Mad for May Bank Weekend

We basked in the glorious sunshine. The bank holiday mercury hit a balmy 23C, warmer than Bermuda, Benidorm and Bordeaux. Woo hoo temperatures crept up as clouds gave way to sunshine across most of the country, ending the coldest April in 24 years. As April showers turned to May flowers across the country, forecasters told us Brit’s to get ready for a blazing Bank Holiday weekend. Spring had arrived at last and with it, the bright sunny days that we’d felt so starved off recently. 

The world’s favourite season is the spring

All things seemed possible in May

~Edwin Way Teale~

I took Friday off to take advantage of the promised weather. But we woke up to drizzle and the temperature dropped by 10C. The sudden change was due to to the clash of cold air gathering to the north.  That didn’t stop us from driving 240 km for our first visit of the year to RSPB Bempton Cliffs to take part in the fantabulous seabird spectacle. It was 15C in the car when we left the casa. As we drove along the M6, the banks and woods were bursting into life. Blackthorn had just begun flowering with their white snowy blossoms. Blackthorn was easy to recognise cos its blossoms tend to appear early in the year before the leaves. We also drove through miles and miles of rapeseed fields, their yellow flowers brightening the dull drive up north.

We have been visiting these ‘city of birds’ annually now for several years  and it was one of our must see place.  We arrived at a packed reserve at about 12 pm. There must be a school trip because loads of children were having their lunch by the visitor centre. It was very windy, bitterly cold with the sun playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds. After paying £3 for parking, we made our way to use the facilities. Off course, we’d to stop to check out the antics of the Tree Sparrows on the roof of the visitor centre. They were carrying bits of feather and moss to make improvements to their nest.

The air was twittering with birdsongs as we walked past the blackthorn and gorse scrub towards the highest chalk cliffs in Britain at 120 metres above sea-level. These precipitious cliffs were where the Yorkshire Wolds came to an abrupt and sudden end as they met the North Sea. Check out these spectacular views of the dramatic cliffs with dramatic waves crashing and vistas right down the coastline. From here, you can see Flamborough Head to the south-east and Scarborough Bay to the north. 

As we drew closer to the cliffs, the sounds of the seabirds began to grow louder and the aroma of eau de guano stronger. We decided to checkout the view-points on the left and headed towards Bartlett Nab. As we walked along the cliff tops, we were looking down on towering white chalk cliffs and the air was filled with thousands, yes thousands, of wheeling birds. There were so many that it looked like a snowstorm of dense fluttering white flakes. Looking at the busy air traffic, it did cross my mind how on earth there were no mid-air collisions.

As usual, we could hear the loud calls of the very graceful Kittiwakes before we could see them. Their high repeated ‘kitti-waark kitti-waaark’ calls  dominated the sound-scape, screeching for attention like children in the playground. 10% of the UK population lived on these cliffs. True gulls of the open sea, Kittiwakes spent half the year out in the middle of the North Sea and North Atlantic, only returning inland to breed. They have a white head and body, grey back, grey wings tipped solid black, and have black legs and a yellow bill.

Tiny guillemots and smart razorbills buzzed around the cliff face. There was constant noise and motion, birds leaving the nest and heading out over the sea, birds arriving back, landing and jostling. With space being a premium, disputes between neighbours were not uncommon. Check out the Guillemot sitting up-right, penguin-style  on the narrow ledges with its white eye-ring and narrow stripe behind eye. A large flock were seen bobbing in the sea below us and this was because courtship took place in water.

‘The guillemot and other auks all nest on rocky ledges

Their eggs are conical to stop them rolling off the edges,

They sit in groups in coats of black like elders at a wake

But differ from the elders in the kind of noise they make’

~Robert S. Morrison, Words on Birds~

Nearby were the Razorbills. Quite similar but has larger head, shorter neck and heavier bill. As its name implied, the odd bill was laterally compressed, looked a bit formidable and crossed by a white line with another white line running towards the eye. They tucked themselves away in crevices and cracks. The French called them ‘petit pingouin’ but unlike the penguins, they can fly. Although those small wings made it looked a bit of a struggle sometimes.

We braved the strong winds and walked further uphill towards the Jubilee Corner. An Arctic Skua was sighted but it was too far to be photographed. We also had our first ever sighting of a Fulmar, the ‘albatross of the Atlantic’ with its black ink-smudged eye and tubular nostrils. That made the trip worthwhile. Babe reminded me not to get too close to a nesting adult cos it may spit a foul-smelling oil at you. That I couldn’t wait to see but it was just impossible to get close at all.

“Our most elegant companions were the fulmars, the premier acrobats of the waters, who glided in endless loops and circles around us for hour after hour riding close to the waves on stiff wings, their fat fluffy bodies like huge moths.’

~Tim Severin, The Brendanvoyage~

At the Grandstand, I was on the lookout for the adorable puffins but they were nowhere to be seen. A warden spotted one through his scope and I was able to see it. He was fast asleep in a tiny burrow in the cliff. But the supremely handsome Gannet made up for my disappointment. Bempton Cliffs were home to the only mainland breeding colony in England. They were large and bright white birds with black wing tips, a yellowish-orange-coloured head and striking round blue eyes, all beautifully outlined in black. We watched this handsome male gathering materials to repair and maintain their large nest.

We continued towards the New Roll-up. More Gannets were cruising and sometimes we were eyeball to eyeball.  Here the brisk onshore breeze combined with the shape of the cliffs had combined to give the perfect updraft for just hanging on the breeze. A large number congregated here using it as a handy way of making an accurate landing on the cliff edge. We watched PDA’s bonding of bill fencing. When one was planning to fly off to forage at sea, it let its partner know by sky-pointing-repeatedly pointing its bill up towards the sky.

As we were walking towards the next viewpoint, we were distracted by colourful Goldfinches high pitched rapid twitterings playing tag. We were trying to photograph them when a pair of Skylark in territorial mode caught our attention. We were able to witness why the song and song-flight of these birds tempted the poets as we listened to a wonderful soundtrack as they sang their glorious chorus of notes high in the grey skies above us. We were blessed to see them flying up high and then parachuting down filling the air with their beautiful flight songs.

“And still the singing skylark soared

And silent sank and soared to sing”

~Christina Rosetti~

Staple Newk arch was dotted with Gannets. They were definitely thriving here and the numbers kept increasing annually, so much so that they seemed to be absolutely everywhere on the cliffs that they were restricting the smaller birds to the steeper and narrower ledges where the Gannets can’t reach. If this meant that one could appreciate such close encounters without the need to sail out to remote sea outcrops, then I welcomed this population explosion. Gannets pair for life and we were very lucky to see a pair in in flagrante delicto. But I’m sure they were legal :-). After about 3 hours, we headed back to the car for something to warm our cockles.

We’d our sandwiches and coffee on the picnic table outside the visitor centre. We were entertained by hundreds of Tree sparrows popping in and out of the bushes and Jackdaws hopping closer and closer keeping a watch out for scraps. Off course, I just had to drop a few crusts for them. Then we checked out the feeding station. Tree sparrows, Goldfinches, Dunnocks, Wood pigeons, Jackdaws, Greenfinches, Blackbirds, Chaffinches, Reed buntings, Wrens, Blue and Great Tits were taking turns. I was hoping for a Brambling, Linnet, Yellowhammer or Redpoll but not today.

It had been a very long day for us but well worth it for the unique spectacle of a high-rise seabird city perched high above the North Sea on Yorkshire’s spectacular east coast. We looked forward to returning in a month’s time when the chicks had hatched and their parents busy feeding them. We were also hoping to take a ride on the Gannet and Puffin Cruise for a sea-level encounter with the Bempton’s seabirds, fingers-crossed. I’m soo looking forward to this 360 degree birding experience where the boat took you right up to the base of the cliffs.

“Seabirds are ideal symbols for ocean conservation. Because they live in a variety of habitats- including ocean, islands, estuaries and beaches- they can show visitors how all coastal life is connected and spark new interest in coastal conservation. Long-term conservation success hinges on public understanding and community support.”

~Stephen Kress, Bird Conservation Director, Seabird Restoration Program~

After yesterday’s adventure, we spent Saturday chilling out at home. I spent the day pottering about in the garden. There was a lot of things to do. The curly kale had bolted and off they went into the compost bin aka The Dalek. I prepared the ground for the next crop, most probably sweet corn. On the next raised bed, I replanted the Bright Light chards. I’m looking forward to these colourful crop. The perpetual spinach and purple kale were still going strong. A Common Blue, my first sighting of a butterfly in the garden, flew in and kept me company along with the shy House Sparrows, noisy Starlings, soothing Robins and cheeky Tits.

On Sunday, we drove to Hatton Village because I wanted to check out a Vintage Fair. But we changed our mind and drove to Hatton Locks instead. And we weren’t alone. It was a magical day, and for once the weather contributed to that. The golden orb inched its way higher, brighter and warmer into the perfect blue sky. We’d miles and miles of blue sky, fluffy white cotton clouds and plenty, plenty of Vitamin D. We spent hours here, just soaking up the sun, relishing the warmth, drinking in the views, photographing everything, admiring the engineering works of the canal, and off course, people watching. The world seemed like a whole different place when the sun is shining and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Long may it continue, though having lived in old Blighty for the past 17 years, I’m well aware that next week I could be in wellingtons and a raincoat :-).

The Hatton Locks were a flight of 21 locks on the Grand Union Canal in Hatton. The flight spanned 3.2 km of canal and a total rise of 45 metres. The flight was opened in December 1799 on the Warwick and Birmingham Canal.  The widening was completed in the mid-1930s using a workforce of 1,000. The new and revolutionary concrete lock system was opened by The Prince George, Duke of Kent.

The flight was known by boaters as the "stairway to heaven" due to the difficulty of the flight and the subsequent easier journey to Camp Hill where the working boatmen received their wages. We were in luck because a few canal boats were taking turns to operate the locks. It was a very slow process because of the time it took for for each lock to increase or decrease the water level. What an amazing piece of engineering. We followed the canal boats as they made their slow crawl uphill.

We turned back at the 21st lock and walked downhill. Off course, it was obligatory for a pit-stop at the cafe for their delicious Farmhouse ice-cream. The old stable block, where canal horses bedded down for the night, had become the café. We sat by the canal just absorbing the atmosphere. It was a perfect place to enjoy the picturesque scenery and watch the world go by and co-existing in perfect harmony, summing up the peaceful pace of life. The sun somehow lifted the spirits in a way like nothing else can. There was no prettier place on earth than England on a sunny day. Then we took a nice, slow stroll downhill where we could see the views down to St Mary’s Church in Warwick. The old wharf and maintenance yard, where carpenters and blacksmiths made heavy oak lock gates, had been restored to create offices and a heritage skills training centre. We walked past blackthorn hedges laden with flowers to the accompaniment of bird-songs. Unfortunately, the birds were well-hidden behind the thick bushes except for this Grey Wagtail who was busy hunting for flies. We didn’t take a long walk as we’d to walk back to the car and it was a very warm day. Not that I’m complaining. On Bank holiday Monday, we made our way to Stoneleigh Park again to check out the National Kit Car Motor Show.   A kit car, also known as a "component car", was a car that was available as a set of parts that a manufacturer sold and the buyer either assembled into a car themselves, or retained a third party to do part or all of the work on their behalf. Many of the major mechanical systems such as the engine and transmission were sourced from donor vehicles or purchased from other vendors new. Kits varies ranging from as little as a book of plans to a completed set with all components included. Many kit cars were given a 'Q' registration plate which signified a vehicle of unknown or mixed age. All kit cars were subjected to a Vehicle Identity Check (VIC) to determine the registration mark a kit car was assigned. This was either, a new, current year, registration; an 'age-related' registration; or a 'Q' plate. Once a kit car had been registered, a V5C, or log book, was assigned and the kit car treated in the same way as a production car, from any larger manufacturer. If the age identifier assigned to a kit car was before 1973 the vehicle might be road taxed free of charge. According to figures given to the Kit Car magazine the most popular kit in the UK was made by Robin Hood Sportscars. Manufacturers in the UK were actively supported by Owners Clubs, some being marque specific, while others followed a specific type, such as Cobra replicas and others were area related. Since this exhibition was the world’s largest Kit Car Show, it was a unique opportunity for us  to see more Kit Cars in one place than at any other event on the planet.

After paying £15 each, we walked through the turnstiles and wow, miles and miles of 4000 privately owned kit cars on display. If there was a kit made, then there was almost certainly a Club to support it! We just don’t know where to start. They were amazing masterpieces. We could see a lot of love, sweat and £££ involved. The proud owners were as quirky as the car they owned. We heard screeching tyres and the smell of burnt diesel caught our attention. We followed our nose and walla, we arrived at the Westfield Sports Car trade-stand. There was a crowd surrounding a safety barrier and we saw lots and lots of smoke billowing and heard the thundering growl of a super car. We managed to squeeze in and watched an amazing display from the company’s experienced test drivers putting the cars through their paces. For a £10 fee, visitors can experience the adrenalin in the passenger seat. It was very popular as we saw the long queue waiting for their turn.

Babe asked me whether I wanted a go but I chickened out. I might have a go but not in front of hundreds of people watching my reaction. I asked Babe and he said he wants to be in the driving seat. Typical. We noticed that the drivers were very considerate when they’d young passengers but not if you’re an adult. We saw them really pushing the car a little bit faster or spinning a little bit quicker with sideways action in abundance. It was a crowd thriller. 

Westwood was the largest British owned manufacturer of kits and niche vehicles in Europe, exporting both kits and cars worldwide through a network of factory-trained dealers. We took a stroll down ‘Westfield Avenue’ into their marquee enclosure where oohed and aahed over their amazing displays. Then we took cover from the glaring sun inside Stoneleigh’s extensive 5 exhibition hall complex. It was like an Aladdin’s cave. 400 trade stands, selling everything a car builder needs. Whether it was a nut and bolt or a complete performance engine, you’re bound to be able to find it here. There were also new car launches and among them was Jean Marie-Coultault (JMC) radical bodykit for a standard Westfield chassis. Roadrunner launched a new LM1 and Tribute Automotive a new Toyota MR2 based panel kit. There must more than a billion pounds worth of cars here.   If you don’t fancy building your own from scratch, there was Cars for Sale hall, where there was a diverse array of cars up for sale, with prices to suit every pocket. Babe kept on reminding me that we can’t afford them and if we could it was not practical for our lifestyle. I know… it was like having a car for playing and then putting it away in the garage. We headed back again to the privately owned kit cars displayed on almost 100 different stands. I also noticed that the owners were getting younger and younger too. We left as more kit cars packed up and vroom through the leafy Warwickshire countryside.

It had been a mad but wonderful May bank weekend for us. I hoped everyone, too, were enjoying the May Bank Holiday with Spring in their steps.

"Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on."

~Heinrich Heine, Book of Songs~