THE GAMBIA
Where’s the best destination for a family holiday with plenty of opportunities for birding? The Gambia, the African mainland’s smallest country, provides the ideal introduction to the continent’s birds
The African mainland’s smallest country provides the ideal introduction to the continent’s birds
There can’t be many places where you are provided with your very own, personal bird guide. But at Mandina River Lodges, on a picturesque creek off the mighty River Gambia, that’s exactly what you get. So, on the first morning of our four-night stay, I rose at dawn. Leaving my wife Suzanne and our three children to enjoy a lie-in, I headed out into the Makasutu Forest with AJ.
AJ is one of a host of eagle-eyed bird guides here in The Gambia, and he’s very good at his job. Almost as soon as we left the grounds of the lodge, he spotted one of our main target species: the pheasant-like Green Turaco. Like all members of its family, this bird can be hard to see, as it usually stays hidden in the forest canopy, only occasionally flying from one tree to the next. But this individual was uncharacteristically showy: perching in full view, and showing off its apple-green plumage, red eye-patch and wispy crest. A great start.
It was almost two decades since my last – and until now only – visit to The Gambia – when Suzanne and I came here on our honeymoon. That was my first birding experience in West Africa, and produced a total of more than 200 species, half of which were lifers. So, this early morning walk was like reacquainting myself with some old and valued friends, after far too long a time apart.
As we strolled along the path, tiny Black-billed and Blue-spotted Wood Doves hopped in front of us, while Hooded Vultures began to circle overhead in the warming sunshine. A Palm-nut Vulture – the world’s only (mostly) vegetarian raptor – made a brief appearance, while a familiar sound came from a Rose-ringed Parakeet, a long way from the London parks where I usually see this brash, noisy bird.
As we approached a more open, marshy area close to the river, AJ made a loud call, and received an immediate response from a Blue-breasted Kingfisher. The bird duly appeared, showing off its powder-blue plumage and azure wings, before flying down to the exposed mud to grab its prey. A Shikra – a compact version of our Sparrowhawk – was more circumspect, observing us from his perch in a thorn bush with his piercing bronze eyes, before silently heading away to hunt.
A couple of hours later, we arrived back at the lodge, just in time to meet my family for a leisurely breakfast overlooking the creek. During the heat of the day, we relaxed in the wonderfully shaded pool, yet even here, birds kept appearing. Impossibly slender African Palm Swifts scooted overhead, while White-throated Bee-eaters flew past, and a Pied Kingfisher came down to bathe in the clear blue water. Even with my limited photographic skills, I managed to grab a few stills and a brief video, before this black-and-white vision flew away.
Charlie, George and Daisy are now teenagers, so persuading them to engage with wildlife is a lot trickier than it used to be. Fortunately, Mandina Lodges has no Wi-Fi, so while my suggestion of a late afternoon river cruise was not exactly met with enthusiasm, they did at least agree to come along.
Once we were afloat, though, their interest soon returned. Firstly, they spotted an Osprey, which obligingly did a plunge-dive to catch a fish right in front of our boat. Then we noticed waders feeding on the tidal mudflats: Whimbrels and Common Sandpipers, which I might have seen a month earlier, passing through Somerset.
AJ expertly pointed out mangroves and mudskippers, Green Monkeys and Guinea Baboons, and a host of exciting birds. These included Broad-billed Rollers, elusive White-backed Night Herons, and hawking Swallows – also familiar from home.
As we returned, at dusk, a Giant Kingfisher flew into the window of one of the floating lodges, but luckily seemed to be none the worse for its experience. The next morning, I persuaded Daisy to come on an excursion to nearby Abuko – reputedly the smallest nature reserve in Africa – which was founded by the English birder Eddie Brewer, back in 1968. It may be small, but this tiny patch of forest is a haven for hard-to-see birds, with the added advantage of being much cooler than the surrounding open fields.
I was hoping to catch up with one of the local specialities, the Western Bluebill, a skulking little songbird that rarely shows itself. I have a deserved reputation among my birding friends for not always being able to see a bird, even when it is right in front of me. And true to form, both AJ and Daisy spotted the bluebill before I did. Finally, after what felt like an age (but was probably only a few seconds) I caught sight of this gorgeous, jet-black creature with a crimson breast, whose bright blue beak certainly justifies its name.
Having already seen the world’s largest species of kingfisher – the aptly-named Giant – we then caught up with one of the smallest: a delightfully obliging African Pygmy Kingfisher, which perched perfectly on a branch for me to take photos.
Although the temperature was now becoming unbearably hot, we couldn’t leave without checking out the nearby Lamin Rice Fields. Here, we saw a splendid male Little Bittern, and a Black Heron – which Daisy remembered as the ‘umbrella bird’, from an alphabet book we used to read when she was a little girl.
On our last morning, before we headed to the coast for the rest of our holiday, AJ and I made another early start. We were on a quest to find a large, brightly-coloured, yet painfully shy songbird, the Greyheaded Bristlebill. As often happens with forest-dwelling species, we could hear its song constantly. And yet, despite spending several hours squatting on our haunches to peer through dense foliage, I never even saw it move.
One advantage of looking so carefully, though, is that other tricky species may appear. AJ imitated the two-note call of a Pearl-spotted Owlet, and a lovely male African Golden Oriole emerged into a patch of light, glowing like the midday sun. Then, a subtle movement on the forest floor metamorphosed into three Ahanta Francolins – shy, partridge-like birds that rarely, if ever, venture out in the open. AJ’s incredibly sharp eyes also noticed a small, black snake with pale markings, lying camouflaged in the leaf-litter, which turned out to be a young spitting cobra. A great end to an unforgettable stay at this enchanting and bird-rich location.
We spent the remaining week of the holiday at the luxurious Coco Ocean Resort and Spa, right on the beach, where a cooling breeze was most welcome. There were birds here, too: Abyssinian Roller, various hornbills and a tame (and rather cheeky) Cattle Egret, which foraged on the tables at breakfast.
While Suzanne and the kids enjoyed
relaxing by the pool, I went out for a half-day’s birding with The Gambia’s top guide, Malick Suso. We headed a few miles inland, to Farasuto Forest Community Nature Reserve, where we met Mustapha, a young local guide, who Malick had primed to find some good birds. As we entered the forest, he immediately led us to a pair of roosting Greyish Eagle Owls, staring down at us with an expression of haughty disdain.
Then we headed away from the trees and towards a gravel-pit – making me feel very much at home. Our target bird was a bit more unusual than I’d usually expect in this man-made habitat, though: a pair of beautifully-marked Four-banded Sandgrouse, which we watched briefly on the ground before they flew off, the female giving her soft, trilling call.
Nearby, Northern Red and Black-winged Red bishops, looking like giant crimson bumblebees, courted their drabber mates by leaping into the air. We walked back into the trees, where there was a small pool with an array of bird feeders. Sitting quietly in the shade, we enjoyed an amazing show, as many birds came down to feed, drink and bathe.
First a Spotted Honeyguide, then a Green-headed Sunbird, lavender and Black-rumped Waxbills, and even a Cardinal Woodpecker, followed by a more familiar bird, a Redstart, pumping its fiery tail up and down.
We also tried to pin down a calling Grey-headed Bristlebill, but failed once again. But with so many other great birds to enjoy, it hardly seemed to matter.
On our last full day, I persuaded Suzanne to take a stroll down memory lane, around Kotu Creek, a short drive north of our hotel. This marshy area just behind the coast provided a welcome change from the frustrations of forest birding, as the birds virtually queued up to show themselves.
We saw seven species of heron before breakfast, with one tiny pool packed with egrets, Western Reef and Squacco Herons, and the comical-looking hamerkop, whose head really is the shape of a hammer! Senegal Thick-knees (a dead ringer for our Stone-curlew), Little Bee-eaters and a Yellow-crowned Gonolek – a red, black and yellow member of the shrike family whose plumage resembles the German flag – added to our enjoyment.
We stopped at the Birdwatching Association Information Centre, outside the Sunset Beach Hotel, and chatted to some of local bird guides. If you’re not on an organised birding tour, this is a great place to hire someone reliable and knowledgeable, who can guarantee to show you species you might otherwise miss.
Nearby, we bumped into Malick’s uncle Lamin, who in the late 1980s became The Gambia’s very first birding guide. I asked Lamin if he was proud to have been the driving force behind what is now a thriving wildlife tourism industry, bringing much-needed revenue and jobs to this rapidly-developing country. With typical modesty, he smiled and shook his head, giving credit to the English birder who, when he started out, gave him a book on West African birds of towns and gardens.
For Lamin, Malick and AJ, and the other 70-plus accredited guides in The Gambia, there is a huge satisfaction in showing birds to visitors from Britain and elsewhere. Their clients range from hardcore listers to complete beginners, who, as Lamin told me, “are struck by the amazing birds they see in their hotel gardens, and want to know more!” He is also rightly proud that the government is now using the information provided by these guides to safeguard important bird habitats, which might otherwise be lost.
As we headed home, I reflected on many things. I remembered the joy when, on our honeymoon all those years ago, we came across a wonderful Egyptian Plover – the legendary ‘crocodile bird’ – on an excursion upriver. I recalled the memorable sightings from this latest trip, especially those I shared with my family. And I realised that, even though I have seen most birds this little country has to offer, I must return someday – if only to finally see that damned elusive bristlebill!