Buenas
Dias!
Well, this morning I will have great pleasure . . . .
but
first I have to do the blog!
For
those who may be new to my blog, I know that today is October the
fifth but due to a number of factors, mostly a lack of internet
within The Manu national Park, I could not keep up the daily blog
describing my adventures.
To
those who read yesterday's blog, I humbly apologise for starting in
the same vein!
"You're so vane, you probably think this blog is about you!"
Sorry,
I am in a wonderful mood today. Birds are flying high in the sky
outside my bedroom here in Lima, Peru; Black Vultures {!}, Belcher's
Gulls and Parakeets. Scrub Blackbirds are being as noisy as ever with
their electric calls and West Peruvian Doves are saying “please be
quiet” with their dove tones that would be familiar to doves around
the world.
A
sleepness night with Mary Poppins and Ken Dodd on Youtube, with a
George Monbiot article on Plastic and Consumerism studied and the
links read and collated for further perusal. I am buzzing!
Happiness,
happiness is a clean beach, without the mess! I think we all should
take a rest, from buying crap stuff. That would be the best!
Obviously,
as I said yesterday, yet maybe you weren't here, you now know I
survived the six month Biking Birder Peruvian adventure over The
Andes by frog . . . I mean by bicycle and river by packraft!
What
follows over the next 74 days, well to Christmas anyway, will be a
daily update as though we are back together in July of this year. Day
by day I will post my diary as though it is still happening. Together
we will share the thrills, the splendour of nature and the terrors.
Oh yes, there were days of terror but those few moments were outshone
by days of such magnificence that dark clouds were obliterated by
nature's beauty.
So
please read and imagine . . . .
Oh,
and please, PLEASE if you could make a donation to Birdlife
International as you read I would be more over the Moon than I
already am! Neil, I am coming to see you.
Two
wonderful, marvellous, beautiful, fabulous people, well three
actually if one counts Lizzy and Jack, superb Mother and Son
combination as two instead of one and a half, did so yesterday,
taking my total raised for Birdlife International to near a thousand
pounds!
A
million thank yous to Val, Lizzy and five hundred thousand to Jack!
Thank
you and love to you all,
Be
Green.
Gary
xxx
Hi ho, Hi ho, It's a birding I will go . . .
Off to the fabulous Los Pantanos de Villa nature reserve for the day to be filmed by PromPeru! Brilliant!
I adore Los Pantanos de Villa!
2nd
July, 2018
Very
sunny, breezy PM
The
day of the last big push, I am ready and the bike and rucksack are
heavy with the food I will need for the days that I will be birding
along the famous Manu Road, the day's when I am not staying at
lodges. I have five days away from lodges that I need food for before
I reach the next village, Chontachaka. So loaded up I set off along a
dirt road that goes down the river valley.
At
the five kilometre post the road divides. The road I need forks right
and slopes upwards, the push begins. Tall Eucalyptus trees are with
me for the first few kilometres and then, as the road gains height,
the vegetation changes to bushes and flowering shrubs. There is a
local pushing a bike just ahead of me and as his is unladen he goes
faster and soon disappears.
A
flock! Panic time as I try to see all the birds and they don't want
me to see them. They flit from bushes and dive into the next one with
rapid motion and I can see leaves and twigs moving from where they
are hiding. Occasional glimpses, Rufous-collared Sparrows!
I
continue and the road, with it's rocky, bumpy, dusty surface makes
the push hard and laborious. The views though compensate and the
occasional stop for a rest allows me to realise how incredibly
beautiful this part of the world is. The hills are old grass green as
the dry season has taken away the verdant colour of the Austral
summer and replaced it with this yellowish carpet. Crops are dry too
yet there are occasional rows of green, potatoes and red, quinoa.
Looking ahead, as the road turns around a corner, I can see that
there are a series of large valleys that have eaten into the hillside
and each have a long section of road on the south before a turn,
usually over a concrete ford with a small stream. Then there is the
long push on the north side and the road continues gaining height to
the next corner. With each valley I hope that the next corner will
turn out to be the last and that I will see where the highest point
of the road is. This last summit will be the last summit of my Andean
adventure. I will have crossed The Andes and it will be downhill all
the way to Amazonia from that point. Michael Palin and Terry Jones
would tell me that I should have brought a large cuddly rainforest
frog with me on the bike, like the one that came with me on all of my
United Kingdom Biking Birder adventures named Sid. The Monty Python
pair wrote a book called Ripping Yarns and made a TV series of the
same, or vice versa. One of the tales was of an intrepid skit on
Victorian adventurers called, Across The Andes by Frog. Well, I have
crossed The Andes by bike. Actually I haven't seen a frog . . . yet!
I
am amazed by how quiet the road has been vehicle-wise. I had imagined
that there would be lorries and minibuses full of locals and tourists
but no. I actually count and record what passes me. Eleven minibuses,
two lorries, a single motorbike and a car. In five hours just fifteen
vehicles, I should have recorded how many gave a friendly honk on the
horn or a wave and how many had wound down the window to shut Hola,
Buena dias or buenos tardes. The only car is on a serious mission. It
has a large white coffin in the back, protruding from beneath the
open hatchback door that is tied by rope to the bumper. I have no
idea whether the coffin is occupied!
The
river by now, after a number of these long valley stretches, is far
below and the village of Challabamba can be seen with it's large
number of small square houses. I reach a point where the river veers
off along a valley to the left and the valley I am following is drier
and has less trees. The road turns around one last corner and after
one last push I am there, kilometre twenty, the top. I stop for a
celebratory drink of pseudo coca cola and look around me. The habitat
is one of dry puna grass and very few trees. Just to emphasis the
point, a Mountain Caracara flies overhead with it's pattern of black
and white plumage. The road now is horizontal to the hill and I can
at last pedal. The views though are magnificent and for the first
time ever I can actually see for miles all around me. Every other
time I have been along this wonderful, famous Manu Road it has been
shrouded by cloud, hidden from my eyes. Yet I know than in just a few
miles I will enter the Manu National Park, the park's buffer zone and
from there it will be a long descent into the cloud forest and with
it lots of new birds.
The
Manu, I am at the border with it's derelict buildings and large
signs, with its pathways and large banner over the road announcing
the start of the most biodiverse national park in the world! I am
going to enjoy the next three months.
I
look around each of the buildings. All of them are empty, some are
old and some are new. One is a partially constructed large barn. The
old ones are small, long rectangular wooden buildings with open
doors. Looking inside each one it is clear that they haven't been
occupied for a number of years yet there are still the signs of when
people did live here. A stone fireplace is in the corner of one large
room with metal cooking pots covered in dust and soot still there.
Another dusty room still has a table and a broken chair. The new
building is superb and has a few large photographs and information
posters on the wall. Yet it is devoid of furniture and locked.
I
follow a grassy pathway through some low bushes and find an obelisk.
Upon it is a bust of a European man and a plaque dedicated to Dr Sven
Errikson. Now the England football manager of an ill fated World Cup
campaign had that name, maybe no the doctor bit, but this Sven is
famed for having . . . . . .
The
view from this vantage point really is awe inspiring, intersecting
hills that are all covered with the dark green of cloud forest and a
long valley leading to a cloud covered lowland in the far distance. A
huge area that I know I will start to descend into tomorrow. I decide
to camp here and erect the tent. Once that is done I go off and
explore the area. Great Thrush and Cinnamon Flycatchers are along a
dirt road that leads to a small roundabout with a tall flagpole. The
Peruvian flag flutters and flaps noisily in the breeze.
I
can see two small ponds in a depression near to some occupied wooden
huts. I push through some scratchy bushes to see what birds might be
on them and fabulously find an adult Least Grebe. In the fading light
I watch as it dives and emerges just as any Little Grebe would do in
Britain. The bird's neck seems longer though and the contrast of the
blackish crown and the greyer face is pronounced. Now this really is
a special bird to find at this altitude and the frustration of not
having a working camera is compounded here. This is one bird that I
would love to have photographic evidence for.
Green
Year list : 276 birds
average new birds to list per day : 2.97
birds
altitude
: 11,388 feet
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