Blog Archives: Travel by Rail

#WildEssex on Tour: across the border – to Felixstowe

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Following two previous successful #WildEssex on tour events, to Harlow last year and Burnham in 2022, this time we ventured abroad (out of the county!) to Felixstowe. A different county maybe, but Essex was in sight for most of the time…

We assembled at lunchtime on the first day at the Alex, for a fine snack and a drink. We had been worried by the wet and windy weather forecast but it was warm enough to sit outside, and the sun even came out for us. Indeed the weather gods were on our side for all three days: the threatened heavy, prolonged rain came when we were indoors or asleep, and the only time we got really wet was walking home from the station at the very end.

Our first afternoon was spent examining the Felixstowe seafront and gardens. Looking out seaward gave some idea of the busyness of the shipping lanes out there, with some huge container vessels on the horizon looking more like the Manhattan skyline than anything afloat.

Large rock groynes provide an artificial rocky shore habitat, with seaweeds, limpets and other marine life. As we looked at an array of shells found on the shingle beach, a Red Admiral plonked down next to us. A very fresh individual, it was probably migrating southwards, something that has been happening en masse over the past couple of weeks.

The planting on the cliff slopes is largely Mediterranean shrubs, some still in flower, others in fruit…

Best of all for insects though, as always at this time of year, was the flowering Ivy, abuzz with Ivy Bees, Honeybees, bumblebees and hoverflies, all a rich source of food for the Garden Spiders.

The Holm Oaks were absolutely riddled with leaf-mines from the micromoth Phyllonorycter messaniella, to a greater extent than we have seen elsewhere. Although a bit unsightly, such infestations apparently don’t affect the tree significantly, and each mine contains a mini-morsel for a Blue Tit – it is good to see a non-native tree that is likely to be a big part of our future landscape garnering its own ecology, fitting it to its new home.

The geology of the cliffs, with gravels over clays, means there are springs, which have been tamed and corralled into water features, some dripping with newly formed tufa, ponds with Curled Pondweed, Watercress and Monkeyflower; pond-skaters skittering on the surface; and rocks covered with Ivy-leaved Toadflax.

Grassy slopes had Wild Clary in flower, and the lower, salt-splattered lawns were clothed in the attractive rosettes of Common Stork’s-bill and Buck’s-horn Plantain. And cracks on the promenade were colonised by Guernsey Fleabane and Water Bent, two relatively new plants in these parts, but again likely to be a big part of our future in an overheated world.

A walk along the prom, via a cuppa in the Spa Pavilion, finished the afternoon, with most then opting for dinner at the Premier Inn. But no takers for the batting option in Langer Park!

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Next day dawned dull with spots of wet in the breeze. As we headed to the north side of town on foot and by bus, a patch of Caper Spurge weaved an interesting pattern …

… and the view out to sea reflected to rather dismal weather.

Heading towards Felixstowe Ferry, we soon diverted onto vegetated shingle, an internationally important habitat type and one for which Suffolk is justifiably renowned, the realm of Sea Kale and Sea Pea, Sea Campion and Sea Beet, Sea Holly and Sea Spurge … quite a theme developing there!

Down by the saline pools there was a saltmarsh of Sea Purslane and Annual Seablite, now assuming its diverse autumn tints, but few birds apart from gulls (including a Great Black-back), Cormorants and a Little Egret.

Continuing along the seawall, past the Martello Towers, we found plenty of botanical interest, including Lucerne (purple), Sickle Medick (yellow) and Sand Lucerne, the remarkable hybrid between the two in a whole range of intermediate and extramediate hues.

White Ramping-fumitory was  in good flower, and there were plenty of (soggy) seed-heads, including Hare’s-foot Clover, Rough Dog’s-tail and Bristly Ox-tongue in a veritable botanical menagerie.

 

Here Jude also spotted several Firebugs feeding upon Mallow seeds, a very recent arrival first found across the water around Harwich in the last five years, and Turnip Sawflies, in a similar colour palette.

Having discussed (and in some cases tasted) foods from nature on the shingle (pea, kale, holly and beet) we soon found ourselves among more edibles and flavourings, including Fennel, Duke of Argyll’s Tea-tree (goji berries), Dittander (like Horseradish), Sea Radish and, best of all, the mini taste-bombs of Crow Garlic bulbils, a revelation even to me. The Suffolk coastal paleo-diet seems an apt descriptor, except of course that many of these plants we simply not here in ‘paleo’ times!

Into Felixstowe Ferry hamlet, with Bawdsey Manor in sight, we headed into the Ferryboat for liquid refreshment, while once again the sun came out and warmed things up, before the foot ferry to Bawdsey Quay took us to a lovely picnic spot overlooking a tranquil Deben Estuary.

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At our feet was a small sand dune with Sea Holly, Sea Mayweed and Marram, with a drift-line of Sea Rocket, Frosted Orache and Prickly Saltwort.

The rocket and related crucifers were being absolutely demolished by Large White butterfly caterpillars.

In the humid air, Migrant Hawker dragonflies were flying around in force, while along the woodland edge a few insects were tracked down, including Nettle-tap moth and a pair of the long-legged flies Liancalus virens. Normally associated with waterfalls and fast-flowing streams, and therefore mostly found in the western half of the country, there is one previous record on the NBN Atlas from around Ipswich, and in Essex at least there is a concentration of records from the estuarine fringes.

Juicy brambles and Alexanders seeds (like aromatic peppercorns) were added to our seaside banquet as Robins were singing their wistful autumn songs in the trees, which included several large Turkey Oaks. The Holm Oaks here had leaf-miners, but mostly the smaller galleries of Ectoedemia heringella, along with pimple-galls caused by gall-mites. Lime and Field Maple also showed mite-galls, impressively so in the case of the lime nail-galls,  while Field Maple and Sycamore showed distinctive signs of fungal attack, mildew and tar-spot respectively.

But as the afternoon was progressing, it was time for the return ferry, into Winkles café for a cuppa, then the walk back, past migrant Wheatears, some Tamarisk in full bloom and a Devil’s Coach-horse with upcurled abdomen, alarmed and alarming in equal measure.

The return buses were so infrequent and the clouds so threatening that we decided to walk the whole way back along the prom (or as near as we could when diverted), to the Boardwalk Bar on the pier for rehydration purposes and sunset, the Fish Dish for a splendid meal. And for some a more leisurely return to the Boardwalk afterwards….

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A rainy breakfast time on the final day soon dried up; the sun came out but the wind rose, scuppering the plans of some of the group to take the Harwich Foot Ferry home in the  afternoon. But time for a good couple of hours on Landguard Point and Common, a great vantage point to watch the incessant port activity and comings and goings of shipping, and recognize the internationally strategic value of this location, now and in the past – the reasons for the Fort and the bird observatory being there, defence and migration study respectively.

At the seaward edges of the shingle peninsula, lines of Oraches, including Babington’s, and Prickly Saltwort picked out the drift-line.

Moving inland, impressive patches of Yellow Horned-poppy, untidy but still just in flower, mingled with Sea Kale again.

Sandier patches were dominated more by Sea Spurge and Sea Holly, with a few plants of Ray’s Knotgrass, never an easy species to track down.

One the more stabilised dune- and shingle-heath shingle Heath, Reindeer ‘Mosses’ and Sandhill Screw-moss dominated large patches, with  Common Stork’s-bill (in flower this time), Sticky Groundsel and Sand Cat’s-tail, plus last few flowering Viper’s-bugloss.

    

Despite the wind, a few birds on the Common included feeding Pied Wagtails and Meadow Pipits, with twittering Linnets in the bushes and Starlings overhead. Then to the oldest part of all, vegetation-wise, the shingle scrub with Elder and Wild Privet. In the shelter and sun, there was plenty of insect activity including a Box Bug nymph and more Common Blues than we have seen put together over the past summer…

All that was then left was to head back to the Viewpoint Café for a superb (late!) brunch, passing Narrow-leaved Ragwort and Jersey Cudweed on the way, more new plants potentially brought in by the port trade.

And after a great three days, time for fond farewells, all without getting seriously wet: WildEssex 1, Met Office 0! Thanks to all who helped make it such fun!!

A walk round Silver End…

Britain's Wildlife, Miscellaneous, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

It was the day before the autumn equinox, but the weather had other ideas: perfect blue skies and hot sunshine, in a last flurry of summer. Where to go? What to do? Why not a trip to Silver End: train to Witham, then bus to our destination, only 40 minutes’ travel if the connections work.

We do like a bit of social history, especially living history in bricks and mortar. Over the past few years we have spent very happy days visiting Saltaire, New Lanark, Port Sunlight and East Tilbury, all living villages that were created to house the workers from local industry. Whether through philanthropy or a desire of the ‘master’ to exercise control over his workforce more easily is a moot point…

But our closest ‘model village’ was until this weekend a mystery to us, despite the fact we have driven past the sign to it on the A12 countless times over the years. Silver End was developed from 1926 as a village to house workers for the Crittall windows factory, and plenty of the original buildings survive, mostly with the distinctive metal-framed windows produced at the site, and apparently used here to test their durability in the face of British weather.

Especially on Silver Street and Francis Way, the view is still remarkably intact, with flat-roofed ivory-white buildings, often with pebble-dashed chimneys, in remarkable conformity.

Aside from these, there is an array of contemporary housing designs, each immediate group differing from others through the whims of different architects, together with buildings providing community services such as schools, hotel, larger houses for the management and municipal parks.

One of the most celebrated of the listed Modernist houses is ‘Le Chateau’, the one that established the template for the rest of the village, although its current state of apparent neglect shows that listing is of little value in itself unless it comes with a responsibility to maintain.

But the whole community still feels intact. We had been expecting the worst, especially having seen East Tilbury, but we were very pleasantly surprised…

East Tilbury still has the iconic BATA factory, albeit in a state of dereliction, at its heart…

… but sadly at Silver End, the Crittall factory buildings were mostly demolished in 2008. The heart was ripped out of the meaning of the whole settlement, despite its recognition as a conservation area.

Just a few disused factory buildings survive today, amid a vast swathe of brownfield land. It is hard to imagine any modern development that could replace these without destroying the raison-d’être of Silver End. Perhaps it would be best left in this state of ‘urban decay’, which of course would certainly add wildlife value into the mix.

The small area we were able to explore (most is behind serious exclusionary barricades) had a typically random mix of plants from Narrow-leaved Ragwort to Raspberry, and Red Valerian to Guernsey Fleabane, all covered in Large and Small White butterflies and Seven-spot Ladybirds. Brownfield sites never fail to excite!

 

While the hub of Silver End seems to be the Co-op, on the site of a department store to serve the model village which burned down in 1951, only at the edge of the village is there a pub, the Western Arms. And what a find that was: a good pint (or two!) and great food  (homemade pie for me, mushroom linguini for Jude, with a seafood starter from the fish kiosk) in the beer-garden. And with a female Migrant Hawker  for company  as well! She found the wooden fence to her liking, and arched her abdomen several times as though she were egg-laying, although no water in sight: a mystery to finish our excellent day out!

 

Walks in Progress: Exploring the Colne Valley Path around Chappel

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Again looking for potential new day-long wildlife walks (see Around the peaks of the Essex Alps.…), we headed by train to the village of Chappel, half -way along the branch-line from Marks Tey to Sudbury, on a lovely, calm, sunny autumn day. Often overshadowed by its neighbouring Stour Valley, the one with the designation of Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (now rebranded National Landscapes), to our mind the Colne, running from Great Yeldham to Colchester and thence to the tidal estuary we are fortunate enough to wake up to every day, is every bit as ‘Outstanding’!

We headed upstream from Chappel through the broad, sweeping pastoral valley with well-wooded slopes.

Every so often the paths approach or cross the river itself…

Here we found Grey Wagtails, Kingfisher and Little Egret; twittering, feeding Swallows; and riverbanks in places with dense patches of Small Teasel, scarce in Essex, and very much a speciality of the northernmost river valleys.

And plenty of human interest as well from churches to mills and fishing ponds.

Away from the valley bottom, the landscape was more enclosed with large hedgerows, just bursting with the fruits (and galls) of the season, as well as buzzing with the multitudinous visitors to the late-summer riches of Ivy flowers: Honeybees, Ivy Bees, bumblebees, hoverflies, Box Bugs, social wasps and many more. Also Red Admirals, although not showing the urgent migratory behaviour we had seen for the previous week along the coast.

In the grassland, several Small Heaths were flying, and a sluggish Hornet gave unbeatable views.

At Chalkney Mill we left the river behind and headed uphill through Chalkney Wood. An ancient wood with a interesting history, I was involved 20 years ago in securing the deconiferization of the two-thirds of the wood owned by the Forestry Commission. And now you would never know that it had had a forty-year blip in its venerable history of coppicing. It was especially reassuring to see Small-leaved Lime, the tree for which the wood is especially renowned, rising from the ashes of herbicide application and dense, dark overshading.

Far from the best time of year to see such a wood, the sheltered rides at least had good numbers of dragonflies: Common Darters, Migrant Hawkers and a Southern Hawker.

Returning along the higher ground, passing damp woods and springs filled with Great Horsetail and Common Fleabane …

… we reached some of the more sandy peaks, with excellent views and a few characteristic plants such as Blue Fleabane.

In addition the arable fields on the plateaux were not without interest, some sown with bird-seed mixes, and others newly ploughed tracts revealing abundant flints. There is no chalk locally for flints to come from: these hills are clothed in ‘chalky boulder clay’, the accumulated detritus picked up further north from the melting of the Anglian glacial advance.

And something I have never seen before, Wispy Willowherb Epilobium brachycarpum growing as an arable ‘weed’. This is a a rapidly spreading species from its first UK discovery, near Colchester, as recently as 2004.

Another short walk and the magnificent railway viaduct formed a fine full stop to the walk. Completed in 1849 and still used to this day, this is one of the largest brick structures in the country, containing about the same number of bricks – some 6 million – as Battersea Power Station!

All this, and more on our stroll, when ended very convivially with a pint and a super meal in The Swan Inn, back down beside the river itself. Lots of potential for wildlife walks around here: quintessentially English landscape, with nothing rare perhaps but still lots to see at any time from spring to autumn.

 

#WildEssexWalks: Harwich town and beach

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Despite disappointment that our proposed ferry trip to Felixstowe wasn’t possible due to windy weather, we nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed half of our planned day’s event – a morning’s walk around Harwich – the Wild Essex event for September.  The ‘après walk’ of lunch in the Pier Café and a drink in the Alma only added to the fun and we’d like to thank everyone who came along.

Harwich with its many historic buildings was once a busy and thriving port, but today had a relaxed air of an out-of-season holiday destination, with few other visitors. And the cracks of the pavements were filled with interesting plants such as Shaggy Soldier.

We had the beach to ourselves, which gave a free rein to admire and study the plants which thrive in this most inhospitable of habitats: Sea Rocket on the strandline, Lyme Grass, Rock Samphire, Sea Spurge and Sea-holly on the low dunes, although the latter especially was looking very frazzled after the midsummer heat and drought.

Greenest of all was the clump of Japanese Rose, also with its large lustrous hips and a few extravagantly scented flowers. An aggressive spreader in some circumstances, it was good to see it has remained pretty stable since we left the area a decade ago.

We did a quick roll-call of shells on the beach – cockles, mussels, oysters, limpets, slipper-limpets and whelks to name but a few, but although we hunted high and low we weren’t fortunate enough to find any of the fossilized sharks’ teeth which we know reside on the beach.  It’s one of those things – sometimes you’re lucky and sometimes not!

Of course we managed a spot of birdwatching whilst there, with Sandwich Terns passing by noisily and fishing just offshore,  a medley of different gulls providing aerial entertainment and  Turnstones feeding unobtrusively on the rocky, weed-covered shoreline of the Harwich Stone Band, the only natural rocky shore between North Norfolk and Kent.

The few insects around (there had been quite a temperature drop overnight) included plasterer bees feeding and fighting (or frolicking?) on flowers of Bristly Oxtongue: the bees were probably Sea Aster Mining-bees, though related species are very difficult to tell apart.

On the other side of the estuary the comings and goings of the busy port of Felixstowe were interesting to view, as were the various arrays of wind turbines, very visible in the clear morning sky.

We hope to rearrange this trip next year – aiming for early summer rather than late, in the hope that the weather will be calmer and the ferry will be running.

Southend and seaward …

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

It all started in April this year when we took Eleanor away for a night for the second time (the first being Cambridge last summer), this time to Southend-on-Sea. In the event it was very windy and cold so we spent most of our time in the indoor play area of Adventure Island (Eleanor was happy!) but we did take a train ride out to the end of the longest pier in the world.

A confession: although I worked most of my career on the Essex coast, I had never before been to the end of the pier. Perhaps it’s because of my challenging introduction to it, one of the first cases I worked on fresh out of university in 1986. That was a horrendous proposal to claim a vast swathe of land from the mudflats around the pier, creating an artificial island to be clad in hundreds of houses and fringed by a marina. It was a sorry tale of corruption and murky East End money (I was warned to be vigilant for violent reprisals)… Quite an eye opener so early in my career: conservation wasn’t all about fluffy bunnies and beautiful butterflies!

Anyway, once the political corruption was uncovered the development fell apart, and the data gathered by RSPB to help our case gave me all I needed to designate the entirety of Southend frontage as SSSI, Special Protection Area and Ramsar site – a place of national and international importance for overwintering waterbirds. Hitherto the only bit between Shoeburyness and Canvey that had benefited from protection was Leigh National Nature Reserve, centred around the vast Eel-grass beds off Two Tree Island and Leigh, justifiably famed for its Brent Geese.

So when I finally got to the end of the pier nearly 40 years later it was with fresh eyes,  upriver to London Gateway (another big case I worked on), landward, Kentward and seaward, where we saw the Red Sands forts hovering enticingly on the horizon  in front of the giant wind turbines of London Array some 3km beyond.

The Maunsell forts, built as defensive gun emplacements in WW2, are still standing proud and rusting, like something from a sci-fi movie. We had seen them and been similarly thrilled by them in the past from Whitstable, visited an exhibition about them, and always fancied a visit up close. Indeed we had booked one ten years ago, but the operator ceased trading. So it was great to find Jetstream tours online, now taking trips out there from Southend Pier. We duly booked for last week, taking the opportunity for another night away in Southend, one holiday triggering another!

Our recent jaunt started at Leigh-on-sea station, heading into the charms of Old Leigh …

And especially the Peterboat Inn, right by the NNR and serving for me the most wonderful tasty and filling clam chowder, served in a cob.

Then it was along the seawall track all the way to the pier, the high tide-line dotted with Golden-samphire, Grass-leaved Orache and Sea Wormwood…

To the landward, there was Perennial Wall-rocket, Common Toadflax and Seaside Daisy, with climbing Ivy covered in insects and scrambling Wild Clematis.

Along the whole of the 5km frontage, wherever there was Common Mallow there were Firebugs, a new arrival in the county (and country) that would not have been here when I first knew it. Nor indeed would have been Mediterranean Gulls, at least in such large numbers…

Next morning dawned misty and threatening rain, although that didn’t deter the local wildlife from making the most of the post-summer holiday human detritus on the cliff slopes. The large oak trees were not, as we normally expect, clothed in galls, perhaps a reflection of the windy conditions overlooking the estuary, although the leaves did show numerous leaf-mines.

Out at the end of the pier, there were spawning groups of Grey Mullet, lots of Herring and Black-headed Gulls, along with more Mediterraneans, and some decent roosting flocks of Turnstones, newly back from the tundra…

But most remarkable was the number of Red Admirals migrating south along the pier, reaching the end and, not able to see the other side, circling round presumably until the migratory urge eventually forced them over. There were hundreds throughout the day, including several way out over the open mouth of the estuary. A similar movement was picked up along the Dutch coast the same day. Remarkable really, especially as these are not the individuals that made the springtime journey here. Not even the parents, but probably the grandparents may have made it here, if indeed they were not ones that survived the winter here as many now do.

So it was off eastwards into the open estuary ,,,

… well, as open an estuary as it can be with all the buoys, beacons and wrecks, and many, many vessels, both trading and (like dredgers and cable-layers) working.

The traffic was heavy and the visibility far from perfect, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising that apart from gulls and Cormorants (and Red Admirals – one photobombing the picture above!), there were rather few seabirds an other marine life. Just a few Gannets passed by, together with Common and Little Terns, a flock of Wigeons and passing overhead a couple of migrating Rock Pipits.

Then after more than an hour of steaming eventually the shape of the forts emerged from the mist. So far out, yet they seemed no nearer than when we had seen them previously from the pier. Perhaps that was a bit of a magnified mirage as can happen over water?

Closer and ever closer we headed, and the details be came clearer …

… until we went right through the array, between the slightly offset searchlight tower and the rest. Remarkable structures, formerly joined by aerial walkways, they are probably now beyond repair and being claimed by rust and gulls. If you want to visit them, and we would thoroughly recommend it, don’t leave it too long!

Round and round we went, seeing the array from every angle, through the watery upwellings of sunken forts, past the potentially explosive wreck of the ‘Liberty Ship’, the SS Richard Montgomery, and back to Southend Pier three hours after our departure. A wonderful day out and a fitting centrepiece to the September leg of our year of monthly delights.

Late summer in Cambridge Botanic Garden

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

A summertime trip to Cambridge Botanic Garden is always in order: there are the flowers of course, but also insects using the garden’s resources. Well, at least in most years: the poor insect showing of 2024 has been mentioned time again in these blogs, and sadly the story was the same here last week.

Of course there were insects, but fewer in number and range than we hoped for, although bumblebees at least seemed to be thriving, albeit almost all of just one species (Buff-tailed), around the flowers of Eryngium, Scabiosa, Echinops and Lavandula in particular.

Otherwise the following selection shows quite a good range of insects, although remember that all too many of these were just single individuals.

Several things though we did find noteworthy, from the remarkable camouflage of multi-instar aggregations of Dock Bugs on the seeds of Great Water Dock to foraging Bee-wolves, not particularly special nowadays but always a thrill for those of us with memories back to the 20th century, when they were restricted to far southern heathlands…

… and a new carrion beetle to us, Silpha laevigata, a specialist of the Chilterns and North Downs chalk on account of it favoured prey, snails.

Another, perhaps less unexpected, surprise was on the leaves of one of the Mediterranean evergreen oaks, Quercus trojana, which bore leaf-mines identical to those of the micromoth Phyllonorycter messaniella. This is familiar to us now as a miner of Holm Oak, but not according to our researches this new host species. Then again, who is looking?

Apart from that it was left to the plants to entertain, including species (sometimes rather rare) native to our shores …

… to those that have established themselves in the wild from cultivation in the past few centuries …

… and those that, at least for now, are garden novelties only.

 

Otherwise it was up to certain species, here Cornelian-cherry and Deadly Nightshade, to give us a hint of the impending season.

All that is left to say is a twinge of disappointment that the eco-optimism we felt on previous visits may have been misplaced. Where was the long grass? Maybe (being generous) it had already been harvested as hay, but especially after such a slow start to the summer, an August cut would have decimated insect populations. And on that topic, why celebrate the flowering of Thalia dealbata as a point of garden interest, given its now well documented antisocial behaviour, killing pollinators slowly.

Having said that, it was always a pleasure to be there, and so convenient for our preferred travel by rail!

Two days in Norwich

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

Our August short break was very special, one on which 6 year-old Eleanor was able to come with us. An easy train journey followed by a bus brought us to the University of East Anglia by lunchtime. In the nearly 40 years since I left after my PhD, I have been back only a mere handful of times.

But it never fails to stir me. Memories of hard work, but lots of fun. And it has left me with an enduring love of Brutalist architecture…

Whilst some public sculpture was always there, there is so much more now:

And the campus, in which I honed so many of my identification skills (and probably spent too much time when I should have been in the lab), is still wonderfully wild, at least in front of the famous ziggurats and the teaching wall (behind the wall, things are very different!).

Woolly Mullein, a Norfolk speciality, is still there, and a short walk brought us tinkling parties of Goldfinches, and a selection of insects including the micromoth Agriphila tristella, a red flea-beetle Sphaeroderma and (new to us) a willow-feeding mirid bug Agnocoris reclairei.

Plenty of the mullein also around the city, including on the old flint city walls …

Almost under the shadow of the hulking Catholic Cathedral, the Plantation Garden (essentially a Victorian Gothic folly within an abandoned chalk pit) was as delightful as ever:

You might have to peer hard to see the Large House Spider in the final picture!

And on the other side of town, the magnificently graceful Anglican cathedral provided shade from the heat along with architectural and artistic drama:

Eleanor, not to be outdone, also seemed inspired by the Anglican Cathedral and the Plantation Garden. Here are some of her photographic efforts, given free rein to see the world as only a 6 year-old can!

Two days topped off with a drink and loaded chips outside the lovely Adam & Eve pub, and not even return rail disruption due to a lineside fire could take away the pleasure!

#WildEssexWalks: Mistley Furze Hill and Old Knobbley

Britain's Wildlife, Bug & Botany Walks, Travel by Rail, WildEssex

Wow!  A warm summer’s day – what a lovely change – and enjoyed by our group on our Wild Essex walk in Mistley.  Our journey took us through the Edme Malt works, where we admired some of the intricate decoration of these functional buildings, under the railway line and on through a cow field where the residents were curious but friendly.

A walk along a rather attractive footpath reminiscent of a holloway where the tree canopies meet was a cool place to wander out of the sun’s glare and admire some of the wild flowers, Cuckoo Pint, Herb Robert and Hogweed to name but three.

Of course Chris took the opportunity to talk about the characteristics used in his new flower identification guide such as the ‘false insect’ and branched bracts of Wild Carrot, the four-lobed stigma of Great Willowherb and the uniquely two-petalled Enchanter’s-nightshade.

A few galls were spotted including two very different ones on Dog Rose: smooth pea-gall and spiked pea-gall. A complex, confusing and confused pair, the spiked version  belongs to the gall-wasp Diplolepis nervosa though the smooth one could be caused either by D. nervosa or the closely related D. eglanteriae. In this form, the two species are indistinguishable.

At the top of the lane we continued on to the edges of the local amenity field, past the ‘Secret Bunker’ and rather interesting Passive houses. Here there were more stands of wild flowers (including Ragwort, but without stripy Cinnabar caterpillars) and a number of butterflies seen.  Sadly numbers of these insects seems to be quite low this year, at least so far, though by the end of the afternoon we had spotted seven species – Red Admiral, Holly Blue, Comma, Large White, Gatekeeper, Meadow Brown and Large Skipper.

Just a few other insects attracted our attention including a 10-spot Ladybird, a flesh-fly and and a nymph Speckled Bush-cricket.

And on to the main event – through the wood that clothes the flanks of Furze Hill we admired a number of old oak trees, many of which showing signs of pollarding down the ages resulting in interesting branch formations.

At last we reached Old Knobbley Himself.  Well-named,  this 800 (at least) year-old tree is covered in nobbles and lumps – some caused by bacterial infections and galls – but despite its vast age, this charmer still looks pretty fab and very much alive with upper branches sprouting leaves with gay abandon.  It is such a tactile beast we all spent time stroking  and patting the trunk, and spent time imagining what some of the limbs might represent – two elephants, a moose, a stag?

And as we walked round his girth, is it possible the enveloping folds of root and bark were nursing the oaklet that will eventually replace its esteemed forebear?

And so it was time to turn back to ensure we reached our trains punctually.  A little walk along School Lane brought us back to the station and it was time to say our farewells.  Thank you to all who came along, and to everyone who supports our Wild Essex venture.  Hope to see you all again soon.

Three days by train: Romsey & Southampton

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

Our July mini-break of our year (or more!) of mini-breaks took us to Hampshire, specifically Romsey. Where? you may ask! We certainly did when during our February break in Reading, while wandering around the ruined (albeit impressive) abbey, we saw a board showing what it would have looked like: ‘our sister abbey in Romsey’…. Before the day was done we had booked a break in a place that had never entered our consciousness before.

The abbey did not disappoint. While certainly not stately and soaring (actually rather squat), it is beautifully proportioned, and filled with impressive architecture and art from through the ages. Add to that a warm welcome from the attendants who passed on all sorts of useful hints for our days to come (who needs Tourist Information Centres?!), our break got off to a very good start.

Romsey itself is also delightful, a small market town full of historic buildings …

… including the White Horse Hotel, our excellent base for two nights. We had superb evening meals, both at the White Horse and the Old House at Home, the latter with a side order of a marching band that came from the British Legion next door and marched on through the restaurant, still playing. Almost loud enough to drown out the wonderful large screaming parties of Swifts hurtling down the narrow streets. Us watching them careering around and into nest crevices suggested to one local chap we might be from the ‘Test Valley Swift Group’ and he then launched into a very full description of the Swifts of the town, a source of evident pride!

And then there is the River Test itself, one of the premier chalk-streams in Britain, forming the west flank of the town and sending runnels right through its heart, with clear, fast-flowing water supporting lots of aquatic plant life.

However, in common with so many places this summer, precious little insect life, just one each of caddis-fly and solitary bee along a couple of hundred metres of riverbank. Makes you wonder just what the Swifts are finding to feed upon.

Just north of the town was another reason for our visit, Hiller’s Garden and Arboretum, created by Sir Harold Hillier and left in the care of the local authority.

There are trees and other plants from all over the world, reasonably well labelled, and arranged in variously themed beds:

Of particular interest was the collection of Cotoneaster species, allowing side-by-side comparison of this very large and confusing genus.

And highlights for us were a remarkable (unnamed) curly-wurly form of Miscanthus sinensis and the newly opened, fascinating flower-heads of Dwarf Elder.

Of course, in its 72 hectares there is ample space for nature. Native plants included Common Spotted-orchid, Great Horsetail, Slender St John’s-wort, Self-heal, Enchanter’s-nightshade and Corky-fruited Water-dropwort …

… although once again insects were in short supply. Butterflies were restricted to a few Meadow Browns, a handful of Gatekeepers and Ringlets, and a single Marbled White, hardly the bounty expected of early July.

There were other insects of course, across a range of groups, but the following might give a false impression of abundance: I photographed everything I could and that is all we had to show for our efforts.

Nonetheless, it was a very interesting garden, and one which has given us another short break idea for next year, a visit to Ventnor Botanic Garden on the Isle of Wight, similarly created by Hillier and apparently containing some rooms to let within its grounds. Watch this space!

On our last day, we took the opportunity to visit Southampton for a few hours, a city neither of us knew. Views of the sea are always welcome, albeit not the open sea from the angle we were looking:

And, as always, it had some buildings of interest, from the ultra-modern …

… to the Modernist delights of last century …

… and indeed earlier centuries …

… going right back to the still-impressive city walls.

A more natural flavour came from Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls everywhere, Sandwich Terns around the ferry port, street trees including Indian Bean Trees and Common Limes, both in flower and attracting bumblebees (more here than anywhere else in our trip).

And the grassy slopes below the walls had a good population of Hawkweed Ox-tongue (rather uncommon in Essex, so good to see) alongside Ragwort being demolished by Cinnabar caterpillars. In Hillier’s and elsewhere we were remarking how there were none of these munchers: as so often it was up to the often overlooked nature within urban greenspace to fly the flag and provide a glimmer of hope for the future. Quite appropriately too, it was the day of the General Election!

Tales of the Bonny Clyde: 3 – Glasgow & Cumbernauld

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

And so to Glasgow, midway in Clyde terms between the turbulent upper reaches at New Lanark and the stately tidal mouth around Dunoon and Gourock. Glasgow is one of our favourite cities, possibly the favourite one of all, the result of wonderful experiences there over the past decade. Some of the best times of course have been based around the pubs, especially the Scotia and the Clutha Bars. Both of which were on our walk from the station to our hotel in the Gorbals, on opposite sides of the street … well, it would have been rude not to have checked them out before checking in! The Clutha Bar was especially inviting, with a pizza and a pint offer to complement earlier gastronomic experiences, and live (loud) music  to fill the sound of silence after living with the rushing Clyde for the last couple of days.

So it was early evening before we unloaded at the hotel, and headed out for a walk through familiar streets, by bridges and along the river. Pity the wind was so strong and out of the north – absolutely not a summertime experience, even for Scotland. But a Goosander on the river, stately stands of Giant Hogweed on the riverbank and singing Willow Warblers from seemingly every patch of railway scrub gave us our daily nature fix.

The Southern Necropolis cemetery has also done this for us in the past, so after breakfast at the wonderful G5 deli (again one of our regulars and favourites, conveniently round the corner from the Premier Inn) we headed there again. Sadly much of the grass had recently been mown, and the air was simply too cold for insect activity, but it remains a tranquil green refuge.

Our long-awaited first visit to the Burrell Collection, set in the Pollok Country Park played a big part in our decision to return. The park itself contains some lovely grassland and woodland (and provided us with a rather battered Lime Hawk-moth) while the collection is housed in a simply wonderful, recently upgraded, modern architectural marvel.

Light from every angle, shadows as important as the art itself, and the luxury of space make this one of the best museum/galleries we have been to, complemented by interesting exhibits (not always the case, we have found) – and it is free!!

A final flourish for our holiday was a jaunt out to Cumbernauld. We like concrete brutalism, we like planned new towns such as Harlow, so a visit was a must. The train from Queen Street started in an interesting fashion, with hordes of glittering Swifties waiting to head out to Murrayfield, such that the concrete of Cumbernauld represented reassuring familiarity.

Planned and built from the 1950s, like Harlow the town features extensive traffic-free walking routes, some forming impressive green corridors.

   

From the station to the Centre we had to cross not a single road, until arriving at the heart, now given over firmly to the domain of the car. By now the hottest day of our holiday, after a restorative pint among the public sculpture (reminiscent again of Harlow) we strolled around and through the 1950s dream that hasn’t really been served well by history.

Bits have been knocked down, other bits added piecemeal, but its brutalist heart is just still beating – or is that the sound of raindrops dripping into the shopping mall, a leaking canyon of empty units and charity shops?

The Centre is deemed worthy of listing, but the authorities have decided not to, given that plans for comprehensive redevelopment are apparently well advanced. Necessary perhaps, but replacing utopian individualism with modern retail conformity hardly seems like a great step forward.

All that was left to do was much more uplifting: after a good trek along greenways, again largely traffic free, and over the raging motorway, we found ourselves at the Arria statue, by Andy Scott, he of the Kelpies renown.

Imposing yet invisible until almost upon her, she was remarkable, standing in a lovely meadow with Yellow-rattle, Greater Butterfly- and Northern Marsh-orchids. and with a stillness that seems to subdue even the roar of the motorway, helped by the tinkles of yet more Willow Warblers.

Why here? Well, Cumbernauld stands on the watershed of Scotland (its name may be derived from a translation of ‘meeting of the waters’). So this really complements the rest of our holiday, representing the point at which rainwater drainage runs either east into the Forth or west to the Clyde.

And watershed in a metaphorical context, an east-west political boundary, the furthest reach of the Roman Empire. marked by the nearby Antonine Wall: Arria is named after the mother of  Emperor Antonius. And to draw the watershed imagery together, the statue is inscribed with the words of the poem ‘Watershed’ by Scottish poet Jim Carruth.

It is a pity that time, and the very late sunset, didn’t allow us to see Arria in her internally illuminated glory. But back in Cumbernauld centre, the Beefeater gave us sustenance, and the warmest welcome (which naturally translated into the largest tip) of our entire holiday.

On our final morning I woke to the song of yet another Willow Warbler, this in the hotel car park, a particularly poignant sound for those of us from a part of the country from which they have been stripped as a breeding bird in only the past decade by climate change. A song of our recent past that remains in my brain. Without a memory there can be no mourning, so sing, little bird, of the things we have lost but could be ours again if only we have the will.

For other blogs from this trip, see:

Tales of the Bonny Clyde: 1 – Dunoon & Benmore | Chris Gibson Wildlife

Tales of the Bonny Clyde: 2 – New Lanark | Chris Gibson Wildlife

 

Tales of the Bonny Clyde: 2 – New Lanark

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

As we left the station at Lanark, something was clearly afoot. Crowds, flags, bunting, revelry and general merriment, people in various states of undress despite the freezing wind – on a Thursday afternoon! We felt the transition from genteel Dunoon acutely. No hope of getting a drink as the pubs were so crowded, we headed on through towards New Lanark, gradually piecing together the fact that it was Lanimer Day, a very historic annual event (dating back to 1140) linked to beating the bounds of the ancient Royal Burgh (‘Land Marches’) and now serving as a general gala day. Everybody is involved, so as we headed out of town, it all became quiet, then quieter and, as we descended into New Lanark, quietest, apart from the constant reassuring rush of the tumbling Clyde.

First impressions of the World Heritage Site mill town was of amazing architecture, a good number of cars, but no people at all. It all felt vaguely Wicker Man, or like one of those post-apocalyptic movies where you wake up to find you are alone in the world …

The rushing waters give the clue to this place. All that natural hydropower could be put to good use, and was from 1786 to power cotton mills. The settlement includes homes for workers, due to the involvement of utopian philanthropist Robert Owen, one of the originators of the co-operative movement. The hotel is now actually in the main mill building.

Once indoors, we did find civilization, albeit cocooned from the outside world. A lovely room, directly overlooking the river, with Sand Martins swirling around in by now very pleasant sunshine. And lots of opportunity to explore the exterior of the stone buildings (all except the hotel closed because of Lanimer Day), the remarkable architecture bathed in light, throwing shadows as the sun started to set…

The mill and town are set within a lovely wooded landscape, clothing a really quite impressive rocky gorge. In part conifer plantation, in part old Oak and Beech, some with wonderfully gnarled roots and buttresses.

Mosses and ferns clothed the forest floor, that growth extending upward onto the boughs, in places luxuriantly coated with epiphytes.

There were of course other trees too, including flowering Laburnum (in a habitat resembling its native sites in European mountains), Bird Cherry (clad in the silken webs of Bird Cherry Ermine micromoths) and Guelder-rose nibbled to bits by Viburnum Beetle larvae.

The Falls of Clyde provided a whole series of dramatic glimpses of the fledgling river as we walked upstream from the mill, taking a leisurely approach to a walk that should only take an hour or so as the weather was sunny and warm(ish) for most of the day.

A Grey Heron waded in one section of the river, while a few Dippers and Grey Wagtails were feeding in the rapids. Jackdaws and Ravens made their presence known noisily, with Siskins wheezing and a few Spotted Flycatchers spotted flycatching.

The gorge and woodland had many interesting flowers. Closer to the town, there were lots of garden escapes (many of which are really useful for insects): Rock Crane’s-bill, Fox-and-cubs, Monkeyflower, Dame’s-violet and Masterwort.

Deeper into the nature reserve, native woodland plants predominated, including Foxglove, Water Avens, Welsh Poppy, Common Cow-wheat and Red Campion, the deep red flowers of the latter ‘undiluted’ by the genes of lowland White Campions.

And the best of the plants, ones that we are relatively or wholly unfamiliar with in Essex included Marsh Hawk’s-beard, Tuberous Comfrey and Bitter Vetch.

For the first time this summer we found ourselves in the presence of lots of galls. Most of them – those on Lime, Oak and Wych Elm – were common enough, but two were new to us and seemingly less frequent. On Bilberry the swollen reddened leaves are the result of infection by the fungus Exobasidium myrtilli, forming the blaeberry redleaf gall  while the red pimply paint-patches on Silver Birch were caused by the mite Acalitus longisetosus. According to the National Biodiversity Network atlas, this is not previously recorded from that part of Scotland, being concentrated in the Highlands and also very thinly scattered in England and Wales. It was present on only one tree that we found, but is certainly very distinctive.

And we also found the nature reserve to be a a great place for a selection of insects and other invertebrates.

Among these, there were a few edge-of-range species and and ones not not previously recorded from that part of Scotland, including the lace-bug Tachycixius pilosus and click-beetle Denticollis linearis …

… while a couple of dramatic highlights included a mating pair of Giant Craneflies and a Scorpion-fly Panorpa germanica tucking into a dance-fly.

Given that the hotel is the only feeding spot without a considerable uphill walk, the restaurant provided us with very reasonably priced and excellent sustenance. I especially enjoyed the salmon medley, (the smoked component with such a delicate smoky-sweet cure) and chicken supreme with smoked cheese stuffing, while Jude liked the creamed goats’ cheese and figs and the chickpea curry.

On our second morning after a good breakfast we were taken by electric minibus (as befits a World Heritage Site) through Lanark – now approaching normality! – to the station for the third part of our break, in Glasgow. Having lived with the sound of the tumbling Clyde for two days, its absence was almost deafening….

POSTSCRIPT

Only when we got home and started working through the photos, entering them onto irecord, and checking their known distributions on the NBN Atlas did we come to appreciate how few of the things we found have ever been recorded at this site before, indeed how few of them have any records on the NBN anywhere near to New Lanark. WE have therefore prepared a complete listing for the record (see here Falls of Clyde), which will be sent to the Scottish Wildlife Trust who own the reserve.

Some of these have been pointed out in the main blog (see Exobasidium myrtilli, Acalitus longisetosus, Tachycixius pilosus and Denticollis linearis above). But others were more surprising, not least because they are so obvious and frankly unmistakeable, such as Meadowsweet Rust, the galls on Lime, Elm and Oak, and the larvae and munchings of Viburnum Leaf-beetle.

And how about the Gold-barred Longhorn moth. Very familiar to we southerners, if the NBN is up to date, our record is some 60km further north than it has ever been recorded before. Distributional data and changes in distribution are one of the main sources of information we have to underpin conservation policy and practice, so my plea is for anyone who visits an unfamiliar area, don’t assume that all you see is commonplace or already known. Record it for posterity: every data point is a step towards a better future.

Tales of the Bonny Clyde: 1 – Dunoon & Benmore

Britain's Wildlife, Travel by Rail

June’s contribution of our ‘year of short breaks by train’ is likely to be the longest one of all, fittingly as it coincided with Jude’s birthday. Late afternoon we were drawing into Gourock in unsettled weather, a mix of sun, showers and cool northerly wind, pretty much par for the whole trip and indeed the whole of this Spring! The half-hour foot-ferry crossing to Dunoon made light of the choppy conditions, as we steamed past Gannets and Arctic Terns.

Quick check-in, and the sun was out, so a leg-stretch along West Bay was very much in order. The tide was out, providing feeding for Oystercatchers and Hooded Crows (really in Scotland now!), together with a few motley Carrion/Hoodie hybrids.

Eiders were swimming and loafing beyond the tideline, while the stony upper beach had flowering Sea Radish and Danish Scurvy-grass.

Around the pier, there were Rock Pipits feeding and singing, and patches of Orange-dot Lichen Protoblastenia rupestris (with its distinctive raised, rounded, orange fruiting bodies) on the pavements and walls.

And the tinkling whisper of ‘Goldcrest song’… but seaward?! It was persistent, but it took some time to realise that it was the courtship song of Black Guillemots, the most un-auk-like sound imaginable. And interestingly, the otherwise wonderful Merlin birdsong app either couldn’t hear it or didn’t recognise it.

In the churchyard, lichens on gravestones are always worth a look, especially in less-polluted westerly areas …

… and indeed older walls throughout the town provided botanical interest from Ivy-leaved Toadflax, to Maidenhair Spleenwort and Wall-rue, to Fairy Foxglove and New Zealand Willowherb.

Most of our one full day in the area was taken up with a visit to the outstanding Benmore Botanic Garden, an outpost of the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh. In theory it was easily accessed by bus, although Argyll & Bute Council/West Coast Motors had changed the timetable a couple of days earlier – without changing the timetables at the bus-stops or online. We turned up at the bus-stop ‘ahead of time’ only to see the bus departing  into the distance., with the next one due in two hours. Clyde Taxis to the rescue, but a pretty poor show from the providers of public transport we thought.

Situated in the mountains, and indeed running up some pretty steep slopes, Benmore Garden has lots to interest any gardener or naturalist.

First the birdsong: Chaffinches everywhere and several Willow Warblers, respectively ‘going’ and ‘gone’ from our south-eastern haunts. A female Red Deer watched us watching it, and a fleeting Red Squirrel skittered along a trackside trying to avoid unleashed dogs.

From avenues of Giant Redwoods to mature plantings of numerous Rhododendron species and cultivars, together with numerous Southern Hemisphere shrubs and trees, the garden pays testament to the plant hunters of the past and its relatively mild situation encompassed by the Gulf Stream warmed waters of the Firth of Clyde.

Exotic perennial plantings too, the like of which we can only dream of in the (normally)  arid plains of Essex:

All of the cultivated delights are alongside a wonderful array of native mosses and liverworts, ferns, lichens and flowering plants:

As always we focused upon the tiny creatures, which included nymphal Forest Bugs, a range of planthoppers and mirid bugs, barklice and snipe-flies. And while there were some, fortunately not too many midges for comfort…

Benmore really exceeded our expectations, and throughout the day, we managed to avoid the showers wholly either in the garden café or the pubs back in Dunoon! A final word must go to food (always a focus of our trips). We ate outstanding evening meals at both the Lorne and Tryst, the former having perhaps better atmosphere and service. Cullen Skink at the Lorne was actually bettered by smoked haddock chowder at Tryst, but salmon pate, mushroom and leek gnocchi and black-pudding and haggis bonbons (Lorne) and lamb shoulder and vegetable lasagne (Tryst) also scored highly. And the Lorne’s uplifting pairing of mashed turnip and peppercorn sauce was simply inspired.

It was good to return to Dunoon, despite the cool weather, but after a couple of nights it was away, back across the Firth, to uncharted lands for us around the upper reaches of the Clyde …