Twitching the Wallcreeper in France

January 2008

by Nigel Jarman, Brendan Ryan & Julian Russell

News of a Wallcreeper near Wimereux, just north of Boulogne had us emailing friends in Belgium to try and get up to date news. It had been found by a couple the previous weekend and was still present on the Monday. However the trail had gone cold during the week with no news.

Calls on the Friday evening, together with internet troubles booking the ferry had us stalling on an intrepid venture across the channel to relocate the bird.

Typically of course, several calls Saturday lunchtime informed us the bird was still present. That did it the ferry was booked, tides were checked and away we went.

Arriving at the clifftop, we saw a small group of seven birders on the beach below, but how to get to them? A careful, but hasty clamber down the steps and rocks had us on the beach in no time. Had the bird been seen? No! But it was present last night near the recent landslide, and that was where everyone’s attention was directed.

A few more birders arrived, and this being France, there were very cordial greetings with “Bonjour”, hand shakes and a genuinely convivial atmosphere. But still no sign of the bird. Everyone began to spread out along the beach to increase our chances, and a couple of false alarms in the form of Robin and Black Redstart, got the hearts beating a little faster.

One group of French birders set off over the treacherous rocks to the Fulmar colony where it had originally been found. We wandered along after them and it soon became clear that their quickened step and concentrated gazes meant that they were on to something. We hurried as best we could, but by the time we had caught up with them they had lost the bird. A quick call and everyone else arrived on this section of the beach. Even with all eyes concentrated on the area, there was still no sign. It must have slipped past us all.

The three of us and Jeremy, a Belgian friend, decided to head back to our first location, and as we did so Jeremy screamed “there it is”, and sure enough a vision of red, black, white and grey was flying past us at no more than 30 metres distance. It landed – grey and white, it flicked its wings – grey, white, black and red – WOW!

Soon, everyone was running back to savour this amazing creature as it clung to the sandstone cliffs, flicking its wings, probing into little crevices for insects and delighting us all.

Every feature was savoured in the scope – the delicately curved bill, the subtle grey plumage on the upperparts, the hint of red on the folded wing and then the explosion of pattern and colour as it flew – bright red with white spots on the primaries on a black background. Even the toes seemed extraordinarily long. It was fantastic.

After about 10 minutes, it flew along in front of us and back round the corner to the Fulmar colony with many of the birders in hot pursuit for more views and better photos.

We were elated and with only 29 people present (8 UK, 7 Belgian, 12 French and a couple of Dutch) it was almost surreal.

We were on the ferry home a little more than 4 hours after arriving in France and we back out birding in Kent in the afternoon.