Delta of the Rio Ebro

It is evening and all is calm over the surrounding rice fields. We have just completed a two and a half-day tour of the delta of the Ebro River, a wondrous and flat land that might be compared to the landscape of lower Louisiana, only the people there speak Catalan and Spanish. The sun set as a huge orange ball awhile ago, with birds of many feather crossing the sky in pursuit of their nightly roost. I returned back to our hotel room in the Village of Deltebre in the heart of the delta after doing some last minute birding (including saying goodbye to my last flock of flamingoes) and exploration after our late lunch/early dinner of the local rice smothered in a sauce, complete with prawns, shrimp, octopus, mussels and clams; it was superb, comparable to a Cajun gumbo without all their spices. Both the meal and my late afternoon drive served as a fitting farewell to this land of birds, canals, rice fields, birds, orange groves, multiple roadways and birds. Did I mention the birding! To my journal to explain the last two days:

Our Complimentary After Dinner Drinks - A Locally-Made Rice Liquer

(Quite Good - Much Like Bailey's Irish Cream)

L'Ampolla, Tarragona Provence, Catalonia, Spain (Thursday, November 28th) - A Thanksgiving without turkey is a day for the birds. And so it was for us today and tomorrow. We are on the delta of the Ebro River, one of the major waterways of Spain and one of the only large streams to flow into the Mediterranean within this country. This is generally an arid land, so if you have an open, marshy area with a favorable climate, it’ll draw wildlife, mostly birds. This delta harbors birds throughout the year, but is especially notable for its winter residents and migrational travelers. After some pretty sparse birding for most of our trip (with the exception of the Parc Natural gem on the Gulf of Roses), we’re ready to see some birds.

Scene on the Delta

Sandy has set us up nicely to do that; having found a bird guide to show us around his home area today. His name is Al (I’ve nicknamed him You Can Call Me Al) Henderson and he’s a Brit, originally from Leeds in Yorkshire, but has been living here on the delta for twenty years. He lured his wife, Wendy, here from the UK as well and they’ve raised two bilingual children solely in Spain. He came down here to guide fishermen in pursuit of the giant catfish that lurk in the lower Ebro, but the big cat's numbers decreased over the years, so he switched to birding tours. We’re certainly looking forward to our time with him tomorrow in chalking up some European species.

Sandy in Birding Mode

We arrived in L’Ampolla around two o’clock on our drive down the AP-7 freeway. With two hours to kill before we met Al, so he could drive us to our house that we are renting from him, we decided to head out into the delta on our own. We were anxious to scout out some of the new birds on our own and it didn’t take us long to do just that. Fresh off the N-340 highway, we spotted a bunch of feeders walking a flooded rice field (they grow a lot of arroz here, as might be imagined, but its harvested and the fields are in stubble now). Amidst the gulls, we spotted some glossy ibises, little egrets and northern lapwings. We were off on our birding adventures

L'Ampolla

A Northern Lapwing

(Cute Little Guy, Isn't He?)

Glossy Ibis

Friday, November 29th - You Can Call Me Al showed us a fine, full day! He also showed us the Ebro Delta, from side to side; complete with all the birds in between. And what a bunch of flockin’ birds there were too. Al proved to be not only a great guy, but a very competent bird guide. He definitely knows his feathered friends or at least the European varieties. We left the house at nine o’clock this morning and didn’t return until after dark nine hours later. After our return, Al showed us photos from his recent birding trip to the West African country of Gambia for another hour; unbelievable colors!

Sunrise on the Delta

Having done this sort of tour before, Al planned his day for maximum effect. He started us out with a few wading birds and a small assortment of warblers; he reintroduced us to the glossy ibis (we would revisit that species in mass as the sun was setting) and we caught sight of several common chiffchaffs, a bluethroat, a cisticola, a couple of Sardinian warblers (they're the little guys carrying violin cases) and a like number of Dartford warblers. Examining a marshy-fringed pond afterwards, we came upon Eurasian moorhens; a western swamphen; little, black necked and great crested grebes.

Sardinian Warbler

Common Chiffchaff

Little Grebe

Approaching the mouth of the shallow bay system to the delta’s north, where an active musseling operation exists, we spotted the first flock of greater flamingoes (but not the last), learned a few gulls and terns and watched birds of prey working overhead (Eurasian marsh-harriers, Eurasian kestrels, ospreys and later a couple of hooded eagles patrolling a drainage canal). The day continued on in like manner, sandpipers, a black-crowned night heron, Eurasian spoonbills (pale cousins to the rosettes of the Gulf Coast), a crested lark, various plovers, Eurasian curlew and a couple of types of godwits. Of course, there were the waterfowl, the usual suspects plus a tufted duck, common pochard and Eurasian wigeon. And, at last, the bird Sandy had been waiting our entire trip to see—the greater hoopoe; such a strange little, multi-patterned bird.

Musselmen Going Out

Great Egret Readying For a Strike

Gray Herons Roosting in Rice Field

The Hoopoe

It was late in the day when we proceeded to the southern side of the delta opposite a large spit of land that tapers into the sea. There, on a series of well-protected interior ponds, was maybe the largest flock of flamingoes I have ever witnessed. The flock numbered well over a thousand birds and they were at least eight hundred meters from us, but there were several outlying pairs of adult and juvenile birds as well much closer to us. I gazed at the main flock in awe for quite some time. They were relatively quiet, seemingly settling in for the night, not feeding. It was one of the great sights of nature, at least to my eyes. Further along the south side, we came upon a viewing platform, where we spent the rest of the day, with the sun setting behind some clouds and mountains in the distance. We watched the great flocks of glossy ibis come gliding by, looking for roosting spots for the night. A couple of marshes away, a number of marsh harriers circled, performing the same function. I spotted a great bittern slip into the reed fringe of a nearby channel, also as a roosting place. The sun set and we descended the platform, tired and full of great visions from the day. We had sighted more than fifty bird species on the day, most new to us.

A Sea of Pale Pink

A Little Closer Up

Setting Down From a Short Flight

Just About Down

A Solitary Flamingo Coming Up From Feeding

Marsh Grass in Evening Light

Common Kingfisher in Profile

(In Bright Light, He's Anything But Common)

Glossy Ibis in Evening Flight

Tomorrow we head back up the coast to Barcelona, where we'll turn in our BMW chariot, which has been with us for the past six weeks. We then check into our downtown hotel for three days of touring that marvelous city. More after those adventures...