Imagine waking up to the sound of
golden orioles wolf whistling in the rustling poplars, nightingales stridently
clattering behind screens of billowing ash and the ‘thrip thrip’ calls of
bee-eaters slicing through the calm dawn skies. All of this bathed in golden
sunlight caressing miles of dew-spangling grasslands bejewelled with myriad
wild flowers. Sounds good, doesn't it? In fact almost too good to be true, but
these things happened every morning of our stay in the Kiskunsȃg National Park of central Hungary. There were times when literally the only
things that could be heard were the calls of wild creatures; the chirruping of
crickets, the croaking of frogs and the aforementioned birdsong which provided
pleasant background music all day long. There were seldom any man-made noises
to intrude. But I race ahead of myself and should really begin at the beginning
and recount the events of our week long Honeyguide holiday to this beautiful
area as they unfurled.
Day 1 –
24 May
There were only four participants on
this trip. We rendezvoused at Budapest airport for the pick up by Gábor and
Andrea who would be our hosts, guides and caterers for the duration of our stay.
Unfortunately almost as soon as we loaded our cases into the minibus the
heavens opened to produce a substantial downpour for the duration of our drive
to Kondor Lodge, our base for the week. We did stop once or twice en-route to
look at the architecture of a traditional Hungarian village and to see if we
could spot a few birds, but the rain was never far away and always drove us
back to the sanctuary of our wheeled transport before we had time to see much.
That said, it was heartening to note that a lot of turtle doves were being
flushed from the road as we progressed and there were tantalising glimpses of
red-footed falcons hawking insects over the damp fields. Promises of good
things to come.
Settled into our accommodation and well fed, it was time to have a quick tour
of the lodge grounds in the gathering dusk hoping to catch sight of a nightjar
that occasionally came to the pond to drink. No luck tonight. With the sound of
crickets ringing all around and early moths floating around the grasses we
retired for the night. With nothing but a nightingale breaking the silence I
for one was soon soundly asleep.
Kondor Lodge |
I was wide awake and sitting in the sunken hide by the pond by
Tree Sparrow |
Grass Snake |
Hawfinch |
After that leisurely meal (one virtue
of Honeyguide holidays is the relaxed nature of the activities), we stepped
across the road and entered a lost world; a world of yesteryear invoking
visions of what the countryside at home must once have looked like before the
age of intensive farming. Here in such a
sparsely populated area nature held sway. Everywhere there were rafts of
pastel-coloured wild flowers where butterflies danced from bloom to bloom
supping the abundant nectar. Striding through the knee high sward would
catapult grasshoppers in all directions and every step would disturb a moth
from its daytime roost.
Our walk took us along sandy tracks
where a male red-backed shrike flitted along fence posts and more golden
orioles teased us from every stand of poplars where turtle doves purred their
love song. It wasn't long before we came upon a small group of bee-eaters that
were nesting in holes they had excavated at ground level at the edge of the
track. These burrows seem very exposed and vulnerable, but extend some way
laterally, ensuring the nesting chamber is out of reach of any passing vehicle.
Nonetheless the colony seems most precarious but the birds more than beautiful.
We were able to watch these aerial pirates hawking dragonflies and other flying
insects against a pure azure sky. So colourful, so manoeuvrable and so deadly.
But this is what we had come for: to see wild landscapes and wild creatures we
could no longer encounter at home.
Red-backed Shrike |
Common Blue |
Bee-eater With Norfolk Hawker |
Fritillary Species - Any Help Appreciated |
Presently we arrived at what until
recently would have been the shores of a sizeable lake. Lake Kondor began to
mysteriously empty in 2010 and has not since refilled. Reasons for this
dramatic transformation from open water to open grassland are unclear, but some
disturbance to the fragile geology of the site would seem likely. In any event
where once water birds; terns, herons, wildfowl and reed dwellers abounded and
lone fishermen made a tenuous living, now the gently rolling landscape is home
to jangling corn buntings, hovering kestrels and bright-chested yellow
wagtails, while over all skylarks pour forth their liquid symphony. In the lower
lying areas reed still grows, and here great reed warblers crash out their
grinding notes while marsh harriers float above. Cuckoos call from every stand
of scrub and insects abound. Gábor expressed a fervent hope that one day the
lake would return, but his neighbour regards the newly formed pasture as heaven
sent grazing for his cattle. It is an ill wind.
It dawned on me that being of good
Norfolk stock I felt very much at home in this flatland environment which
reminded me very much of Broadland and the transition zone between the Norfolk
& Suffolk Brecks and the Fenlands. Not totally flat and featureless like
the agricultural Fens around the Wash, but rather a complex tapestry of
differing habitats merging to form a rich mosaic. The soil was very sandy and
most of the grassland areas dry and well drained. But an under layer of
alluvial deposits facilitate the formation of small lakes and reed fringed
channels interspersed with wet woodland or commercial stands of poplar. All rather pleasant, and with organic farm
methods being widely employed wildlife is allowed space to thrive.
Upon completing the loop, we returned
to Kondor Lodge, boarded our minibus and headed out to explore. Our afternoon
turned out to be rather interesting both from a wildlife spotting perspective
and also from a meteorological one. Thunderstorms were looming.
However our first visit was to an area
of Puszta – a local term for large areas of steppe like grasslands – a couple
of kilometres from the lodge. By slowly driving along the sandy tracks we were
able to get very close to a large colony of nesting bee-eaters. These birds
were busy excavating their burrows, courting, mating and generally going about
their business. And we could watch it all by using the minibus as a hide. The
rainbow colours of these excellent birds were seen to stunning effect when
sunlit against the backdrop of brooding storm clouds. It was interesting to
note that the birds were catching dragonflies in numbers, among them good numbers
of Norfolk hawkers. I mentioned this to Gábor who informed us that he too
refers to the insects by that name – evidence, he teased, that English should
never have been adopted as a default world language.
Bee-eater - What a Stunner! |
Can't Get Enough of Them |
Bedraggled Roller |
We did plan to drive around more of
this habitat, but the dark, angry looking clouds were approaching fast. Plan B
kicked in and we returned to the lodge for a cuppa before deciding where best
to resume our trek. This turned out to be a good move since no sooner had we
put cup to lips than the heavens opened to unleash a storm the likes of which
we seldom see – although the last week back here in the UK has run it close. The rain simply
bulleted from the sky for 30 minutes or so. Biscuits helped relieve the
frustration.
Once the initial storm abated we spent
the remainder of the afternoon dodging further storms by the simple expedient
of aiming the minibus at any patch of blue sky. Gábor’s intimate knowledge of
the area gave this strategy focus as he was able to concentrate efforts on the
specialist birds and animals he knew were present. In this way we were able to
obtain glimpses of black woodpeckers, and listen to the songs of both
grasshopper and Savi’s warblers both reeling at the same time. A very
instructive comparison. More importantly we avoided getting wet while all
around torrential rain fell.
Approaching Storm |
Once back at the lodge it was
interesting to note the numbers of moths that had been dislodged from the
thatched roofs by the rain. Several white ermines were now roosting in full
view together with riband wave, yellow shell and several micros I could not
identify. Later that evening another guest produced a dead clearwing species (a
wasp mimic) he had discovered on the nearby track. Evidence, if any was needed,
of the great diversity of life inhabiting this area.
We retired as the shadows of the poplars lowered their curtain on the day. No TV containing scenes of mayhem from around the world to worry us here. In fact not much to do at all, except reflect on the day and sink slowly like the sun into a restful slumber.
I wonder if the degree of lushness you describe ever truly existed here? The vastness of the steppe regions, well watered by unpolluted streams does seem to provoke a yearning for the unspoilt tranquillity you convey so eloquently in your writing. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Interesting point. Maybe not lushness, but diversity and abundance probably. We can debate further tomorrow.
ReplyDelete