North Devon

 

 

It's 6. am and the sun is just rising to a clear sky.  The video footage shows a small black car pulling up to the barrier. A man reaches out and presses numbers on the key pad. Nothing happens. He tries again. Nothing. He gets out, goes round and tries to lift the barrier. It's not possible without breaking it. He tries the key pad again. The he gets out and walks round the building until he sees a sign on the other side - the way in to the campsite - where he sees a notice saying that the barriers are shut between 11pm and 6.30 am. Half an hour before the campers can escape. He locks the car and walks off down to the beach.

When the office staff get in at 8.30 they watch the video and see the man come back for the car at 6.30, punch in the numbers which raise the barrier and drive off. They note down the number of the car and check it against the owners . It's the Stenning car so they go to where the Stenning party is camped and ask if there is an emergency. Someone wishing to drive out at 6 O'clock is so strange, it must be an emergency!

All I want to do is get to a place called Isley Marshes while the early morning light is still good. Now it would be past its best and more people around to disturb the wildlife. Still,  I get to see and photograph the beach before the people arrive. It's beautiful. I lean on the railings and watch the few gulls who have reclaimed the territory.


A man is walking towards me. He has long curly hair and a pleasant face, wearing shorts. He stops, comes up to me and points at the little stream running through the rocks to the sea.

 

"There's a kingfisher comes here most mornings - just down there."

"Wonderful. At this time?"

"Yes, you might be lucky."

"Very difficult to capture on camera though!"

It's nearly 6.30 so I don't wait for the elusive blue streak whistling past, and walk back to collect the car. The satnav leads me down roads with grass growing down the middle; even one with a gate across it. Bloody thing. Now I'm lost and losing time, but my phone finds where we are and sets me on the right road. We used to have maps, printed on paper. Hey ho.
 

I've unshipped the Brompton bike, loaded it with all the gear and set off to find a good place to set up the telescope and do some watching, but the few curlews and gulls around the water's edge are too far off to get any decent images.

The marshes are edged with ancient grassland full of wild flowers and gorse, and the cycle path runs straight as a die towards the north. I stop to look at a patch of land with picnic tables and a curious building. The building looks like a reconstruction of an Iron Age hut, and nearby is evidence that some poor person has been sleeping rough here.

It's good to watch the curlews preening, but nothing much else is happening so after a while I give up. Driving back along the estuary I see a sign saying "Fremington Quay Café & Heritage Centre" so I drive down a long winding single track road to the small café car park "for customers only." I enjoy a coffee and cake and stroll around. A large dark bird is flying out over the mudflats. It's a Peregrine; female. She makes a few passes over the estuary and then disappears. I wish she had turned up when I had the telescope set up.  Still, not a bad morning.