Senegal. A fourth helping. Something of a mixed course.

After a few days at Lampsar, we were back in the rattletrap bus and heading back to Diadiam III - for reasons not quite clear to me, we stayed in different accommodation - this time the Campement Bidiel in the centre of the village - for some ringing around the biological station at the park entrance. This entailed a brisk walk of about 1.5 km to get the nets opened in the morning, then a walk back for breakfast for 8 and back again for the next few hours, then back again when we packed up in the heat of the day. 

From the back of the van this time. Note the securely-latched back door.

As you might imagine, breakfast back at the lodge soon fell by the wayside (the food in Senegal was perfectly fine, but the breakfasts were generally the least interesting option, being baguette with either mango jam, hibiscus jam (delicious, highly recommended) or mystery jam plus instant coffee). The loss of the lodge breakfast was eased by discovery of a lovely lady with a kiosk at the entrance to the park, who sold coffee (also instant, but what the hell) and made omelette sandwiches on a half baguette for the princely sum of €1.30 for the whole package.

Coffee at the kiosk!

 

The other significant flaw with ringing here was the wind. The entire time we spent here, the wind was up and blasting by 9 at the latest. Given sunrise is only at 7:15 and there was really no pre-dawn activity, this left a really small window available for ringing. What about the afternoon, I hear you ask (really!) Well, by the time the heat was out of the day there was probably an hour, max two for ringing. 

The harmattan kept us dusty most days

 

The idea had been to put up nets in the thorn scrub near the village, but this produced next to nothing the first couple of evenings, and by that point there was little enthusiasm for traipsing round empty nets every 20 minutes, so - aside from one net aiming for nightjars and other oddities - the idea was shelved. So, I ended up doing a lot more exploring of the thorn scrub to the south of Diadiam III than I'd expected, but this was not really such a bad thing. I've never really had the chance to walk and wander at will in Africa before, so the chance to wander off, explore even a small area and see what was out there was too good to ignore.

A trek across the bleak saltflats to the east of the village took me to another shallow pool, drying gradually out. The biggest inhabitants were a herd of donkeys, who weren't too impressed with my presence, but didn't go rushing off into the distance either. They just kept a wary eye on me, presumably in case I attempted to rope one up. The usual assortment of waders was hanging out on the mud: mainly Wood Sandpipers and Little Stints, but a little group of Kentish Plovers trying to blend with the sand made a nice addition. A Grey Heron lurked in the middle of the pool, keeping itself well away from both me and an intruding Purple Heron. 

Kentish Plovers - a long way from Kent

Nicest of all, an Osprey was hunkered down on the ground at the other end of the pool. After a while it got fed up with me watching it and headed off northwards. I worked my way gradually around the pool, just to see what was around. The north side was linked to a zigzag series of wet ditches, mainly banked high and thickly grown with tamarisk, but occasionally with tramped patches where animals had been crossing. The dragonfly fauna was as disappointing as before: mainly Crocothemis erythraea and the ever-present Ischnura senegalensis; just a lone Orthetrum (sp.) to add variety. Part-way along the ditches I heard a whistle, then saw a man striding through the bushes towards me. To be honest I was expecting to be told that I was somewhere that I shouldn't be, but he just wanted to know the name of the village - though he also instructed me that I wasn't allowed to take photos here: on the road was OK, but not here. Smile, nod. Scratch head metaphorically and wonder why...

Orthetrum species - maybe just trinacria?

As the pool was less interesting than hoped, I focused on spending the rest of my free time exploring the thorn scrub. A different route out and across each day to slice it up into new sections. It was, despite the aridity and sometimes desolate appearance, surprisingly productive. Key to finding birds seemed to be finding fruiting and, to a lesser extent, flowering shrubs, but when there were birds there were often reasonable numbers and diversity. Yes, the bulk birds were seed-eaters (Sudan Golden Sparrow mainly, and lashings of weavers and queleas) and pigeons (Mourning Collared, Namaqua and Laughing, in order of abundance), but there was plenty more to find. 

Sudan Golden Sparrows en masse

Little groups of Northern Red-billed Hornbills were often to be found munching the fruits of some trees, bounding up to the tops of the trees when I got too close. Palearctic migrants were spread through the scrub too: plenty of Western Olivaceous and Western Subalpine Warbler, the occasional Common Whitethroat, lots of Common Chiffchaffs and a few Western Bonelli's Warblers, one or two Common Redstarts and Woodchat Shrikes and a couple of Hoopoes. More exotic - for me - were Senegal Batis, sounding vaguely like a Great Tit, and the purring trills of Brubrus. Every so often a flash of electric blue revealed a Striped Kingfisher had been waiting patiently in the shadows. Near the cemetery (where else?) was a reliable spot to find Senegal Thick-knees and Orange-breasted Waxbills; tiny splashes of colour in an otherwise sand-and-green landscape.

Hoopoe. As if you didn't know that...

Western Bonelli's Warbler

Western Red-billed Hornbill

Senegal Thick-knee

Orange-breasted Waxbill

...and a whole flock of 'em

Interestingly, there were also plenty of dragonflies in this arid area too: not just roving bluetails, but also a very pale spreadwing - maybe Lestes pallidus? - and an apparent Pseudagrion species. Neat! Possibly the nicest sightings were a couple of predators: a random Peregrine and an equally random African Wolf, which trotted past me, paused to check whether I looked like trouble, and then trotted on. Very, very cool.

Deciding I'm just not worth the hassle

 

Dung beetle's gotta roll

Perhaps Lestes pallidus

Definitely Trithemis annulata

Plain Tiger (butterfly)

This is getting more tricky. A leopard tiger beetle (there's a cat theme developing)

Still not adult, but already bigger than a European Mantis: African Giant Mantis

Pioneer White

A beautiful ichneumon-type wasp

What ringing there was at the biological station was a little bit comme ci, comme ça. Again something of a tendency to weaver overload, but nonetheless some nice additional birds too. A patch of scrub to the east of the abandoned hotel produced a nice mix of Palearctic migrants and Afrotropical goodies - lots of Curruca warblers (including our only Westen Orphean) and Chiffchaffs, a couple of Yellow-crowned Gonoleks and some Camaropteras. Attempting to catch waders was nigh-on pointless, with isolated nets and the ever-present wind - with the exception of these:

Greater Painted-Snipe

which came piling in to the swampy grassland in the early morning, from wherever they'd been munching overnight. And ringing reedbed passerines was heavily influenced by the wind and the weavers, though we did catch a British-ringed Sedge Warbler and a Common Redstart with a South African ring. 

Still, whatever the ringing situation might have fallen short on, there was generally plenty going on on and around the pools, so boredom was kept fairly well at bay.

Yellow Wagtail action round the pools: this one looks like Spanish (iberiae)...

...while this one looks like a standard Blue-headed (flava)

The flamingos were usually quite distant, but occasionally came close enough to photograph

Kittlitz's Plover and Common Ringed Plover

Great White Pelicans overhead were frequent, sometimes in massive flocks

Little Stint

Looking north across the pool to the new biological station

Little Egret

Western Orphean Warbler

Amongst the White-faced Whistling-Ducks were usually a few Fulvous

Occasional obstacle on net rounds

 

Senegal. Another helping.

From Diadiam III we boarded possibly the most rickety vehicle I've ever had the privilege to travel in and headed off to our next accommodation at Lampsar Lodge, on the banks of the river Lampsar at Ndiaye. Our 'taxi' was a rusting grey bus with three banks of seats spanning the interior behind the driver and two sets of seats facing one another at the rear. There was - fortunately - space on the roof to carry the luggage. The windows weren't brilliant at opening and the bus had probably been built some decades before air-con was invented, but we were well-ventilated with some rust holes in the floor which were more or less the size of my hand (I did wonder whether someone's foot might go through if they trod unwarily), so we could share the dust and exhaust fumes with ease. We couldn't go at more than about 40 km/h, but given the road surface and the state of the bus that was probably a blessing. The rear doors had to be held closed by a rope for the entire journey by the lad accompanying the driver (who also had the unenviable task of getting the luggage on and off the roof). We got there in one piece though, which is all we could ask. One interesting moment about a kilometer from the lodge when the police at one of the many, many checkpoints waved us over and checked the driver's paperwork. Something, somewhere, was obviously unsatisfactory, so there ensued a long wait while the driver negotiated and eventually (by the look of it) coughed up a contribution to be allowed to continue.

Taxi to Lampsar...

As we drove away from Diadiam, we passed through areas of extensive bare earth with occasional tamarisks, obviously periodically inundated and then drying, then over various canals and ditches carefully carrying water away from the main river to areas where the farms were. The first fields - furthest from the settlements along the main road - were being cleared and prepared entirely by hand. Pretty hot and thirsty work by the look of it.

Close to Diadiam III - dry, saline and not overly inspiring

This is where the water's going?

Lampsar was a little like stepping into another world. The lodge lies on the river (judging by the height of the water along the wall there, under the river might be a better description) and was surrounded by coconut palms and lush greenery. There were Pied Kingfishers hunting the river from the shade of the trees, Yellow-crowned Gonoleks nabbing food from the trio of penned tortoises and piles of excitable weavers in the trees: chatting, gossiping and tuning up for a busy breeding season. Nice to recognise a song I last heard nearly 20 years ago in Kenya: Village Weavers. There were also sunbirds in the bushes and firefinches on the deck. All in all, a little different to Diadiam III.

Lampsar Lodge

 

Looking west from the dining area, downriver along the Lampsar...

...upriver looks similar.

A not-very good photo of a very good-looking bird: Yellow-crowned Gonolek

Pied Kingfisher

The ringing was also somewhat different. By far the most frequent birds in the nets were Black-headed Weavers and Sudan Golden Sparrows, closely followed by Red-billed Queleas, Red-billed Firefinches and Little Weavers. There were good reasons to be attentive when taking stripy brown finchy things out of the nets though: lurking in there were the occasional Yellow-crowned Bishop, Northern Red Bishop, Pin-tailed Whydah and Village Indigobird. It would be soooo much easier when the little blighters are in breeding plumage, but the challenge of identifying them out in non-breeding plumage was eagerly accepted. The palearctic migrants were skewed much more towards the scrub-inhabitants: Western Subalpine Warbler, Western Olivaceous Warbler and Common Chiffchaff were the commonest, but a handful of Sedge and Reed Warblers crept in as well. Notably, we caught a lot of Common Bulbuls and a trio of pigeon species: Mourning Collared Dove, Laughing Dove and Black-billed Wood Dove. The jam on the cake, so to speak, were a whole troupe of Blue-naped Mousebirds and a single African Jacana.

Mourning Collared Dove. These were everywhere, announcing themselves when they arrived in a tree with a rattly kroo-oo-oo.

Subalpine Warbler - a young bird. These were easier when they were just one species instead of three. 

Same bird, just from behind. Tail completely worn to rags.

Pin-tailed Whydah with its comic relief nose on early

African Jacana - aren't those toes great?

Northern Red Bishop. No, really.

This one's an adult - and with more confidence a Western - Subalpine.

Black-billed Wood-Dove

Red-billed Firefinches. Male on the left, female looking exasperated.

Blue-naped Mousebird

Again, the down-time hours were a good excuse to get out and find some other wildlife. The surroundings were less open and easy than round Diadiam III, but there was a riverside track running south - and north - between the narrow strip of aquatic vegetation and the neighbouring farmland. So, there were a few butterflies and distinctly more dragonflies than our previous base (odd, the latter, as the habitat really didn't seem to be more varied; quite the reverse). 

Mystery damselfly. Not Ischnura senegalensis, the blue taillight is on s.8 & 9, rather than just 8 and the thorax is blue. Annoyingly, I got no photo from the side.

Sunning (!) ...

...aaah, Little Bee-eater. Why the need to sunbathe in near 30 degrees heat I'm not sure.

Male Pied-spot Hemistigma albipunctum. Quite the beast.

Common Citril Ceriagrion glabrum, I think. These were fairly easy to find

Looks very much like Truxalis nasuta...

Male Pintail Acisoma sp.

Carpenter bee!

Small, yet fine, moth. Maybe Aporodes?

Trithemis annulata - Violet Dropwing, a species spreading fast northwards through Europe now

A relative - this one seems to be Blue Basker,Urothemis edwardsii

This fine skink was basking near the lodge

and these tracks betrayed the presence of a Nile Monitor in the adjacent ditch.

Western Plantain-eater. Without plantain.

These large agamas were easy to find in the lodge garden

 Lampsar was quite a step up in comfort from Diadiam III. There was a dining area on pontoons on the river, which doubled as our ringing station, and we were served three-course meals (though the main was still often fish and rice). There was hibiscus or baobab juice at breakfast time - very much appreciated - and the bathrooms were a little less quirky than the previous accommodation. At least, there was hot water for showering and toilets which flushed without incident... We even had company at meals!

Fish. With rice and spicy veg (ages since I've had okra - a nice treat)

Yeah, so, you've got fish. Where's mine?

Incidental net-botherer

Then, if a cat can join you at table, why not a goat?

This was an unexpected treat in the net one evening!

The river was clearly a conduit for all sorts of birds too. White-faced Whistling Ducks were often loafing on the water and there were always Moorhens and Swamphens picking around the fringes of the reeds on the opposite side. An African Fish Eagle put in occasional appearances, and Whiskered Terns were ever-present. Add in Pied and Malachite Kingfishers, various cormorants and herons and the inevitable Spur-winged Lapwings, and it made for a busy place. And, of course, the opposite bank appeared to be a major weaver roost - hundreds, if not thousands on a daily basis tazzing across the river from the safe reedbed roost to the food on our bank. 

Whiskered Tern on patrol

African Fish-eagle also on patrol

Nothing to do with the river, but a good-looker. African Grey Woodpecker

 

And, goodnight.