Sri Lanka

January 22nd to February 4th 2004

Report: Ian Hodgson

Systematic List: John van der Dol

Participants: Sue Cook, Graham Crick, Gaynor Cross, John van der Dol and Fran Boreham, Mike Gill,
Ian Hodgson, Jim Law, Alan and Sandy Roman, Sheila Seed, Brian Short.

"I don’t know why more Americans don’t visit Sri Lanka. The food was very good.
We managed to avoid curry almost every day."
An American, writing in a trip report on the Internet.

Jan.22nd

14 hours after leaving London, we touched down in Colombo, making a welcome re-acquaintance (for those of us who were at the 2003 Bird Fair) with Amila Salgado, our guide for the next two weeks. We headed for a well-deserved rest at our first hotel and although six Eurasian Thick-knees stopped us for a while at a park near the airport, we soon rejoined the mêlée of Colombo’s morning rush hour, the traffic mostly driving on the left in horn-blaring, tangled confusion. The attendant blur of Buddhist stupas and shrines mingled with the more familiar artefacts of Christianity, rough-and-tumble roadside shops and obligatory advertising hoardings, some in Arabic script, some in the looping script of Sinhala. Like twisted coat hangers hung like washing on wires, close inspection reveals a more amphibious quality, some characters recalling frogs, others Toby Jug frogs and frogs in mustard pots.

It was difficult to avoid the feeling that the very plush Galadari Hotel was a touch inappropriate, particularly as a wedding reception with all its trimmings greeted our arrival, the photographer arranging the bride with the eternal precision of a White-tailed Plover and bridesmaids and guests looking resplendent, while we looked and felt like extras from a Bruce Willis post-devastation film set.

Still, ‘tis wondrous what lunch can do, and we metamorphosed brightly into the afternoon and our first birding excursion of the trip, to Talangama Tank, on the outskirts of the city, where many of us supped our first Sri Lankan birds, then tea and cakes at a rest house overlooking the lily-covered lake. Though the similarity to Goa was striking, the abundance of Cotton Pygmy-geese and Yellow and Black Bitterns, with full-tailed Pheasant-tailed Jacanas, Spot-billed Pelicans and Forest Wagtails flying to roost underlined that we were somewhere very different.

Highlights:
Little and Indian Cormorants, Spot-billed Pelican; Yellow and Black Bitterns, Asian Openbill, Black-headed Ibis, Lesser Whistling Duck, Cotton Pygmy-goose, Brahminy Kite, White-bellied Sea-eagle, Shikra, Purple Swamphen, Pheasant-tailed Jacana, Eurasian Thick-knee; Pacific Golden and Red-wattled Plovers, Whiskered Tern, Spotted Dove, Alexandrine Parakeet; Stork-billed, White-throated, Pied and Common Kingfishers, Blue-tailed Bee-eater, Forest Wagtail; Red-vented and White-browed Bulbuls, Zitting Cisticola, Plain Prinia, Asian Paradise Flycatcher; Purple-rumped and Loten’s Sunbirds, Black-hooded Oriole, Brown Shrike, White-bellied Drongo, Black-headed Munia.

Jan.23rd

Well, it’s good to get a good night’s sleep after a long journey, but no such luck. Instead we were up at 4.45 to begin our tour of this lush, green island that lies at the tip of the Indian subcontinent. Passing rice paddies and date palms we headed for the forest at Bodhinagala, a small tract of secondary lowland rain forest south-east of Colombo, where Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot became the first of Sri Lanka’s endemics to succumb to our prying eyes. The lovely crimson race of Black-rumped Flameback and the local race (or endemic if you follow the Ceylon Bird Club’s view) of Black-crested Bulbul competed for our attention with Velvet-fronted Nuthatches, Brown-headed Barbets, Black-naped Monarch, Crested Treeswifts and a Tickell’s Blue Flycatcher, while nosy gangs of Black-fronted Babblers tried to pretend they weren’t looking at us and a couple of handsome Sri Lanka Junglefowl made it two endemics for the day thus far.

We progressed steadily through the hot and humid forest in search of the endemic Green-billed Coucal, but the dry litter on the forest floor made it difficult to move inconspicuously and it was some time and a couple of diversions before Amila heard one calling close to the track. Hearing and seeing are two entirely different kettles of coucals, however, and although we were very close to one for some time, only a couple of us managed good views as it flew into view in low vegetation near a clump of bamboo and almost immediately down again on to the forest floor and out of sight. However, almost immediate compensation came in the form of a party of Sri Lanka Grey Hornbills, endemic to the island, some red-faced, almost embarrassed-looking Toque Macaques and impressive Giant Squirrels. We wove our way steadily back to the bus and to lunch, passing Crested Serpent Eagle and Oriental Honey-buzzard on the way, and a perched Besra that gave almost as much cause for deliberation than the average case of multiple fraud in the High Court before it was adjudged guilty.

Moving on eastward, we arrived beneath the imposing forested ridges of Sinharaja in late afternoon. Piling into jeeps for the rickety journey up the rutted forest track, we stopped as a bunch of Orange-billed Babblers hove into view and quickly added our first Layard’s Parakeets and Legge’s Flowerpecker at the same spot; three more endemics, making no fewer than seven for the day – eight if you count the Black-crested Bulbul, still regarded as an endemic race by the Field Ornithological Group of Sri Lanka (FOGSL in future to save on depletion of the world’s forests).

Martin’s Simple Lodge is, well, simple. Fortunately, his insects are also of a similar persuasion and we saw no mosquitoes in our well-ventilated rooms, nothing more linguistically complicated than fly or flea being allowed in. The basic nature of the lodge was to be more than compensated for by its proximity to the forest, saving a long drive from the nearest town and the dreadful last leg up the track. The food was good and, frankly, we were all so tired by now that sleep was a foregone conclusion for most of us, especially after liberal helpings of arrack and soda.

Highlights:

Oriental Honey-buzzard, Crested Serpent Eagle, Besra, Sri Lanka Junglefowl, Emerald Dove, Green Imperial Pigeon, Sri Lanka Hanging Parrot, Layard’s Parakeet, Green-billed Coucal, Crested Treeswift, Chestnut-headed Bee-eater, Sri Lanka Grey Hornbill, Brown-headed Barbet, Black-rumped Flameback; Black-crested, Yellow-browed and Black Bulbuls, Blue-winged Leafbird, Common Iora, Oriental Magpie Robin, Tickell’s Blue Flycatcher, Black-naped Monarch; Dark-fronted and Orange-billed Babblers, Velvet-fronted Flowerpecker, Legge’s Flowerpecker, Oriental White-eye, Scaly-breasted Munia.

Jan.24th

Sinharaja is probably Sri Lanka’s most important reserve, internationally significant for its biodiversity and encompassing some of its few remaining tracts of undisturbed primary lowland rainforest. We made the most of our on-site accommodation, rising early to catch the first Black Bulbuls of the day as they perched noisily on bamboo stems outside the lodge and our first Sri Lanka Blue Magpies, moving rather furtively about the branches below. As we enjoyed the waking morning from the road above the lodge, the sun rose slowly in the cleft between ridges, breaking into a beautiful dawn, full of Scarlet Minivets, Yellow-fronted Barbets and Crested Drongos.

Dropping down the access road from the lodge, we were soon enjoying wonderful views of Malabar Trogons and our first Spot-winged Thrush, Brown-breasted Flycatcher and Large-billed Leaf Warbler, the latter distinctively tail-flicking in the undergrowth not unlike a fantail. Moving up and on, along the wide and sandy trail that runs from the lodge through the forest, this was the first encounter for many of us with the terrestrial leech. Although the little devils were largely confined to the low leafy vegetation at the trail edges it was not long before everyone realised that we had been provided with leech socks for good reason. Still, we progressed watchfully, flushing a Cinnamon Bittern from fields below us, and after a fairly quiet spell with few feeding flocks in evidence, two Indian Scimitar-babblers and an Oriental Dwarf Kingfisher that flashed across the trail in front of us. Diligent work located the tiny pink and blue apparition in the forest and everyone was treated to excellent views as it sat in quiet contemplation of its dappled, shadowy world.

The forest trail was also alive with spectacular butterflies. Above us, paper-thin Ceylon Tree Nymphs drifted flimsily over the treetops and great Ceylon Birdwings sailed across clearings, while lower down Blue Glassy Tigers and striped Clippers flitted across the trails, Grass Yellows danced along the verges and the warm brown eye on the closed wing of a Glad-eye Bushbrown peered back evenly at whatever it might distract.

The morning ended with fabulous views of a male Sri Lanka Frogmouth, incubating what appeared to be a fluffy white chick in a shallow lichen-lined nest on a narrow branch and Graham and Brian demonstrated their digi-scoping skills, producing some memorable images of this enigmatic and much sought-after species.

Thunder rolled about us throughout a hot and humid afternoon, but it remained more or less dry as we headed into the forest around the research station after finding a couple of White-faced Starlings in the trees above the trail. A party of Ashy-headed Laughingthrushes slipped unobtrusively through low vegetation in the enclosed and rather gloomy forest, then careful work by Amila and some patience from the rest of us allowed excellent views of a Scaly Thrush, close to another Spot-winged Thrush on the forest floor. Very different from the much shorter billed individuals some of us have seen in Nepal and China, it has more in common with Dark-sided and Long-billed Thrushes and provoked a good deal of discussion on the subject of splitting and lumping. At least six Sri Lanka Blue Magpies were clambering about at the rear of the research station cookhouse as we stopped for tea and, emerging into the open, we found a couple of groups of Sri Lanka Mynas, making a total of six more endemic species today.

Back at the lodge, we discovered that Sheila had interrogated Martin Wijesinghe at length over lunch, discovering his skills as an accomplished field biologist, to the extent that he has an endemic species of yam named after him. Still sounds like a leg-spinner to me, though.

Highlights:

Cinnamon Bittern, Pompadour Green Pigeon, Sri Lanka Frogmouth, Indian Swiftlet, Brown-backed Needletail, Malabar Trogon, Oriental Dwarf Kingfisher, Yellow-fronted Barbet, Lesser Yellownape, Scarlet Minivet; Spot-winged and Scaly Thrushes; Greenish and Large-billed Leaf Warblers; Brown-breasted and Asian Brown Flycatchers, Indian Scimitar-babbler, Ashy-headed Laughingthrush, Pale-billed Flowerpecker, Crested Drongo, Sri Lanka Blue Magpie, White-faced Starling, Sri Lanka Myna.

Jan.25th

Missing Red-faced Malkoha from yesterday’s list of endemics, we made fairly rapid ground (for a change) along the main forest trail to a patch of high forest, close to a fish-filled pool, where I saw the species on my previous visit. Amila soon heard a couple calling and we were soon enjoying prolonged views as they moved about the trees above, with two more Malabar Trogons close by and, for some of the group, a party of Sri Lanka Spurfowl crossing the track. Several more malkohas and Crested Drongos later and it was time to go, so we bade farewell to Martin and his Simple Insects, clattered down the access road one more time and rejoined our bus to head back into the dry zone once again.

Our goal was Udawalawe NP, a mix of abandoned teak plantation, grassland and scrub jungle, roughly half way to our next destination at Yala NP. Dark clouds decorating the hills we had just left, Black Eagle and Black-shouldered Kite over the grassy lowlands, villages with small shops and waving children in bright sunshine, people standing and talking on a bright Sunday morning; just some of the images along the way. In fact, we had some time to take them in, as the journey proved to be particularly convoluted as a result of road works and diversions, confirming the general impression that in Sri Lanka time is more of an illusion than in most other places; lunchtime doubly so.

We eventually reached Udawalawe at 4pm, boarding jeeps for a drive into the open savannah with its wonderful backdrop of serried hills, stretching away towards the pinnacle of Adam’s Peak that we would see again from the north in a few days time. Wind in our hair, we set out past Malabar Pied Hornbills in the scattered trees, Rufous-winged Bushlarks and Paddyfield Pipits on the dusty track and a female Pallid Harrier drifting over the open grass; redolent of an African landscape that added to the list of images rapidly accumulating from this land of constant surprises. Grey-bellied Cuckoo and Black-headed Cuckoo-shrike in low branches, lovely Orange-breasted Green Pigeons, Ashy and Jungle Prinias and a party of Tawny-bellied Babblers in trackside bushes and a Blue-faced Malkoha moving away from us into deep cover, then a Pied Cuckoo and our first Indian Pitta, low down in the undergrowth. All were eagerly digested as the afternoon wore on and white clouds nestled in the valleys of the hills that overlook the plain, the last pink lines of daylight diminishing into a beautiful sunset, illuminating the cone of Adam’s Peak beneath the leaden sky.

We arrived at TASKS jungle camp well after dark and the chance to chill out over a beer was most welcome. It had been a long day.

Highlights:
Pallid Harrier, Black Eagle, Changeable Hawk-eagle, Sri Lanka Spurfowl, Orange-breasted Green Pigeon, Plum-headed Parakeet; Pied and Grey-bellied Cuckoos; Blue-faced and Red-faced Malkohas, Green Bee-eater, Indian Roller, Malabar Pied Hornbill, Indian Pitta, Rufous-winged Bushlark, Paddyfield Pipit, Black-headed Cuckooshrike, Indian Robin; Ashy, Grey-breasted and Jungle Prinias; Tawny-bellied and Yellow-eyed Babblers, White-rumped Munia.

Jan.26th

TASKS jungle camp lies about 35km south-east of Udawalawe, and we spent the morning in the camp and the surrounding scrub and secondary growth that recalled the camp at Chitwan in Nepal, where several of us were only a year ago. An Orange-headed Ground Thrush in the camp grounds was possibly taken too lightly by those of us who have seen it on numerous occasions in Goa, but it proved to be the only one of the trip, while White-browed Fantail, White-rumped Shama, Besra, Oriental Honey-buzzard, Small Minivet and at least four Indian Pittas were seen between us.

A Jungle Owlet appeared in the trees above one of the huts before we moved on from the camp towards our next base at Yala NP, where we would spend the next three nights in the hope of seeing the park’s speciality, leopard, of which there are probably 35 in an area comprising 14,000 hectares. On the way, we stopped at the tanks at Pannegamuwa and Weerawila, finding Watercock and Gull-billed and Little Terns at the first and, as it began to rain, a large flock of Garganey and Black-tailed Godwits, Caspian Tern, Yellow-wattled Lapwing, Greater and Lesser Sandplovers, Oriental Skylarks and Painted Storks at the second.

We arrived at Yala in time for lunch and an afternoon jeep drive, during which it was overcast with heavy rain. The richness of the park was immediately apparent as we ticked off Great Thick-knee, Eurasian Spoonbill, several Indian Pittas, Barred Buttonquail, a large flock of Rosy Starlings, with a few Brahminy Starlings nearby, a superb Black-necked Stork and a rain-drenched Sirkeer Malkoha, just about identifiable as it wiggled away into tree near the track. Some excellent mammals included numerous Black-naped Hares, the ubiquitous Black-faced Langur, Indian Grey and Stripe-necked Mongooses and a male Elephant with magnificent tusks, just a few yards from us at the track edge. Large groups of Spotted Deer and a quite magnificent stag Sambar left us well satisfied with an excellent introduction to this excellent place.

Until the evening log, that is.

In one of those unforgettable moments of timing, like Donald Pleasance reading Edgar Allan Poe, as we came to the end of the mammals section, Fran announced that she, Sandy, Alan and Sheila had been the crew in the jeep that had seen a Leopard. Yes, a Leopard. A Leopard? Yes, a Leopard.

Highlights:
Painted and Black-necked Storks, Eurasian Spoonbill, Garganey, Barred Buttonquail, Watercock, Great Thick-knee; Lesser and Greater Sandplovers, Yellow-wattled Plover; Gull-billed and Caspian Terns, Sirkeer Malkoha, Jungle Owlet, Oriental Skylark, Small Minivet, White-rumped Shama, White-browed Fantail, Thick-billed Flowerpecker; Brahminy and Rosy Starlings.

Jan.27th

Our game drive was in the morning today, though it has to be said that many of us were pretty tired and things meandered on somewhat, to rocky outcrops and likely areas where leopards might be found, though the nearest we got to the magic beast was feeding our sausages (in the vegetarian packed breakfast!) to a couple of cats by the beach. We added a couple of Yellow-crowned Woodpeckers, Woolly-necked Stork, Drongo Cuckoo, Grey-headed Fish-eagle and a few Indian Silverbills and returned for lunch, prior to leaving for Bundala in the afternoon.

Three Jackals crossed our paths as we left Yala (if black cats mean good luck, what does that mean; ten years of shoplifting?), but lunch did not help the soporific effect of our luxurious accommodation and we drifted around the ponds and pans of Bundala until woken by an excellent tern flock, in which Great and Lesser Crested Terns stood side by side with others of a Caspian, Little and Whiskered persuasion. Amila waxed lyrical at a party of five Sand Martins, a good record for Sri Lanka, and we spent some time over a whirling flock of marsh terns that included two White-winged Blacks, both tatty individuals in a plumage unfamiliar to any of us.

Decamping in late afternoon to a palm grove at Tissamaharama, where we had tried unsuccessfully for White-naped Woodpecker a couple of days before, we were treated to excellent views of at least one in the trees above the track, as well as some puzzled looks from the locals, probably wondering what all the coconut-spotting was about.
And so to bed, as fireflies danced along the beach ...........

Highlights:
Woolly-necked Stork, Grey-headed Fish-eagle, Grey-headed Gull; Great and Lesser Crested Terns, White-winged Black Tern, Drongo Cuckoo; Yellow-crowned and White-naped Woodpeckers, Baya weaver, Indian Silverbill.

Jan.28th

Our rehabilitation was completed by a late breakfast (well, it’s all relative, we were earlier than any of the other punters) and a walk along the beach, passing Grey-bellied Cuckoo, Indian Pitta and White-rumped Shama, until Amila, playing his cards very close to his chest, surprised us with three gorgeous Small Pratincoles at a rolling, gravelly section of the beach. For me, these gentle little creatures have magical connotations, from the evocative location where I first encountered them, on sandbars in the Mekong between Thailand and Laos, to ghostly apparitions flying with soft, fluid quietness over green paddies on late Goan afternoons. Here, though, on the stark, bare gravelly humps of a Sri Lankan beach, were the best views I have ever had.

Several of us, names have been omitted to protect the innocent, decamped to the hotel swimming pool prior to our afternoon jeep ride and our last chance of seeing the big cat. Our driver gave it a good shot, arriving back at the camp gates well after the deadline of 7pm and attracting a good deal of flak in the process, but we were not to see leopard on this trip. We probably knew the outcome in advance – Yala might be a great place to see it, but it remains an elusive animal and, like all cats, you get what they want to give you and when they feel like giving it, all of which preserves its mystique, of course. The 5½ hours of being mercilessly bumped about did have its compensations, however, none better than a herd of elephants with two calves, protected from their inquisitiveness by the surrounding adults, while birds included Indian Nightjar, Watercock, Grey-headed Fish-eagle and a party of 31 European Bee-eaters, which would have been a tick for Amila had he been in the right jeep.

Highlights:
Small Pratincole, Indian Nightjar, European Bee-eater.

Jan.29th

Departing from Yala after breakfast we called in at Palatupana saltpans, where highlights included a full house of terns and seven pale, streaked Red-rumped Swallows of the Himalayan race H.d.nipalensis, very different from the brick-red Sri Lankan H.d.hyperythra – all credit again to Amila for his unflagging interest in pointing out variations in species that helped make our trip so rewarding.

The remainder of the journey to the highlands of Nuwara Eliya was largely one of impressions as we passed from the arid scrub of Yala into a country of rice paddies, palm groves and houses nestling beneath the shade of rain trees along the roadside, those under construction bearing effigies to ward off evil spirits. The body part seems fairly universal – a cloth-draped figure with arms outstretched – but the head of each is highly variable, from pumpkin-like affairs that wouldn’t have fooled the sort of evil spirit that might hang around Andy Pandy to buffalo skulls that would worry a Millwall supporter. The head made from a grey oil can with eyes painted on the side was simply surreal, probably most effective on evil spirits that themselves had partaken of too much evil spirit, not that we would know anything about that sort of thing.

Bright white-uniformed schoolchildren, playing with a happy gaiety that we see so infrequently, a woman drawing water from a well, slow brown buffalo padding steadily through just-flooded terraces; all were images of a country that was growing on us by the day, one in which we were becoming increasingly happy to be.

We reached the edge of the high plateau after two hours, climbing up winding roads past a spectacular waterfall, the largest trees we had seen since leaving Sinharaja and signs of reforestation where slash-and-burn agriculture had begun to be replaced with regenerating forest. The spectacular view through the cleft in the escarpment to the lowlands we had just left was accompanied by our first Crimson-fronted Barbet, endemic species or subspecies depending on whether your point of view corresponds with FOGSL or Ceylon Bird Club, and a welcome cup of tea, appropriate to the plantations we began to drive through as we climbed on, eventually stopping at Surrey Estate, about half an hour from Nuwara Eliya. Here, the narrow track through the forest produced close views of the endemic Brown-capped Babbler, then Southern Hill Myna at a nest hole, though attempts to see Brown Wood Owl proved to be nebulous at best for most of us.

Audible gasps could be heard as we emerged from the bright bustle of Nuwara Eliya’s shops and traffic and drove through the gates of St.Andrew’s Hotel, seeing its half-timbered colonial façade and manicured gardens for the first time – the archetypical hill retreat of the British, scattered across Asia from Simla in India to Fraser’s Hill in Malaysia. A fine dinner and a good red wine in the wood-panelled dining room, high ceilings, wide stairs and photographs of the Nuwara Eliya valley from around the late 1800s and we were in another world, though heavy legs reminded us that it was one that was situated at an altitude of 6,200 feet.

Highlights:
Brown Wood Owl, Crimson-fronted Barbet, Brown-capped Babbler, Southern Hill Myna.

Jan.30th

Two minibuses arrived for us at some unearthly hour and we trundled off along undulating, winding roads to Horton Plains, arriving at the famous Arrenga Pool just after 5.30, under a sparkling blanket of a cold night sky, shooting stars zipping across the twinkling blackness like tracers as dawn waited out of sight below ink-black hills.

The contents of the minibuses piled out into the empty road as first light promised long-awaited warmth and although Sri Lanka Whistling Thrush was silent, a Blackbird began to sing from the low ridge above us and the first Sri Lanka Woodpigeon tumbled across the sky, as subtly as our own. Yellow-eared Bulbul and Sri Lanka White-eye made it three endemics in quick succession and, at last, a whistling thrush began to call at around 6.15, its thin, even whistle coming from gnarled, moss-covered trunks just below the road. It began to come steadily closer but at the critical moment, half an hour later, headlights appeared along the road and a couple of tourists climbed out of their transport and walked down the road past the pool. The calling stopped and shadows shortened as the sun began to climb, warming us at last and bringing a Dull-blue Flycatcher into sunlit bushes by the road; four endemics thus far. Passing vehicles and stubborn silence from the whistling thrush began to make it look as if we might be unlucky, they are probably the most unpredictable of the world’s small band of Myophonus species, but at 7.15 it started calling again, very close to the road this time. Nerves taut, alert to every movement, we waited as it continued to call and on the dot of 7.30 a small dark blue thrush flew low over the road and across the pool, named after the bird itself, followed shortly after by a female. The magic continued with a furtive Sri Lanka Bush Warbler moving low down at the water’s edge, skulking like a Cetti’s, and fine views of an Indian Scimitar-babbler in the sunlit trees above the road, the warm orange quality of the light emphasising that the morning was still in its infancy. For some reason, I found myself alone at the pool when Sheila attracted my attention, suggesting that I should come closer, but very slowly, and very quietly. Very slowly, very quietly. What is that bird, sitting there, she asked? Where, I wondered. There, just in the leaves opposite, sat a Chestnut-winged Cuckoo, sunning itself! Of all the things I could have said, my response was fortunately one of the more polite alternatives, but as I frantically tried to attract the attention of the others it began to move up and away into the bushes and out of sight. A bit of persistence and cuckoo-like thinking located it again as it moved unobtrusively through the trees above the road but only one or two of us were fortunate to get views of a species that is notoriously difficult to see and which, for me, concluded one of the most memorable couple of hours birding I have experienced anywhere in the world. A still morning, the sun coming up, bringing the birds with it. The hunter knows it, the cat and the sparrowhawk; concentration so tight that nothing else can get in. An insight into a secret world that few humans bother with.

Walking on along the road, the trees with their lichen-covered branches suddenly opened out into rolling grassland, and we were transported from cloud forest into an upland landscape that could have been Wales or Scotland, small thin streams winding along narrow rush-filled gullies through dew-sparkled grass hummocks, with only occasional Pied Bushchats to suggest that might not be Europe, after all. Paddyfield Pipits and Zitting Cisticolas and more Indian Scimitar-babblers at the forest edge stressed the point and some forest workers stopped in contemplation of all that was strange about them, then realised that perhaps we were not quite so odd, after all, as we stopped to say hello.

A Steppe Buzzard appeared overhead as we walked back to the pool, inducing some discussion with Amila, since Steppe Buzzards are not supposed to occur this far south, but this individual was as close to the classic fox-red morph depicted in plate 342 of Dick Forsman’s Raptors of Europe and the Middle East as makes no difference. Back at the pool, some loud crashing about in the trees above the road revealed two huge and obviously not very happy Bear Monkeys, the woolly-coated upland race of Purple-faced Leaf monkey but so different that it was like seeing another species.

Suddenly, it was time to go, and we slipped reflectively away, downhill to Pattipola railway station where, as if in a time warp, we wandered on to the platform like kids in the 1950s. We had come to check out reports of a pair of Jerdon’s Bazas in a eucalyptus plantation by the station and there, said Fran, they were, the female first, then the male, collecting some very fetching sticks for her in an ultimately successful pre-copulatory offering. Both gave fabulous views, captured by the digi-scopers before we moved on again, heading back towards Nuwara Eliya and its famous Victoria Park, passing a party of three Oriental Honey-buzzards in a staggering variety of plumages en route.

Mingling with afternoon strollers, many in Muslim garb, we began a circuit of the park and John soon found a first winter male Kashmir Flycatcher in trees by the roofless toilet block, though it proved very elusive, even when it was located again later. Some clearing of the undergrowth in the park has taken place and as a result it seems to be less productive than it was three years ago – we failed to find a single pitta – but a Shaheen Falcon (the Sri Lankan race of Peregrine) circled overhead and in a corner of the park where Amila had found Pied Thrush on his pre-tour recce we were treated to three of these almost mythical birds. Difficult to find away from where they breed in the Himalaya and northern India and their high altitude wintering areas in southern India and Sri Lanka, they fed in a mimosa that would be familiar on their breeding grounds. They didn’t disappoint, a female setting the scene for the appearance of a superb male, like a black and white Siberian Thrush with powerful greenish-yellow bill that was quite simply stunning.

It was difficult to keep up the pace of this wonderful day, so we didn’t, retiring to a corner of the lake at Nuwara Eliya where we tried in vain to find Black-throated Munia, suspected by Amila to have undergone an altitudinal migration to paddies lower down, where we might be lucky enough to find them in a couple of days time. However, we did see several Pintail Snipe and our White-breasted Waterhen numbers took a boost before we returned to the hotel for another very welcome meal at the end of what, for me, had been the best day of the trip.

Highlights:

Jerdon’s Baza, Shaheen Falcon (Peregrine), Sri Lanka Woodpigeon, Chestnut-winged Cuckoo, Yellow-eared Bulbul, Pied Bushchat, Sri Lanka Whistling Thrush, Pied Thrush, Sri Lanka Bush Warbler, Dull-blue Flycatcher, Sri Lanka White-eye, Kashmir Flycatcher.

Jan.31st

We wandered, pre-breakfast, into the hills immediately behind St.Andrew’s Hotel, finding leeks, potatoes, brassicas, carrots and beetroot in small patches of cultivation and three Grey-headed Canary Flycatchers around a sunlit snag low down in the forest. These crops are sent to the lowlands in exchange for fruit that cannot be grown up here, in an exchange that has probably been taking place for centuries. Bidding farewell to Nuwara Eliya, one of the high points of the tour in more ways than one, we stopped briefly at the lake again as we departed for Kitulgala, to be treated to a Black-shouldered Kite, but no munias.

We wound our way slowly down into the lowlands, to our next base, at Rafter’s Retreat, near Kitulgala, enclosed in forest-clad valleys that spilled down to the river overlooked by our accommodation, a series of cabins in an old palm plantation. We were nearing Sri Lanka’s Independence Day and the river was full of bathers, several of whom came up to us to say hello. A group of males from Colombo were partying as we sat for lunch, apparently singing love songs to an accompanying guitar and drinking quite happily, just like they don’t do at home.

Crossing the river through hordes of bathers in a dugout that took three journeys to take us all, we trudged through the hot and humid forest to a small patch of cultivation, finding a green pit viper in trees at the water’s edge on the way. The mix of birds was similar to Sinharaja in some ways; Orange-billed Babblers, Layard’s Parakeets, Black Bulbuls, pittas and hanging parrots, but in addition to three Crested Drongos the fields held at least 11 Emerald Doves, more than any of us had ever seen together. A Crested Goshawk soared briefly over the forest and a couple of Lesser Yellownapes showed well, but the light had all but faded as we walked back, illuminating only a couple of Spot-winged Thrushes on the way.

Highlights:
Crested Goshawk, Grey-headed Canary Flycatcher.

Feb.1st

Our attention first thing in the morning was devoted to the palm plantation beneath which our cabins nestled, as we scoured the trees for Chestnut-backed Owlet, accompanied by a couple of frisky horses. We eventually found an individual that tested our direction-giving skills to the absolute limit, but which then provided really good views in the telescope. After a couple of Tickell’s Blue Flycatchers, Sri Lanka Grey Hornbill and Giant Wood Spider, the tiny male keeping well out of the way of the huge female, we left the butterflies and river views of Rafter’s Retreat and headed for Kandy, accompanied by some rather disconcerting talk from the back seat about needing to be focussed for shopping. As Amila suggested, there was a flock of Black-throated Munias at rice paddies on the way, though there was probably more to be learned from the form of a luckless fruit bat, hanging from the same wires that a squirrel scampered along, full of life, than from our visit to the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy, where the temple guide rather offhandedly explained everything and nothing in a plethora of dates. We took lunch overlooking the city and headed off once again on narrow, winding forest roads and tea plantations to Hunas Falls, at an altitude of nearly 3,000 feet, accompanied so memorably by Sheila’s new magic flute.

Paused in contemplation of the setting sun, close dark hills framing soft blue-grey ridges receding into the distance and smoke circling slowly over the flat, shadowed land in between, the view suddenly recalled the Kathmandu valley, seen from Phulchowki, just a year ago. How much has flowed by since then.

Highlights:
Chestnut-backed Owlet, Black-throated Munia.

Feb.2nd

Our bus took us up the hill behind Hunas Falls to Simpson’s Forest, which produced some very good birds, notably two Pacific Swallows, a Black Eagle, several Layard’s Parakeets (how on earth did I miss them last time?), Hill Mynas, a brief Common Hawk-cuckoo and, as I was forced to depart from the group to a bend in the trail, a feeding flock that comprised 15 Yellow-fronted Barbets, Black Bulbuls, Oriental and Sri Lanka White-eyes and several hanging parrots, minivets and fantails. By the time the group caught up they had mostly dispersed, though a female Pied Thrush still remained. Further up, we had very brief views of a large raptor over the ridge, then better views, if not all we would have wished for, of a Mountain Hawk Eagle, gliding along the side of our ridge to the next patch of forest.

Then, like the Rolling Stones, it was time to move on to the next gig, at Dambulla Country Club, situated at the edge of Kandalama Tank, about half way between Kandy and the old capital of Anuradhapura. So, heading once more from the wet into the dry zone, we passed into plantation country, existing alongside paddies and habitation in a more gentle exploitation of the countryside than is evident in many such situations around the world, from the oil palm plantations of Borneo to the wheat fields of Kent. We made the obligatory stop at a spice plantation, for a session of massage, sniffing and defoliation that was actually quite entertaining. At least, they held our attention for a good deal longer than on my previous visit when we went to a spice plantation on our second day and the demonstrator had to compete for our attention with several bird species that were new to us. I seem to recall that he gave up.

We left the plantation after lunch and arrived at Kandalama in late afternoon, where some brief birding in the hotel grounds produced several Great Thick-knees, a party of 18 Black-crowned Night Herons on an island in the lake, White-winged Black Tern and about a hundred Rosy Starlings.

Highlights:

Mountain Hawk-eagle, Common Hawk-cuckoo, Pacific Swallow, Common Woodshrike.

Feb.3rd

Leaving Kandalama early, we headed to Anuradhapura, where part of the group stayed behind to frolic in the swimming pool and visit the old city, while the rest took the opportunity to visit Mannar, in the north-west of Sri Lanka, closed to visitors until about a year ago because of the political strife between Sri Lanka and Tamil separatists.

The avian highlight for the city dwellers was an Oriental Honey-buzzard, displaying in a series of steep undulations, clapping its wings together repeatedly over its body at the apex of each, looking for all the world like a giant dipterocarp seed in the sky. For our visit to the ancient city of Anuradhapura, dating back to the fourth century BC, we were accompanied by the infectiously enthusiastic R.B.Edirisinghe (‘Eddie’) whose tangle of white hair may well have last seen a pair of scissors at some similarly distant time in the past, as delicately observed by Mick. The Bo-tree, under which the Buddha sat in his search for enlightenment, said to have been brought to Sri Lanka from India around 250 BC, was planted in the grounds of the city, rendering Anuradhapura sacred to Buddhists the world over. The site was built to house over 11,000 monks and features four great stupas, including the brick-built Jetavana, at 360 feet high the tallest stupa (or dhageba, to use Eddie’s preference) in the world. Now a World Heritage site, it is remarkable to realise that for years the site was embedded in the jungle; one of the stupas is still covered in earth and remnant vegetation and another, though largely restored, is still undergoing the process of being returned to its original condition. This site does not have the scenic magnificence of Macchu Picchu or the feeling of spiritual vibrancy of Bodhinath in Kathmandu, but there is a palpable calm serenity about the place that was brought to life by Eddie’s passion for his subject; a far more edifying few hours than our scuttle around the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy, which just goes to show that things are not always to found where you search for them.

Mannar is no longer an island as a causeway now connects it to the mainland, either side of which is water and tidal mudflats, packed with waders, while the tip of Mannar is not unlike like Morjim Beach in Goa with roosting gulls, terns and waders. Highlights included uncountable number of waders and terns, including Heuglin’s Gull, 300 Caspian Terns, five Crab Plovers, 14 Avocets, 20 Great Knots, the last two of which were seen from the causeway, 16 Greater Flamingos, Richards Pipits and Grey Francolins, while Black Drongos and Rollers were abundant on roadside wires. Spot-billed Ducks were found nesting on a small tank near the start of the causeway and a long-billed curlew had us wondering about the possibility of Eastern Curlew, though it seems most likely to have been a very long billed example of Eurasian Curlew. Although Mannar is now government controlled it has only just been opened up to visitors and evidence of fighting between government forces and Tamil Tigers was everywhere, from bullet holes in buildings to gun-emplacements and restricted areas that are still not accessible because of uncleared land mines. A visit to this area is not recommended without a Sinhala-speaking guide as soldiers are very much in evidence and are understandably very nervous about bins and especially scopes and cameras. Giantes Tank, visited on the way back, produced 250 Painted Storks, at least 1000 Openbills and uncountable numbers of egrets.

Back at the hotel, an evening bird walk produced a wonderful display from several Asian Paradise Flycatchers, all of the brown form, sallying out from their perches in the trees by the lake to dip in the water and back again. We had excellent views of the northern, golden-backed race of Black-rumped Flameback and a male Shikra so still by the path that I thought it was a plastic one!

Conscious of the fact that our time was fast running out, we took a last delicious dip in the pool under the sparkling night sky.

Feb.4th

A last walk round the hotel grounds in the morning produced Large Cuckooshrike, among a good sprinkling of common dry zone species, then it was time to go and we headed off rather wistfully to Puttalam saltpans, on the coast to the north of Negombo, our last stop before the flight home, or so we thought. We found a couple of Terek Sandpipers on a small, disused area then spent a short while getting our eye in with a flock that consisted mainly of Marsh and Curlew Sandpipers, Little Stints and Broad-billed Sandpipers, of which there were at least 18, the largest flock I have seen.

Through coastal palm groves and increasing urbanisation, the journey onward was fairly unforgettable, though Indian Rollers were common along the roadside and even in the narrow streets of Chilaw people had the time and grace to stop, smile and wave as we passed. We also undertook a memorable diversion on to a rubbish-strewn sand spit just outside the town, passing through a fishing hamlet constructed from life’s flotsam and jetsam; some dwellings built roughly from brick, while others teetered on the edge of existence in mud and rush-mat flimsiness. Past brightly painted boats pulled up on to the sand, small fish drying on mats in the sun, fishermen mending nets, children smiling, laughing and gleefully waving, utterly mystified adults and then the cemetery; an eloquent commentary on the impermanence of life itself. Amila had brought us here to see Sanderling, a fairly local species on the island, and there they were; one group standing and wondering while others pattered along the tide line, skittering away from the inrushing water, impelled by the moon like the sea itself.

We reached Negombo and piled into the swimming pool of what can be most tastefully described as a transit hotel, apparently originally designed as a multi-storey car park but which at least two people were capturing on video. Where on earth had they been and what had they seen in the last two weeks?

Highlights:
Intermediate Egret, Sanderling, Broad-billed Sandpiper, Terek Sandpiper.

Feb.5th

Amila called at the appointed time, just before 4 am, to say that Colombo airport had been closed for ten hours because of an incident with a Russian freighter (an aircraft, presumably, though ship was not ruled out) that had crash-landed on the airstrip. It was anticipated that we would leave at around 10 am. However, we departed just after midday, reaching Abu Dhabi well after our onward flight, with the prospect of a 12-hour wait before us. However, Gulf Air arranged for us to stay in a hotel and we all piled into a bus and off to the Al Dubious Hotel, passing parties of Grey Francolins by the roadside and into the concrete and glass high rises of Abu Dhabi seafront. By the time we had consumed some rather forgettable sandwiches the light was too bad to make anything of some very interesting-looking gulls that had gathered on buoys inside a nearby jetty, though we did see Red-vented and White-cheeked Bulbuls either from the bus into town or in the park between the hotel and the sea. A couple of hours sleep and it was time to leave for the airport, away from the Al Dubious and its night life of western men and mostly oriental women, doubtless immersed in theories of reverse migration, eventually leaving for Heathrow at 2 am. By the time we got back to Sandwich it had been 37 hours since Amila’s call to give us the glad tidings.

So, another trip done and dusted. As always, a host of memories crowd in for recognition, but are any more vivid than the people themselves? We rarely met anyone on this beautiful island who was not prepared to smile, to talk or to wave, just because they wanted to. Best bird? Well, Milky Pratincole is always great to see and these were the best views I have ever had, but it has to be Chestnut-winged Cuckoo, for the sheer mouth-opening moment of the event itself. Thanks, Sheila.

Systematic List