April
25th,
2018
Cloudy
morning with brief sunshine followed by light and then heavy rain for
the whole afternoon with thunder and lightning, cool.
Up
at 5:30 a.m. Well I have set my alarm on my mobile to that time to
give me the choice of up and bird or breakfast and write up a few
notes. Today I choose the latter having been disturbed by two
drinking men who decided that the door step outside my house is one
where they want to have their boozy one o'clock in the morning chat!
6:00
a.m. is sounded across the village by a Big Ben-style bell, a
recording played out over a loudspeaker that gives the phrase a soft
digital tone. It is quiet outside and cool inside. I have breakfast
and find out via the internet on my phone that Aston Villa won 4 –
0 away to Ipswich last Saturday. What day is it today? Oh, Wednesday.
OK.
Breakfast
is a round sort of biscuit come cake affair which is munchy, sweet
and orange coloured inside. I have no idea what it is or what it is
made of but it is tasty enough. A real bell tolls repeatedly at 7:15.
Time to get out there. The faithful might be going to Mass, the
children will be going to school but I will be heading out to the
hills.
In
fact I change my mind. The weather is rather cool and I decide I need
a cup of coffee. The cafe down the road provides a large mug of very
milky, not much coffee, very sweet liquid and two cheese rolls for
six soles, around £1.50. A TV is on and I watch and laugh at a
couple of Peruvian adverts. The first is one for the mobile phone and
internet company Claro. It features a smiling Spanish-looking lady
dancing with others in an airport departures area and their faces
make me laugh as the routine develops. It seems that there is a
flight offer available with Latam, a Peruvian airline company, if you
use Claro. The other advert that makes me laugh is one where another
young woman has a ventriloquists dummy that is the image of her. I
have no idea what they are selling.
Being
alone in the cafe I change channels. Most of them are news channels
with a couple of football channels and one each for Animal Planet and
Disney. A music channel features a huge concert somewhere played to
an audience of tens of thousands. The singer is a male, around thirty
I would say and his music is 'amor.' The first song starts with a
gentle piano intro, intensely played and as the vocals begin an
acoustic guitar playing sliding notes. There are two attractive woman
accompanying the male vocalist and another man who adds electric
guitar. There is a drummer somewhere on stage but I can't see him
amongst the lights and dry ice smog. These performers, other than the
pianist, are sitting together on steps centre stage. I wonder who he
is? Obviously massively popular in the Latin world as the audience
sing along with every song and cheer appreciatively at the intro of
each. I wonder where this immense stadium is and worry that it may be
a Spanish bullfighting one. Yesterday I saw a small bullfighting
stadium in the village here but it looked unused and there was only a
donkey in it and some green-coloured, manure-filled water collected
in one corner. Shame on the lone donkey, others had company in a
field nearby and were chasing each other in fun.
Out
to bird, I walk through the village. Everyone I pass says “Hola!”
or Buenas.” Everyone. A Tryrian Metaltail is very close as I come
around a corner, Rufous-collared Sparrows seem to be everywhere and
the tranquillity of the valley pervades. Everyone seems at peace and
has a role in the village, be it farmer, mother, child. A tiny, hat
bedecked Incan lady is carrying a large bunch of flowers; dahlias and
the like. She asks me where am I going? I reply as best I can, “up
the hills to look for birds.” “I am going to the cemetery.” She
replies.
The
dirt track that leads up sways one way and then the next and my walk
is slow, not because I am two miles up but because at last there are
a lot of birds. The extra moisture up here at this altitude, the
afternoons of rain, has brought grassy enclosures and three-leafed
clover masses. There are denser bushes and taller Eucalyptus trees.
There is bird song and reasons to stop.
No
body else is going my way. I have the track to myself.
A
Black-throated
Flowerpecker
has my attention. Today is an eBird counting day and my notebook is
frequently used as bird names go down and tally marks add up.
Rufous-collared Sparrows and Sparkling Violetears soon have gates of
five tallies. Giant Hummingbirds and Mourning Sierra Finches, House
Wrens and Cinereous Conebills, Rusty-bellied Bush Finches and
Greenish Yellow Finches soon have tallies too.
A new bird is on the
track, a Plumbeous
Sierra Finch,
small and grey, is pecking and shuffling around. Another new bird for
the Green list is sitting on a rock above me, announcing his
availability to all who will hear. A 'dry accelerating, decelerating
trill,' the Birds of Peru book tells me later. The plump bird is a
fabulous looking Stripe-headed Antpitta.
What a name!
A
bush that seems no different to any other in this montane scrub has a
number of birds in it and as some leave, others take up positions.
Two Golden-billed
Saltators
had drawn my attention to this magic bush but as they leave a
Creamy-breasted
Canestero
takes their place with a male Hooded Siskin and a Rusty-crowned
Tit-spinetail!
The
view over the village from this vantage point shows that the majority
have roves made of corrugated iron. To the left there are terraced,
small fields of clover and mustard; food for the livestock and
nitrogen fixers for the soil. A small area of a strictly lined crop
seems to be potatoes at this distance. From here I can see the
cemetery with its concrete boxes of six and four. One block of boxes
has a red tiled roof and a cross.
A
Black Metaltail sits still as I admire it with it's pale blue throat
and long, rounded metaltail with a tiny white spot of a few feathers
behind it's beady, black eye.
The
village across the valley to the west sends a couple of flares up
that bang loudly, the sound echoing. A procession of fifteen men,
some wearing hats bedecked with large, colourful flowers, one
carrying a flag, are walking along one of the horizontal tracks. Two
are carrying shovels. As with many things today, I wonder why? An
hour later they have moved further up the valley and they let off two
more exploding flares.
Turning
a corner as the track goes higher and higher, a few small fields with
their dry stone wall surroundings have a good number of male, female
and juvenile Mourning Sierra Finches.
These stocky birds look
impressive. The females look like plump Lapland Buntings and the
males have bright yellow bills and large black bibs. Occasionally a
male will take up a station on top of a cactus and give a un-bird
like bzzzz call. As for the walls, each is topped by a line of cactus
acting as broken glass does to stop access. Some of these cacti are
three foot or so high. I wonder whether one can tell the age of a
wall by the size of the cacti, as with the age of a hedgerow in
Britain being told by the number of flower species associated with
it?
Two
Black-winged Ground Doves allow me to get so close that I can see all
their features well, including the tiny yellow spot of skin beneath
the eye.
As I look at them a Spot-billed
Ground Tyrant
hops around on the road. Following the doves carefully I walk along
the edge of the road and an Andean Tinamou shows itself briefly.
Working out which way it was walking I wait and get photographs. Onto
the Green list it can now go properly, evidence is collected.
A
Variable Hawk flies over and as I scan the hill tops I see five
Andean Condors soaring. Nearby an Oasis Hummingbird lands.
Light
rain starts to fall and from the look of the situation up the valley
it will get heavier. I turn and start to descend. A Giant Thrush us
doing what thrushes do, collecting worms, is the last bird to go on
the day list.
Back
in my little room, the rain starts to pour outside and develops into
a thunderstorm. The storm doesn't last long but the rain continues
until five.
The
evening is spent shopping first. Gloves and bin liners for the coming
weather in the High Andes and fruit, juices, water, biscuits and
biscuit-cakes for sustenance. A large bag full of provisions for 43
soles. Into the next door cafe with the same proprietor, Elise. I sit
alone and a dish full of delicious stew come soup arrives. I haven't
asked for anything and it seems that a standard menu is provided. The
stew contains potatoes, tubular pasta, chicken pieces and a piece of
kidney. A separate dish of red chilli is declined. A number of men
arrive for meals and one, Hose, speaks English. Hose tells me that he
used to live in the US but has come home to Peru and Huanza. Hose is
Elise's son and he sits with me for a while advising me on where a
beautiful round trip of the area could be done by bus and taxi. One
for the future, we exchange contact details. Another dish arrives
with diced carrots, potatoes and meat. Another delicious meal to
devour. The men put an over-dubbed CSI episode onto the TV.
Now
I have seen snow-capped mountains in the last two days, albeit
distantly but in the direction I am going. Now I beginning to think
that, as I am two weeks behind my planned itinerary, I may miss out
Junin and, once my peak of 15,000 feet is reached, head instead for
Juaja. It would be a shame to miss out on the large Andean lake with
it's endemic Junin Grebe but Winter is starting here and the lower
Andean slopes will be warmer. Whatever the decision I take once I
reach the peak, nothing can take away how challenging and exciting
this adventure is.
Green
Year list : 141 birds average new birds to list per day : 5.64
birds
Distance
walked : 2.51 miles
elevation
up : 849 feet, down : 849 feet
highest
altitude today : 11,738 feet
