Travelling in Europe by Marjorie A. Bourret

Over the years, I’ve taken a number of trips to Europe and the British
Isles.  While none of the trips have been specifically for bird
watching, birds have been an “Extra Added Attraction” to them.  I
remember:

National Parks in Europe aren’t separate areas with entrance fees as
they are in the U. S.  Instead they are apt to be either in towns or
right at the edge of towns.  For instance, DeGroot Peel National Park in
Holland is right next to Utrecht and DeHoge Velow is on the Baltic sea
not far from Amsterdam.  Both provide some unique birding.

Apparently DeGroot Peel means “great peat bog” for that’s about what it
is.  There were boardwalks through it, one leading to a pond where there
were breeding Black Headed Gulls - hundreds of adults and many more
juveniles.  Below one board walk, in the reeds, there were Eurasian
Coots with babies.  The parents tore off pieces of grass and feed them
to the babies.  And there weren’t any other people there - just the
three of us.

Similiarly,  DeHoge Velow is a grassy area that seems to go on for miles
was deserted.  Alghouth quite flat, they gave the impression of rolling
hills, the grasses were of many colors and flowers were in bloom
everywhere. There weren’t many birds, but we did find Jays - larger and
more colorful than American jays.

I grew up with the story of the little Dutch boy sticking his finger in
the dike to save the town so I imagined dikes as being very narrow.  Not
so.  Near Lelystad on the Markermeer, 35 km northeast of Amsterdam,  we
walked along a dike wide enough for a two lane road. It has the
wonderful name of Oostvaardersdijk. The Markermeer is separated from the
Ijsselmeer by a dike, and that is separated from the Waddenzee by
another dike, which is separated from the North Sea by a string of
islands.  It’s a remarkable demonstration of how Holland has reclaimed
land from the ocean.  On the “inland” side is a wetlands called the
Oostvaardersplassen which is significantly lower than the ocean.  One
can easily see the various levels of land.  On the Oostvaardersplassen
we saw Northern Lapwing, Avocet (reminiscent of an American Avocet in
winter plumage, but with a much curvier bill), Oystercatcher (quite
different from either the American or Black Oystercatcher), and a great
many others too far away to identify without a spotting scope.

Walking along the Oostvaardersdijk dike we saw an Egyptian Goose family
(mama, papa and 8 babies), Pochard, Spoonbill, Bittern (larger and more
colorful than the American Bittern), Cormorant (same as the Great
Cormorant found on the American East Coast), Tufted Duck, Mute Swan,
Arctic Tern, and Gray Heron

In many places in Europe one routinely walks through private land.
Thus, one often is birding on private land.  While hill walking with a
group of women in Scotland, I found I had to relearn the art of fence
climbing which I hadn’t done since I was a child. On that trip I was the
center of attention for those women were not accustomed to walking with
an American woman, especially one who was nearly the same age as their
mothers.  Although I wasn’t really birding, I did see a Buzzard
overhead.

While Germany is densely populated, there are open fields near each
town.  In Eberstadt, while walking near a field I came across a Green
Woodpecker in someone’s back yard.

Once before going to Switzerland I had made arrangements to go birding
with  with a Swiss man man who knew the “einheimishen Vogelarten”.  He
was a volunteer with Schweiz. Vogelwarte Sempach, which I think is the
Swiss equivalent of PRBO.  I had his telephone number, but negotiating
the Swiss phone system is an adventure in itself.  And then the phone
was answered by his wife, speaking in German, of course.  Oh, dear.
What to do?  I said “Hier ist Frau Bourret aus California.”  Quickly she
put the man on the phone and after many a false start we arranged to
meet on the rail platform in Spiez.  But how would we recognize one
another?  I wore my binoculars around my neck and as the train pulled
into the station, I saw a man also with binoculars around his neck.  Ah,
ha.

He took me in his car to a great many places tourists wouldn’t know
about. He spoke no English and my German is limited, but we communicated
by waving our arms and pointing to pictures in the bird book.  In a
rural area there were Song and Mistle Thrushes, plus a Black Redstart.
Overhead there were Black Kites.  (We lucked out in seeing them for in a
week or so they would be headed for Africa.)  In a quarry there were
Crag Martins and a Golden Eagle. We finished with lunch on the patio of
the home of my guide and his wife where she and I had a long talk auf
Deutsch comparing social problems in the U. S. and Switzerland.  I think
we agreed, but given the language problem will never know for sure.  A
complete write up of that trip is in the Albatross  for
January/February, 1997.

On a trip to Austria I attended a falconry demonstration in Hohenwerfen,
a castle high up on a hill outside the town of Werfen.  Benches were
placed on a hillside in the courtyard of the castle forming an
amphitheater.  The falcons were brought out from above, by costumed
attendants.  There were 4 or 5 different types of falcons, including a
Gyrfalcon and a Saker.  We learned that falcons can reach speeds of 300
kilometers per hour and can take small game. The falconer tossed a fish
in the air, which landed in a pond at my feet were a Fisheagle took it.

I talked with the falconer after the demonstration, a less than
successful  conversation - he spoke no English and my German was
inadequate for an extended conversation.  He was very upset by the fact
that falcons are declining in Austria - “kein lebensraum” - and too many
people on the high peaks.  Interestingly, he was aware of the California
Condor restoration program and had also been in touch with the Predatory
Bird Center in Boise, Idaho.

Austrians love Knödeln (dumplings) so we went to a Knödel Festival in
Golling.   The whole main street was blocked off.   All the restaurants
had set up tables so people could  sample the different kinds each
makes.   There were more types of Knödeln than one can imagine:
mushroom, fruit, meat, vegetable, even Mozart Eisknödol  (marzipan in
the center of a ball with  chocolate ice-cream on the outside).  And
what did I see there?  A Rough-legged Buzzard (same as our Rough-legged
Hawk) soaring overhead!

On that same trip, I sat watching two Great Necked Grebes courting on
the Zellersee in Austria .  At least I think they were courting for they
were wrapping their necks around one another, and yet this was in
mid-September, so perhaps they were “renewing their vows”.  As Austrians
walked by me, all gave me a “whatever in the world are you doing?”
look.  Apparently one walks, not bird watches, on that path.
I spent Christmas, 1997, in Darmstadt, Germany, with my son and his
wife. There I birded through the windows of his apartment.  Those
windows had very wide external sills.  My son had a tuna can full of
black oil seed on a window ledge.  A great variety of Tits, Black, Blue,
Coal, Great, and Marsh (or Willow) all came to the feeder, as did a
Hawfinch.  One night it rained ice.  Literally.  When the birds came
next morning they went slipping and sliding up to the feeders - what a
great place for Woodstock and his Zamboni!

One summer, friends in Freiburg, Germany took me to see a White Stork
roosting in the chimney of a church.  On the way back to their home we
came across an Uhu (an Eagle Owl) flying low along the ground at dusk.
A note of caution:  In Germany older women don’t wear jeans.  In fact,
while they wear warm pants in the winter they wear only dresses in
summer.  One of the young women I was visiting offered to loan me a
“nice dress” in which to go out to dinner.  I assured her that I had
such an outfit with me.

Other interesting sightings:

A really ratty looking Grey Heron raucously squaking as we hiked near
Youghalarra Bay on Loch Derg, Ireland.

A Nutcracker walking along a horizonal branch of a tree outside my
window in Frutigen, Switzerland.  What an incredibly ugly bird!

A Gray Wagtail hopping from rock to rock in a channeled creek while
walking to the railway station in Frutigen.

Alpine Choughs swirling below me on the Stockhorn, Switzerland.

A Redkite in the Simmental, Switzerland.

A Red-crested Pochard in the boat harbor at Spiez, Switzerland.

Gannets swirling near the cliffs of Mizzen Head, Ireland

A Green Sandpiper on the edge of the Bluntausee (a small lake) near
Golling, Austria.

A Sparrowhawk chasing a much larger Rook in the Lainzer Tiergarten, a
12,000 acre game preserve in the Vienna Woods.

A Purple Heron standing in a river in the Ardeche area of France.