A seawatch at Rubha Reidh

Rubha Reidh lighthouse is north of Gairloch and can be a good place for a seawatch, but today it was quite slow going.

A journey around Inverpolly

A day of touring and sightseeing today, but very few birds to see. Still, the scenery alone makes it all worthwhile. I spent most of the day around Inverpolly, the mountainous area just north of Ullapool. To start though, one of my favourite mountains, An Teallach.

Clinching the Pacific diver at Caolas beag

I'm not sure that it needed clinching, but I needed more views to be certain in my mind. The problem was, on Saturday I'd seen the Pacific diver and it was perfect. Small size, dark flanks, grey cheeks and small fine bill. It was so different to the accompanying black-throated divers that it looked more like a grebe than a diver. I was completely happy that I was watching a Pacific diver, though I didn't see the chin strap or the vent strap. 

However, then I went back on Sunday and saw what I thought at first was the same bird, but the jizz didn't seem right. Features that had looked so good on Saturday now looked uncertain or even wrong, and it was especially missing the grebe like appearance. Then it rolled onto it's side..... no vent strap. At this point I should say that I was watching the bird at 750m distance, so picking up on jizz is difficult as are small plumage details and things like bill size. But if it was a Pacific diver I should have been able to see the vent strap. 

Then there was a further complication which clouded my judgement. Up until this point everybody had told me that the Pacific diver was currently the only winter plumage diver in this area, and as if to confirm this, all of the black-throated divers I had seen so far were in summer plumage. I was still convinced that I had seen the correct bird on Saturday, but Sundays bird looked like a black-throated to me. Had I got it wrong on Saturday? Was I wrong on Sunday? Or where there actually two birds? I needed more views or I would forever doubt myself.

With a whale watching trip booked for this afternoon leaving me with a free morning, it seemed like a good opportunity to head back to Big Sand and make the most of the flat calm conditions to hopefully get better views of the Pacific diver. Instead of wasting time at the burn mouth near the campsite at Sands, which is simply too far away, I headed immediately along the rocky shore to a headland about a 1.5km to the north west and scanned from there. 

It took me a while to find the flock of 17 black-throated divers because they were close to the island well over 1.5km away, but soon they drifted my way. Almost immediately I spotted a winter plumage diver with them and excitedly took some video, but no matter how hard I tried, it still didn't seem right and after watching for a while I could only conclude that it was an adult winter black-throated. It just wasn't a Pacific diver.

Photo: Pacific diver. Note the rounded head shape,
small bill, grey cheeks & complete chin strap.

This was crushing and I was at the point of giving up, slightly depressed because this now left my Saturday sighting in tatters. I must have made a mistake, I was no longer convinced that I had seen the Pacific diver at any time, and frankly I was even beginning to doubt that there had ever been one at Caolas beag. After all, hadn't I been told that there was only one winter plumage diver here? I had one last scan over the sea.

Amazingly within a minute I picked up a second winter plumage diver and knew instantly that it was the Pacific. It's whole jizz was so different. It was a long way out, probably 1km, but it was with a summer plumage black-throated and the difference was stark. This was no indecisive "is it or isn't it?" moment, this was a slap-bang in the face "That's it!" moment. I did a little dance on the spot, but thankfully there was nobody to see, just a few bemused and slightly nervous sheep.

Tales from a bait ball

A bait ball in the ocean is the name given to a tight, spherical group of small fish or other small creatures that swim together for protection when threatened by predators. It's a bit like starlings swirling around when they come into roost. By packing close together into a ball, thousands of animals act as one large shape to confuse attackers and protect individuals on the inside. 

Hundreds of guillemots and razorbills dive deep into the water creating bait balls and driving them to the surface. Eventually the fish have nowhere to go and will leap clear of the water to avoid their pursuers. This attracts other birds which either can't dive or can't go as deep as the auks such as gannets, kittiwakes, shearwaters and petrels. These in turn attract other predators such as skuas. There can be hundreds or even thousands of birds feeding in the vicinity of a bait ball and these are known as feeding frenzies which can been seen from quite a distance.

Unsurprisingly, cetaceans are also attracted to bait balls, so if we see a feeding frenzy it's always worth watching for a while because whales often surface in the middle of them. A couple of years ago I watched in awe as humpback whales drove North Atlantic Krill to the surface (opens in a new window) and created a massive orange pink bait ball which eventually also attempted to leap clear of the water.  

This afternoon I was out again on the Minch with Steve Truluck and Hebridean Whale Cruises. We headed from Gairloch towards Kilt Rock on Skye and there were feeding frenzies everywhere.

The sea looks like it's bubbling as all the fish come to the surface. The auks form rings around them but the kittwakes just crash in and grab what they can!

Great shearwater at a bait ball

The highlight of todays whale watching trip, apart from the bait balls themselves, was this wonderful great shearwater that was feeding in amongst the feeding frenzy of mainly kittiwakes and auks. I took lots of photos of the bird and rather than overwhelm the post about bait balls, I thought that this bird deserved a post all of its own.

Sabine's gull at a bait ball

I was thrilled to pick out a juvenile Sabine's gulls in amongst all of the kittiwakes at one of the bait balls.

What a sight! A Sabine's gull at a bait ball in the Minch with the mountains of Skye behind. Does it get any better? Not until a great shearwater appears.....

Mellon Udrigle

I spent a few hours today watching the sea from a headland at Mellon Udrigle. It looks out it looks out across the Ullapool to Stornoway ferry route to the Summer Isles and Inverpolly so in theory should be a good vantage point, but today there were no cetacean and the best birds were a couple of Bonxies. Oh well, it's hard to complain when you're in this kind of scenery.

An Tealllach from Mellon Udrigle.

Memories of the North West Highlands

Seeing as I'm up here in North West Scotland and at the moment it's pouring down, it seems a good moment to repost some memories from 1979, to remind myself why I appreciate the rain!

In early 1979, my Dad suggested to me that during the summer we should visit North West Scotland. Specifically he wanted to see the Inverpolly region of Sutherland and Wester Ross, but also wanted to re-visit the Central Highland region of Speyside, which he had previously experienced in the mid-1950’s. During that earlier visit, he also spent time on the west coast at Loch Carron.

We were both birdwatchers, though my interest had waned somewhat during my mid-teens, and by 1979 it was only just being re-kindled. My Dad’s inspiration came from, as usual, a book entitled “Where to watch Birds in Britain and Ireland” by John Gooders, and also I suppose from his memories of his previous visit.

On that occasion he had travelled to Aviemore by train (he worked on the railways so it was his best option), spent a few days there, and then continued to Kyle of Lochalsh, before taking to his bicycle and staying in a guesthouse at Loch Carron. At Kyle of Lochalsh he took the short ferry journey to Kyleakin and spent a few hours on Skye, but didn’t venture more than a mile or so on the island.

It’s difficult to imagine now what it must have been like for him in the 1950’s. Communications were almost non-existent by modern day standards, no mobile phones, no Internet and no email. Very few homes would have had their own telephone, and public telephones would have been very sparse, especially in such a remote region. Many homes would not have owned a television, and would rely on radio for their news and entertainment.

Tourism in Scotland would have been very much in its infancy, and there would have been very few guesthouses, and probably no holiday homes. At that time, locals were locals, and not wealthy outsiders. They were very religious people who would have lived in their villages and cottages for generations, and not simply people who had retired there or were retreating from the ‘rat race’.

Many people probably could not afford to, and probably had no desire to travel very far. Distances were vast by British standards, with sometimes 10 miles or more between houses outside of the towns and with very few people owning cars, they would have had very little contact with people from the outside World. Combined with a limited experience of television, they would know very little about life outside the Highlands.

The railways had of course brought a glimpse of the 20th Century to these remote places, and towns such as Aviemore and Kyle of Lochalsh would have undoubtedly prospered and grown as a result, but away from these oases, life would have continued very much as it had done for generations.

To my Dad, it must have seemed like he was travelling almost to the edge of civilisation, a journey into a great wilderness. There were no television documentaries to show him what to expect, and no glossy magazines with trip reports and full spread photos. His knowledge of the region would have been based almost entirely on what he read in books and had seen on maps, and he would probably have not seen more than a handful of black and white photographs of the area.

At that time, most working class people did not travel very far, so by travelling from Liverpool to the Highlands of Scotland he was probably considered an oddity, both by those he was leaving behind and by the people he was visiting. In the mid 1950’s, most Liverpudlians considered a week across the water in New Brighton to be an extravagant holiday.

So why did he do it? Why did he go? Well I guess he was always an oddity. In the years immediately following his discharge from the Royal Navy at the end of the Second World War, he spent many weekends walking and cycling in the mountains of North Wales, spurred on by his books. His favourite area was the Clwydian Mountains around Mold, and he would often take the ferry from Liverpool to Birkenhead, and then cycle into Wales.

At the same time, his interest in bird watching grew, inspired by local naturalist Eric Hardy, who wrote a weekly wildlife column in the Liverpool newspaper, the Daily Post, and by the books and paintings of Peter Scott, whom he considered a kindred spirit, due to them both spending time in the Mediterranean during the War on Motor Torpedo Boats (MTB’s). He became a regular visitor to the Wirral coast, at Heswall, Thurstaston, Hoylake and of course Hilbre.

Finally of course, he had the opportunity to travel. He worked on the railways before the War, and continued his career with them after it. He was used to travelling by train, and his journey to Aviemore and beyond would have been free to an employee of the railways. The journey was longer, but travelling by train and bicycle, the cost would have been little more than a couple of weekends away in Wales.

He told me tales of his visit, of locals peering from behind curtains on Sunday morning, amazed that he was venturing out on the day of prayer, and of the birds that he saw. Golden Eagle, Ptarmigan, Greenshank and Crested Tits in places with evocative sounding names such as Rothiemurchus Forest and the Lhairig Ghru. I still find it amazing that back in the mid 1950’s, a working class scouse lad in his mid twenties, from Solon Street, Edge Hill was watching Ptarmigan, alone, below the mighty cliffs of Beinn MacDui, Britain’s second highest Mountain, 10 miles from the nearest house, while most of his mates were buying “Kiss Me Quick” hats in New Brighton, Southport or Blackpool.

Our goal in 1979 was to see summer plumaged divers on their breeding lochs, and in Speyside we hoped to pick up a few speciality species such as Crested Tit.

I can’t remember exactly what my reaction was when he suggested visiting Wester Ross and Sutherland, but I agreed almost immediately. At the time I was not so obsessed with bird watching that I was desperate to see any particular species of bird, I just saw what I saw and didn’t worry about the rest. However, divers were different. I was probably inspired by the Arthur Ramson book “Great Northern!”, which I had read during my school days, and which tells the tale of a group of youngsters who travel by boat to the North West Coast of Scotland, discover the nest of a Great Northern Diver, and set about protecting it from egg collectors. Divers have a primitive, almost prehistoric feel about them, and have always been amongst my favourite birds.

Finally, I had an interest in mountain walking, having previously walked in the Lake District with my Dad. Even so, at 17 I was approaching a time in my life when most people are more interested in the opposite sex and socialising, rather than spending a week away with their Dad, especially to such a remote area, so I guess I was something of an oddity myself.

We decided to go for six days in July 1979. We chose July, because at the time I was working in a factory, and was committed to taking the last two weeks in July as holiday. Based on my Dad’s memories of the place, we were expecting to rough it a bit and didn’t really know what to expect. Therefore for the first time, my Mum was not going to come with us, which partly explains the decision to go for just six days.

Black-throated divers at the end of the rainbow

A wonderful flat rainbow at Firemore today. There must be an impressive pot of gold at the end of it surely?  Well there certainly was, a flock of 22 stunning summer plumage black-throated divers in the bay at Firemore beach. 

In all seriousness, is there a better looking bird on the British list? Or a more enigmatic bird? Just breathtaking.

Stinky minkes in the Minch

Have you ever smelled a whales breathe? No? Then you've never lived. Minke whales are often given the nickname stinky minke because if you're down wind of them when they blow they..... well you get the idea. 

It was the first of my scheduled whale watching trips from Gairloch this morning, with Hebridean Whale Cruises, on board the Humber rib "Orca 1". As usual it was the most wonderful of experiences, loads of whales and dolphins, even more seabirds, stunning scenery and an exhilarating, high speed 100km (60 mile) ride as well. What's not to love? A bargain at £110. 

Today we travelled to the north tip of Trotternish on Skye, past the Quirang, Kilt Rock and the Old Man of Storr, then through the Gap of Rona and past Raasay before heading back to Gairloch. We saw about seven minke whales, plus lots of common dolphins and a few harbour porpoise. 

Birds were really good, best being a juvenile long-tailed skua which went over our boat twice and then chased a kittiwake. Other birds included a couple of sooty shearwaters and a few storm petrels, all quite close to the boat. The weather has been ok generally but the wind forecast over the next few days is hit and miss so fingers crossed that I can get out again on Wednesday!

Minke whale.

Common dolphins.

Minke whales at Peterburn

A flat calm day today, perfect for whale watching and midges, and Peterburn, just north of Gairloch, is a great place for both. Following another good morning at Big Sand with more views of the black-throated diver flock, I spent the afternoon at my favourite mainland viewing point and counted at least seven minkes scattered across the huge panorama of the Minch. 

The midges were just awful but honestly, who cares when the reward is this?

Looking towards Skye.

Pacific diver at Caolas beag

Caolas beag is the straight between Longa island and the mainland at the northern end of the entrance to Loch Gairloch in North West Scotland. Eight days ago an adult winter plumage Pacific diver was found in the straight, loosely associating with black-throated divers and sometimes shags. It was reported for about five days but then nothing, no news either way. I wasn't completely surprised by this, Caolas beag is a long way from anywhere, even Inverness is a two hour drive, and Pacific divers aren't that rare these days, so it was unlikely to draw a big crowd. I did however expect a few birders today given that it's weekend and it's still a mega rarity in Scotland, with most UK records coming from England and Wales, so I thought that a few Scottish birders might be looking to add it to their Scottish lists. Be that as it may, I was the only birder on site this afternoon.

Tor Olson, who found the first Pacific diver for Norway, has kindly allowed me to use some of his photos here to better illustrate some of the identification features that I'll be discussing in this post. Note that his bird was a 1st summer bird whereas the Big Sand bird is being described as a winter plumage adult, though exactly what the differences are and if they would even be discernible at any distance I'm not sure.

Caolas beag is a place I know well from previous visits to this area. I'm not exactly local at the moment, but I am staying at Aultbea, a village about 17 miles away, so it was no trouble to visit this wonderful site today. 

Pacific diver (left) with black-throated diver,
Lista, Norway 12th July 2015 
Photo © Tor Olson

I scanned the water several times before I picked it up, quite distant with a flock of 12 breeding plumage black-throated divers. It had a completely different jizz to its cousins, being obviously smaller with a finer, shorter bill and a rounder head shape. The difference was so stark that it actually looked like a grebe swimming amongst the divers, as is shown well in this photo by Tor Olson.

Pacific diver, Lista, Norway 12th July 2015
Photo © Tor Olson

Crucially, it did not have the white flanks of black-throated which is a diagnostic feature of Pacific. It's face also lacked the the white cheeks of non-breeding black-throated and the overall impression at that distance was of  a bird with a grey head and  pale throat rather than the usual grey head and pale face of black-throated. It obviously stood out being the only non-breeding plumage bird in the flock.

The pipistrelles over the garden

The bats over the garden have been putting on a good show this summer. For an hour after dusk and an hour before dawn they swirl around the garden, sometimes coming quite close, sometimes going over the neighbours garden, but always coming back to us. We usually watch them through our large patio doors which overlooks the garden. 

The sunset in that direction can be quite dramatic, imagine the sunset for which Pennington Flash is renowned, well we get that through our patio doors. Then, just as it starts to fade and the sky is turning pink, the bats come out and entertain us. It can be so good that often we will turn off the tv, if it was ever on, turn off the lights and just sit there chatting with a beer and looking out at the sunset and watching the bats. Honestly it's better than anything on telly. They're usually around from about the end of March to the end of September but occasionally will come out in winter if we have a mild spell.

We've had bats for at least 10 years, I suspect that they are in our building, probably under the facia at the front. but I've never seen them emerge. I really hope so, I don't want this fabulous experience to depend on sympathetic neighbours who may of may not appreciate the bats. There are three bats in this video, but you'll have to be quick to spot them all!

A few years ago using a bat detector that I borrowed from work, I identified them as soprano pipistrelles broadcasting at around 55 kHz. I've just assumed that that's what they still are, but they could be common pipistrelle, or perhaps both. I no longer have access to a bat detector so I can't check.

Willow emerald completes the set at Bickershaw

With the summer rapidly drawing to a close, bringing more unsettled weather, the pressure was on if I was to complete the set of odonata at Bickershaw in 2026. I mean, how many more suitable days will there be for dragonfly watching this year, especially since I have a holiday to Scotland approaching soon which will take out a sizeable slice of the time available. So today, with a bright sunny afternoon forecast, albeit 15 degrees celsius cooler than it was a couple of weeks ago, I decided that it was an opportunity to seek out the last remaining species on my personal site list that was missing so far this year.

Since I started visiting the site in June 2025, I've managed to record what I think is an amazing 24 species of dragonfly and damselfly. The only one of those 24 species that I hadn't managed to see this year was willow emerald, a late summer and early autumn species. Last year we saw it on a small pond near Fir Tree flash and later on the stock pond in the north of the site. 

Frustratingly when I arrived at the small pond today, the sun was behind a cloud and there was nothing flying so I continued on my way.

However, when I reached the stock pond the sun was out again and almost immediately I managed to see this stunning willow emerald perched on exactly the same tree that we saw them in last year. What a fantastic looking damselfly this is and easy to recognise, being obviously larger than common emerald (up to 4.8cm long) with no large patches of blue in the abdomen, pale pterostigmas (the rectangular patches at the end of the wing) and a prominent spur like mark projecting into the cream on the side of the thorax.

So that's it, if I'm to add to my total for this year I'll need to find something new for the site. Red-veined darter springs to mind, or possibly scarce blue-tailed damselfly. There's always something to look for and Bickershaw has proved to me that anything is possible.

Clifden Nonpareil, St Helens

What a week it's been for moths in St Helens, hot on the heels of Mondays striped hawk-moth, last night brought a Clifden Nonpareil to Ray's trap in Parr. Another migrant, this is a big moth, larger actually than the striped hawk-moth with a forewing of up to 48mm (just under 2"). Unsurprisingly it's in the same family as red underwing. A first for me and the third for St Helens.

Glossy ibis on Teal scrape, Pennington Flash

The glossy ibis from yesterday evening was still present this morning in exactly the same place on the gull raft island just off the spit and showed no inclination to move away from the island. It's routine was sleep for 20 minutes, wake up, preen for 5 minutes, walk right feeding for about 5m, fly back to it's original position, preen for 5 minutes, sleep for 20 minutes, repeat, repeat, repeat etc......  

It continued more or less in this way all morning up until 11am when it suddenly decided to fly east over Horrock's hide, was lost to view behind trees, and was presumed to have gone. However, at 12:25 it was relocated on Teal scrape, viewable from Charlie Owen hide.

I called in again after lunch on my way to do the weekly shop to find only one other birder present in the hide but the ibis showing well and much closer in far better light. 

Why it decided to relocate here is hard to know, it seemed to be feeding quite well in it's original position, but perhaps it just fancied a change of scenery or diet. I wasn't totally surprised, the only other glossy ibis that I have seen at the flash was also on Teal scrape on 8th May 2018 (opens in a new window). 

Glossy ibis on gull raft island

A phone call from Phil had me gulping down my tea and shooting off to the flash this evening in an attempt to see a glossy ibis that he had just found. It was only viewable from the ruck so I headed for Common lane, parked up and crossed the footbridge over the canal then dropped down to the Point. It was on the island with the gull raft on the north side of the spit. It spent some of its time out of view depending on which side of the raft it was on but when it was feeding it was a decent enough view. My second glossy ibis at Pennington Flash following one on Teal scrape on 8th May 2018.

Striped hawk-moth, St Helens

A Striped hawk-moth caught by Dave Owen last night was a first for St Helens and also a first for me. This is a migrant species and it's appearance is not completely unexpected in a year when so many other migrant insects have been seen locally, such as hummingbird hawk-moth, clouded yellow butterflies and lesser emperor dragonflies.

More days of dragonfly hunting at Bickershaw

It's easy to forget that I saw my first small red-eyed damselflies just last year. This year they seem to be everywhere, even in the crane pen at Martin Mere! This pair were at the stock pond, Bickershaw.

Last year we failed to find ruddy darter at Bickershaw but there's been quite a few so far this year.

Scarce chaser 1st for Lancashire, Bickershaw CP

I was at the stock pond at Bickershaw this afternoon when a light blue chaser flew past. My obvious initial reaction was broad-bodied chaser, since they are quite common at the site and are the only chaser here, with the exception of four-spotted which is a very different dragonfly. It flew back and forth for a minute or so, but I didn't pay it too much attention. However it looked a bit different, so finally I looked at it through my binoculars and saw straight away that it had no antehumeral stripes, a black tip to it's blue abdomen, and two dark marks on either side of it's body. The abdomen was also more slender than I would have expected with broad-bodied chaser. Now I was interested because these are amongst the identification features of scarce chaser, a species which doesn't occur anywhere near Greater Manchester but which is known to be spreading north, no doubt spurred on by the current run of heatwaves that the UK has been experiencing.

For such a rare species I knew that I needed to get some photos, but unfortunately the dragonfly only landed once and when it did it was front on and against the light. However, there is enough in my photos to confirm the identification. The dark triangular patch at the base of the hindwing marks it out as a chaser species, but unlike broad-bodied chaser which also has a dark patch at the base on the forewing, this dragonfly does not. Instead the black at the base of the forewing is confined to and follows the major veins, a feature of scarce chaser. The eyes have a blue hue. 

The identification of this dragonfly has been confirmed by British Dragonfly Society expert Adrian Parr and accepted by Lancashire dragonfly recorder Steve White. Thanks to them both for their comments.

This represents the first ever in Lancashire (which for the purposes of dragonfly recording includes this part of Greater Manchester).

Juvenile Mediterranean gull at Pennington Flash

A cracking juvenile Mediterranean gull on the car park at Pennington Flash today. Also today, female common scoter and juvenile whinchat, the latter not seen by me.

Another wave of clouded yellows and black darter at Bickershaw

A decent couple of days at Bickershaw, highlights being another three clouded yellows and an excellent array of dragonflies including my first black darter of the year bringing my Bickershaw total to 22 species in 2026. Also today a few ruddy darters, common darters, four species of hawker and a lingering keeled skimmer. Just need willow emerald now to complete the set at Bickershaw this year.

Spoonbills, quail and avocets on the Ribble

I was at Hesketh Out Marsh for 6:30 this morning, my second visit of the weekend following a late afternoon visit yesterday. With Marshside and Banks now little more than dust bowls, HOM is virtually the only place with water on these marshes, and even here it appears to be drying rapidly. I walked east for about a mile and a half, to the point where the River Douglas joins the Ribble. 

I was accompanied on the way by the song of at least four quail in the fields, while on the pools there were three spoonbill, an adult and two juveniles, 16 avocets, spotted redshank, 600+ black-tailed godwits, around 40 common terns, many redshanks and perhaps most impressively, 26 greenshank. 

On reaching the Douglas I found even more avocets, 40 in total, plus another two spoonbills, the adult and juvenile in the photo at the top of this post.

Quail have bred here this year with adults and chicks seen on at least one occasion, spoonbills breed in the local vicinity and avocets are now long established. It's impossible to walk here these days without seeing at least 20 little egrets and two or three great white egrets. Should we be happy or concerned? Short term happy I guess, but long term? Who knows?

Wood sandpiper and yellow wagtails at Martin Mere

After a long, hot, dry summer there is very little water left at Martin Mere. Vinsons and Woodend marshes are completely dry and there's just a puddle left on Sunleys. The only water really is on the Mere and at the reedbed. Langley's brook still flows, albeit with more mud than normal, but Boat House sluice looks as full as ever. 

Even so, there are still plenty of good birds to be seen, with up to five great white egrets on site, plus 20 cattle egrets and a few little. Wood, green and common sandpipers are all still around and there's a growing flock of 22 ruff. The damp mud of Sunleys is attracting decent numbers of wagtails, with at least 20+ yellow and probably around the same number of alba wagtails today. A kingfisher fished on Boat House sluice.

This wood sandpiper has been on the mere for about four days and can show really well at times, as it did yesterday. However, today it was right at the back of the mere and for a brief spell relocated to Langley's brook where it joined four green sandpipers.

The mere is actually looking really good for waders and if it can stay like this for another month it may be the place to be during late August / September. With so many other places completely dry, it may become a magnet for passage waders.

Hungarian black-headed gull at the flash

A black-headed gull with a yellow ring H2Z8 was on the car park at Pennington Flash today, ringed at  Királyszentistván, near Budapest, Hungary on 18/01/2026, a distance of 1619km from Leigh.

This is a first for me from Hungary which means that I have so far recorded black-headed gulls from Poland, Finland, Holland, Germany, Norway and now Hungary all on the car park at the flash. Reading the rings and submitting them to the relevant authorities makes life so much more interesting than just walking past a group of gulls.