Birding in VALENCIA
David Chandler finds a ‘Winter Wonderland’ in eastern Spain…
Why, you might ask, did I fly to Alicante in December? I arrived on the 16th when surely, I should have been at home dusting off the trimmings, plucking the free-range turkey (or a vegetarian alternative), and hurriedly writing those last Christmas cards. Well I wasn’t, and there were some good reasons not to be…
Reason number one: Alpine Accentor
The Alpine Accentor is a close relative of the humble Dunnock (which there was once a move to rename as Hedge Accentor) but is highly sought-after, and I do mean high. Typically, Alpine Accentors breed at altitudes of between 1,800 and 3,000 metres above sea level. In fact, most of the world’s 12 accentor species are mountain birds – the Dunnock is one of the exceptions.
Alpine Accentors breed in some parts of Spain, but we were heading to a traditional wintering site, and our guide had chosen one that wasn’t too tricky to get to. To make our life a bit easier, Alpine Accentors hang out at lower altitudes in the winter months – all they need in these parts is about 1,000m of altitude. Our destination was a
mountain in the west of the Valencia region. We stopped on the way to buy some bird seed – we might need that to feed the accentors.
The climb wasn’t difficult… we sat in the van and our guide (Dave) drove, switchbacking up the mountainside, ascending a mass of ochre sandstone, passing tall heathers and cone-laden conifers. The road became rougher and unsurfaced, more track than road, and the views were big and spectacular. Getting to the top was simple enough, but what about seeing the bird?
This time, that was easy as well.
We didn’t have to wait long – two Alpine Accentors came in to food and they were close, ginger-streaked, stripe-throated, and with conspicuous white spots on black coverts. With our accentor appetite satisfied we looked down – literally, definitely not disdainfully – on a Peregrine having some fun – it’s good to see them from above, then headed back to Chelva, where a Blue Rock Thrush perched on a roofline and a Serin sang from low in a tree. Thank you Dave.
Reason number two: Greater Spotted Eagle
If I saw one of these it would be my first, and if I believed the map in the Collins Guide, it wasn’t going to happen. The map in the book tells me that this red-listed bird breeds a long way to the north-east of Valencia, and doesn’t winter here. Except some do – things change and a guide is only a guide after all. This area is in fact the most reliable part of Spain to see them, during the winter – there may be 10 birds wintering here. I’d be content with a decent view of one of them.
We head to El Hondo, in the south of the
Valencia region, an extensive wetland reserve with two reservoirs – one of 600 hectares, and one of 400. It’s overcast and cool when we arrive. We are met by Carolina, our El Hondo guide, and given VIP treatment – we are taken on to a restricted part of the reserve. But don’t write the experience off as journalist privilege. The area is not completely restricted – if you book in advance, Saturday morning visits are possible.
The most recent census had notched up 200 White-headed Ducks on the reserve, but they weren’t the object of our desire.
Remarkably, there are four Greater Spotted Eagles here, though one of them could be a hybrid – to complicate identification, Greater Spotted sometimes hybridises with Lesser Spotted. The bird in question looks like a Greater Spotted but only has six long ‘fingers’ – primary feathers that is, that project into open sky at the wingtips. And that’s a Lesser Spotted feature – in theory, a Greater Spotted has seven of these.
So, let the raptor-fest begin. Marsh Harrier and Kestrel came first. We saw Otter spraint and two male Red-crested
Pochards and lots of Kingfishers were calling. Then an eagle, with a pale patch at the base of the primaries on the upperwing, flying with heavy wingbeats – flap…glide. Apparently, this is the hybrid. So, if I were a purist lister what would I do with that? Then another one, perched, and this one is ‘pure’ Greater Spotted.
One of the four eagles has been coming here every winter since 2008 – a female called Tonn. She wears a tracking device and does a seasonal commute from Estonia. By now, the sun is cracking open the clouds. We see a perched Booted Eagle with scalloped upperwings, and a Merlin, grey, orange, and low. The cloud cracks widen. There are two more Marsh Harriers, and an Osprey, and we haven’t finished. An open tower gives us a big view of this wild, man-made landscape… Avocet, Black-tailed Godwit, Cetti’s Warbler, Greater Flamingos, Water Rail calling, Great White Egret.
And in a distant skeletal tree, to the right of some palms, sits Tonn. She is dark, with a pale cere. That makes three Greater Spotted Eagles. Or is it two and a half? Before we leave we, have two more GSE encounters – the hybrid again, and a thoroughbred. Thank you, Carolina!
It turns out it was three. When I’m back in the UK I’m told that the Valencia University study group that work on the eagles have concluded that all of the birds are pure Greater Spotted. None of them were hybrids. Sometimes, ID is not straightforward.
Reasons three, four, five… sandgrouse
It’s mid-afternoon when we arrive on the steppe, and it’s bright, cool and still. There are Calandra Larks, a tawny and dark (sounds like a Guinness-based drink) juvenile Spanish Imperial Eagle, Iberian Grey Shrikes and Thekla Larks. But the birds we particularly want to see are bustards and sandgrouse. There’s heat haze, and a Little Owl among the olive trees. A lone Black-bellied Sandgrouse heads off. That’s a start. Then Spotless Starlings. Then a raspy rattle from Lesser Short-toed Larks. Then things go up a gear…
About 40 Pin-tailed Sandgrouse take to the air, quite close, up and away with duck-like calls. There are more on the deck, quite distant, near some discarded tiles and rubble. This is good steppe but not entirely pristine(!). The estimate is 50 ‘Pin-tails’ on the ground, gingery chests contrasting with otherwise white underparts. Feathers are shaken, a wing is raised. After a while the Pin-tails get airborne and it turns out that there are more than 50, perhaps 80 or more. Our final estimate is a total of around 120 Pin-tailed Sandgrouse, and even Pau, our guide, is impressed. Great Bustard eludes us this time, but 120 Pin-tailed Sandgrouse – that’s quite something. Thank you Paul.
MORE INFORMATION
Thanks to Turisme Comunitat Valenciana, Tourspain, Valencia Turisme, Turismo Castellon, and the Hotel Gran Playa Santa Pola for all that they did to make the trip possible.
And thank you to all of our guides from the following organisations – we couldn’t have done it without you: Valencia Birding: valenciabirding.
com, Reigos Levante, Birdwatching Spain: birdwatchingspain.net, and Actio Birding: actiobirding.com and the Association of Birding Guides CV: birdingcv.com