharmacy near my hotel at the end of the day, and was delighted to see this:

*Though Madeira is on a latitude with and rather nearer to Africa than to mainland Europe.

Madeira 2

Tags

Botanical gardens, cycad, D'Oliveiras, Dragon tree, Embrodery, Funchal, kapok tree, Mdeira, paradise bird flower, supermoon, umbrella tree

Madeira 2. From the market, we moved on to a hand embroidery manufactory, where we saw the detailed processes behind the production of the beautiful goods, and many of the goods themselves.

There are many stages.  Firstly the pieces are designed.

Then each design is pricked through. and on to two more copies of the tracing paper, so that three copies of each design are made. One of these is then inked, the ink being transferred on to the cloth.

After it has been embroidered the piece is beautifully ironed.

Sadly the days of the factory are surely numbered. Not only are the prices of the goods prohibitively expensive, given the work that has gone into them, but the workers are ageing and not being replaced.  I saw only one sale from our party – I do hope that the factory was given a decent fee for the visit it had just allowed us.  Just looking at the finished pieces in the shop was a real treat.

En route to our next stop, a church typically built in basalt

 

The morning ended with a trip to D’Oliveiras, Wine Growers and Exporters, where we each could  – and most did – partake of a small glass of each of three types of Madeira wine, and yes, I bought a bottle (medium dry, 5 year). And to go with it a small bolo de mel de cana da Madeira, a traditional sugar cane syrup cake, sweet, rich and spicy, which they have traditionally at Christmas.  It is as different as you can imagine from what we call madeira cake.  And it must be broken, not cut.  (No worries here about the enterprise breaking even from our visit!)

The lady in blue is not the elegant Madeiran tour guide Lina, but our English tour manager, Sue.

 

After lunch we were taken to the Funchal botanical gardens.  I’m not sure why, but we were obliged to stay together as a group, and I am fairly sure that we did not see all of the gardens.  Our local guide, Lina, was very learned on her plants, especially trees, and there were not many labels, but it was a shame that we were not ‘allowed’ to explore on our own.

Throughout the week,  it was fascinating, and enjoyable, to see plants in the open air that we think of as house plants. Few are truly native to Madeira. (Indeed, what can be considered native, given that the island  is only 7 million years old, a babe in geological terms?!)  In no order, other than that in which I took them, are my photos of the afternoon.

Dragon tree

This viaduct is just one example of the huge amount of infrastructure that the Madeiran government has commissioned in the last 30 years – leaving it now 6 billion euros in debt.

Evidence of the horrendous fires that raged in August, killing four people and destroying 37 houses and a boutique hotel.  A young man is currently on remand to be tried for arson.

This flower is indeed native to Madeira, but I can’t remember its name.

The words are a tribute to the engineer of the gardens, who died earlier this year.

A native of South Africa, the paradise bird flower is Madeira’s ‘national’ flower.

A cycad, not a tree fern.

Kapok tree in flower

Umbrella tree

 

The night before had been that of the best ‘supermoon’, and I had been hoping to get a photo of it with a Madeiran flavour.  Unfortunately the sky was covered with thick cloud on Monday night.  So I went up to the hotel’s roof terrace after dinner on this day, Tuesday 15th, and managed to get these pictures, for what they are worth.

Madeira 1

Tags

Empress of Austria, espada, Funchal, Funchal Cathedral, Lonely Planet, Madeira, Madeira Experience, Parque de Santa Calatina, Rinaldo, Sé, scabbard fish, Sissi, tourism

Madeira 1.  Many months ago, I believed, rightly,  I would be in need of a shortish break in the gloomy month of November, involving not too much travel, and not too much organisation. I  couldn’t find a wildlife holiday to suit, but when I saw advertised a week’s ‘package’ in Madeira, flying from  Bristol, I decided to go for it.

An early start on Monday, 14th November, meant I was on the island by 10.30 a.m. and at my hotel shortly afterwards. A galao (milky coffee) and a pastel de nata (a delicious custard tart – I had four more during the week) later, and time spent in the hotel’s lounge with my guidebooks, filled the time in nicely before my room was ready by 1.00 p.m., and I soon set off with the rest of the day to myself. The BBC weather forecast had said that the Monday and Tuesday would be showery, and the rest of the week fine.  It was wrong only about the Tuesday – that turned out to be fine too.

Monday, yes, I was dodging showers, but it was warm, and I enjoyed exploring downtown Funchal, the capital of the island, which is an autonomous region of Portugal. I  started with lunch, a sardine salad, taken in the café of the small municipal gardens. With my umbrella up in my left hand.  I then made my way, recommended by my Lonely Planet guidebook, to the Madeira Experience, a showing in English of a 30-minute film about the history of the island, and an excellent start it made to my week.

Funchal is on the south coast of this volcanic island, 57 kilometres (35 miles) long and 22 (14) wide, and from the Experience is was only a few metres to the sea front. My first picture was taken (between the showers) looking to the east.

Looking sea-wards, I was reminded that it is an incredibly popular cruise destination.  While the population of the island is some 280,000, we were informed that over a million visitors come to stay on the island each year, and a further half million visit it from the cruise liners.  It has to be said that given the sort of holiday I was on, it was impossible to escape the fact that for 200 years, tourism has been the island’s main industry.

These were gone the following evening

 

I walked on westwards, past a statue of someone called Christian Rinaldo – some sporting character who is apparently Madeira’s main claim to fame – and I’m sorry but my photo of the statue came out blurred.  No, I’m not sorry.  Moreover it was next to a museum dedicated to his story, run by his sister. Oh, and they’re about to rename the airport after him…

Anyway, I turned inland, which inevitably meant climbing – the island of Madeira is just the top of the 6 km high volcanic complex – and I made my way past the governor’s residence into the Parque de Santa Catalina.

Sissi, the Empress of Austria, who loved to visit Madeira

Back along a shopping street, and a very welcome sit-down for a coffee, before going into the modest 16th-century Cathedral, called just Sé,

 

the principal interests of which are its carved cedar ceiling, inlaid with shell, rope and  white clay, and the main altar.

That was enough exploring for one day, which had started at 3.30 a.m. (no time change, indeed Madeira is well to the west of the UK, due south of Iceland in fact).

The following day, Tuesday, I met up with the other members of the group, a coachload of some 24, picked up from our four various hotels, the others all being well away from the old centre. The morning was to be spent exploring Funchal itself, with an emphasis on traditional Madeiran trade activities.  We started at the Mercado dos Lavradores, and very colourful this market was.

This was at the entrance, and indeed all over  Madeira was to be found lovely ceramic tiling.

I bought just the bag I needed for the week here. It proved ideal and cost only €15.

Black scabbard fish. Looks revolting and tastes delicious.

 

As we were to see, hand embroidery is an old tradition in Madeira, but this merchandise will have been machine made and imported.

Upstairs, the traders pestered in a way that those downstairs hadn’t.  Perhaps it was because they were selling  items that tourists could more easily transport – dried fruits and herbs, beautifully presented, just as the fresh food was.  Indeed, but for the pestering I might have bought some of the former, but I was only to pleased to scuttle downstairs again.

 

The thought of all those chillies…

(To be continued…)

 

Return to Aigas 6

Tags

Aigas House, Aigas Quarry, bog bean, bog cotton, common frog, four spotted chaser, Glen Affric, Glen Cannich, Glen Strathfarrar, golden retriever, Lord Tweedmouth, oystercatcher, Plodda Falls, red deer, sandpiper, spotted heath orchid, stonechat

Tuesday dawned sunny and bright, and so it continued until mid-morning. (But that was it for the week.)  Today was spent going up and down Glen Cannich and Glen Affric.

Four spotted chaser dragonfly

Bog bean

Bog cotton

Spotted heath orchid

The sun abandoned us at this point.

Common sandpiper

We saw enormous numbers of red deer today, sometimes in huge herds.

Stonechat

Oystercatcher

Lunch was spent in a howling and rainy gale, (and in my case inside our vehicle!) so I couldn’t get any decent shots of the dam where we had it. Fortunately the wind and rain dropped at about the time we were to set off again. On the way to Plodda Falls we saw this curiosity, a tribute to the man who ‘invented’ the golden retriever.

The Falls were not for those with vertigo!

Just to be clear, we are looking down from the platform at this point

Then we walked about halfway down,  and I took this…

… and this.

But I wanted to take the lot, so I set my camera to panoramic.  But it will only do vertical or horizontal, so I had to twist my head and take a skewed vertical picture, if you see what I mean.

On the way back to Aigas House, we called in on Aigas Quarry, hoping to see a peregrine falcon’s nest.  We didn’t, but I was able to enjoy the geology and some more wild flowers.  The stone is micaceous schist, and was used for building one of the many hydro-electricity dams along the glen. (Did you know that a glen is a valley formed by river action and a strath is a valley formed by glacier action?  I didn’t either.  Glen Strathfarrar clearly has a problem with its identity!)

Someone came across this tiny frog, barely an inch (2.5 cm) long.

(It will be a couple of days or so before the remaining two posts in this series appear.)

Return to Aigas 4

Tags

barnacle goose, bottlenose dolphin, common gull, cormorant, Ctomarty, dolphin, guillemot, lapwing, mallard, Moray Firth, oystercatcher, RSPB

Early afternoon on the Monday, we arrived at Cromarty to see this:

Something to do with oil

A bit of a comedown after the beauty of the Highlands we’d been in for two days.  But we were soon kitted out in heavy waterproofs, and moved to our boat.

An excellent design, giving stability when you stand up. Wouldn’t want to sit that way for longer than the couple of hours we did though.

Out into the Moray Firth, to see dolphins and sea birds.

Guillemots in the background

I’ve not cropped out the fingers, to show how close to the boat the dolphins came.

Cormorants and guillemots

I was pleased to catch a bottlenose dolphin’s face.

The tail end of a jump

I like a nice bit of geology

Common gulls

Three dolphins being playful near the boat

World War II fortifications

 

We thought this flight was of barnacle geese.

We were all very happy bunnies afterwards.

Venetia, Margaret (whose knowledge of birds was extraordinary), Alan, Margaret, Karen, Judy, Elisabeth, Joyce

To finish off the afternoon, we drove to an RSPB reserve at Udale Bay.

Common gulls

 

Oystercatcher, lapwing, mallard

Return to Aigas 1

Tags

Aigas, bog plant, Inverness-shire, oystercatcher, red deer, song thrush, Strathfarrar

Ever since October 2104, when I had done a photography course, far too high-powered for me, at the Aigas Field Studies Centre in Inverness-shire, I had wanted to return there to do one of their basic wildlife courses.  I succeeded in doing so last week, and was not disappointed – apart from the weather for which, soft Southerner that I am, I was stupidly ill-equipped.  I hadn’t realised that up there if it isn’t raining they reckon it’s fine.  When out in the field I was cold, expecially for the second part of the week, but I’ll try not to go on about that too much in this series of blogs, because otherwise I had a great time, with some lovely fellow wildlife enthusiasts.

Sunday morning was spent in Glen Strathfarrar.  Much of it was pretty boggy, and acidic.

Wherever we went, there were masses of wild flowers, pretty small most of them but oh so pretty.  Some of my companions took their identification very seriously.  I just enjoyed looking at them. If anyone wishes to tell me any names, I will add them and credit the source!

Bog cotton.  This was everywhere, all week, and very pretty it was too.

Those were all taken at our first stop.  Our second stop also had its boggy plants…

… though it paid to look around as well.  And the sun’s come out for a few minutes.

Our third stopping place was less boggy, but had a great view at the end of a loch, and was a little more lively as far as wildlife was concerned.

The first of many troops of wild red deer we saw in the week, not to mention those being farmed.

Song thrush

Oyster catcher and cuckoo

The remains of the winter’s snow

Two cuckoos and two oystercatchers

Back for an excellent buffet lunch, looking forward to the afternoon’s activities.