La Belle Sauvage en Malaisie

It’s a funny thing coming home.

Nothing changes.

Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same.

You realize what’s changed, is you.

~Eric Roth~

It was time for my bi-annual trip back to Malaysia and I was so looking forward to it. This was the first time I flew back in June and not December. A number of reasons and among them was that my father was seriously ill earlier this year and although he pulled through, I needed to see him for myself. My brother-in-law passed away last August and I couldn’t fly back. I wanted to be there for my sister and her children for the first Eid without him. And this was also my first Eid celebration after 22 years away. It was also to celebrate a new Malaysia, as the 60 year old ruling party was defeated in the May elections and she’d her first women deputy prime minister and the oldest prime minister in the world.

Babe took the first photograph of my flight as it flew over Brandon Marsh. He went there as soon as he left me at the airport. The trip from Birmingham to Dubai went smoothly and I was chuffed that Emirates had the film Black Panther on board. Apart from watching some other unmemorable films, I spent the 6.6 hours journey doing Sudoku, playing CandyCrush and reading Phillip Pullmans latest novel ‘La Belle Sauvage’. I was only in transit for 2 hours but the flight was delayed for nearly an hour because they were waiting for passengers from other flights. It was the umrah season and there were many Malaysian pilgrims making their way home for Eid.

The flight arrived in Malaysia 1.5 hours late. I e-mailed Babe while waiting for my luggage which due to the number of passengers, was taking a while to arrive. He knew my flight details because he was monitoring it remotely. As  soon as I exited from the arrival entrance, I could see my sister waving enthusiastically. Poor girl. She’d been waiting for nearly 2 hours. After hugs and kisses from her and my nephews, we made our way home. I called my father who was waiting at home and then Babe, to say that I’d arrived safely. As soon as we arrived at my sister’s house, my father was already waiting under the porch. After the obligatory bear hugs, he said a prayer of thanks for my safe journey.

We chatted while I’d a late lunch. Everyone else was fasting for Ramadan and I was exempted due to the long journey. Then a cold shower before heading for bed. They woke me up about an hour before breaking fast time. All the children were home to break their fast and the dining table was groaning, loaded with food. It was a smorgasbord that looked like a visual encyclopaedia of Malay cooking. During Ramadan, food stalls propped up selling all sorts of food and each of the children bought something home to be added to the table. My sister had 6 children and going food shopping when you’re fasting wasn’t a good idea. The table was so full that another table was added so that we could eat together.

We’d a fabulous polishing the food. I missed having long dinners around the table, enjoying each other’s company, sharing the day’s news over lovely food, fostering that sense of belonging. It was nearly 2 hours before everyone left the table and the men missed their tarawikh prayers. Oops …We continued chatting right through the night and the telephone started ringing as my cousins and aunties got the news that I was back. My sister and I didn’t sleep at all as we waited for sahur, the meal before sunrise. This was the only meal we were having for the day until the sun sets at about 7.30 pm.

As usual, I called Babe every morning at 7 am, Malaysia time which was 12am UK time. Malaysia was 7 hours ahead which meant that when I said good morning to Babe, he would wish me good night. After all these years, it was still confusing. I spent most morning reading La Belle Sauvage which was very intriguing. Later in the afternoon, my sister and I would go to the supermarket and wet market to get stuff for the evening meal. Since I was here, I got to choose the menu, which was very exciting. There was soo much food that I wanted to eat and so little time. We don’t start cooking until about 5 pm. Since it was so hot, everyone had a siesta for about an hour. That helped to pass the time and the hunger.

About 5 pm, my sister and I were in the kitchen preparing the meals. My father was always around to supervise and helped a bit. The children would call to ask if there was anything we wanted to add to the meal. Often, they came home to take me out to these pop-up food stalls which was mind blowing, selling all kinds of delicacies. One of the most distinguishing aspect of Ramadan in Malaysia were the Ramadan bazaars that were popping at almost every corner, selling a huge array of mouth-watering delicacies to break your fast with. A visit were a feast for the senses, as we were assaulted with all kinds of aromatic smells wafting in the air as we walked from one end to another. It was easy to get carried away, buying more than what we could eat, which defeated the purpose of the holy month. Most often, those who were working just bought the food to eat at home. People from other races were also seen out and about as this was also the time for them to buy and taste authentic Malay cooking. I tended to buy savouries and the barbecued meats.

The fasting don’t deter us from making preparations to welcome Eid. The excitement had built up usually on the first day of Ramadan itself, where families started shopping for new clothes and accessories, baking cookies and decorating their homes. Brightly coloured twinkling lights were seen adorning houses, mosques and shopping complexes. There was the visits to various banks to ask for money envelopes which were given free with their logo printed on it. These were filled with money and given to young children or the elderly.

The festival of Eid was announced on Friday the 15th. It marked the end of Ramadan and was on the first day of the month of Syawal. It was the day (beginning at sunset) of the first sighting of the crescent moon shortly after sunset. The day before Eid, my sister was busy preparing the obligatory rendang, a rich and tender chicken stew made with chicken, spices and coconut milk. It was cooked on a low heat for hours and you have to sit beside it to stir it occasionally to make sure it doesn’t burn. We left this to my nephews with my father supervising them.

Later at night, one of my nephew invited me to Kuala Lumpur to see last night of Ramadan shopping. During Ramadan, one of the major shopping area, Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman was transformed into a night market where petty traders and hawkers sold an assortment of Raya goodies in the open air. This stretch of road was flanked by pre-war buildings whose distinctive facades had been preserved and readapted to accommodate modern retailing businesses. Here, cars were parked haphazardly with the stalls spilling into the street. What a festive atmosphere. Raya songs was blaring into the night, with the honking of horns and from time to time and firework displays lit up the skies. You have to have your wits with you and lots and lots of patience. Traffic barely moved that we were able to stop beside a cookie stall and bought tubs of cookies before joining the traffic. No one bat an eye-lid. Everyone was in a good mood.

On the way home, we stopped at Dataran Merdeka to watch the clock chimed at midnight. It was situated in front of the Sultan Abdul Samad Building, a late 19th century building which originally housed the offices of the British colonial administration. It was here the Union Flag was lowered and the Malaysian flag hoisted for the first time at midnight on 31st August 1957. Since then, Dataran Merdeka had been the venue for the annual Merdeka parade. In front of the building was located a 95 metre flagpole, one of the tallest in the world. When the clock struck 12 midnight, the 5 of us stood under the flag and sang Negara ku, the national anthem. There were a lot of visitors about and they joined in and later everyone clapped their hands and shouted Merdeka, Merdeka. It was hilarious but so much fun.

On Eid morning, everyone got up early and dressed in their best clothes. Blue was the colour they chose this year and they even got me a beautiful long maxi.The males went to the mosque to perform the Eid prayers with hundreds of other Muslims. Before performing the prayers, one of my nephew paid the zakat for the whole family. Zakat was the 3rd pillar of Islam, a mandatory charitable contribution which would be distributed to the poor. While the men were in the mosque, the women stayed at home to prepare the Eid meals. We could go to the mosque if we wanted to. About 2 hours later, the men returned and all of us enjoyed the special celebratory meals.  After that was the posing for the obligatory family portrait and then going around asking for forgiveness, with the youngest starting first.

After the Friday prayers, we headed to my late brother-in-law’s grave. The cemetery was busy with families paying their respects. We laid flowers and my father said prayers. RIP Khamarul. Then we got ready to drive back to Port Dickson to visit my late Mother’s grave. We headed straight to the cemetery, laid flowers and said prayers. I was chuffed to find a bird nest with 2 tiny eggs on a shrub that we planted on top of her grave. Even the birds wanted to keep my mother company. Then straight home and found out that there was no electricity!!! One of my nephew called the electric company and they came straight away. After they’d restored the electricity, we invited them in for cookies and coffee. It was Eid after all. Later that night, the youngsters were outside letting off fireworks,  firecrackers and sparklers. They were having a competition with a few houses around the village and all you could hear were the sound of exploding fireworks echoing. They were trying to do each other with massive displays and huge bangs.

The next day, all of us headed out searching for breakfast. Most shops were closed because it was still the holiday and festive season but we found one by the beach. We’d a leisurely breakfast before planning our itinerary for the day. My father wanted to go back to my maternal grandmother’s home about 2 hours drive away. Usually, the first three days of Eid were reserved for visiting relatives. In Malaysia, the first 2 days were public holidays but most people took a week off. Those working in the cities returned to their hometowns and reunited with their parents and old friends, leaving the cities quiet and empty. And the roads leaving the cities would experience a horrendous traffic jam as people made their exodus.

We closed the house, packed our stuff and went to my late Mother’s grave to say goodbye. On the way to my grandmother’s, we stopped at my favourite place to feed the monkeys. There were already a few cars by the lay-by throwing fruits to them. A few came over to check us out. As soon as they saw  a car stopping, they would come close and waited in anticipation. They never climbed on top of the cars like the monkeys in the safari parks here in the UK. We threw bananas, water melons and carrots from the safety of our cars. We didn’t stay long.

Our first stop was at my Grandmother’s house. The place was buzzing as all the children and grandchildren had turned up. It was a tradition that on the first day, everyone congregated at the most senior family home. It was a joyous occasion filled with festive cheer and merriment.  My poor aunties were swept off their feet, entertaining and preparing the meals. It was lovely catching up with everyone, some of whom even my father had not seen for a long time. Eid was seen as a time for reconciliation and the renewal of family ties and it was touching to see the festive season beyond feasting and celebration. We let the visitors had the first share of the food as they were leaving together to visit another relative in another town.

When they’d left, my aunties took the opportunity to have their lunch before the next visitors arrived. Before we left, it was the obligatory photograph on the steps with the tribe. Most of the houses in the village were built on stilts which was originally built to avoid wild animals, floods, as a deterrent for thieves and most importantly, for added ventilation. Steps were built to reach the elevated interior and there were additional steps at the back of the house. Nowadays, the lower spaces were normally boarded up and made into extra rooms or garages.

Our next visit was to another aunt’s house in another village. She had not been well and it was a great opportunity to pay her a visit. Again, her house was packed as all her children and grandchildren were here celebrating the festive season. My cousins worked all over the country and because of the long holiday season, Eid was the only time they could all meet and celebrate together. It was a golden opportunity to catch up while indulging in the various delicacies. And what better place than at their parents house. Once a year, this house was filled to the brim again. I was also chuffed that another cousin who had studied at the University of Kent was also there.

Our last visit was to another aunt, this time from my father’s side, in Seremban. I haven’t been to their house since I moved to the UK and there were a lot of changes in the area. I stayed in a boarding school in Seremban and it felt strange coming back. It had changed so much. My Aunt was at home with my eldest cousins but the rest of the tribe were out visiting their friends. We didn’t stay long as it was getting late and we’d received news that all the roads into Kuala Lumpur were congested. Before we left, I took the opportunity to check out this amazing playhouse that my cousin had built for his children. It was a replica of a traditional Malay house.

 

One of my nephew, Erif, celebrated his 20th birthday and we surprised him with a huge party at  the Aroi Dee Thai restaurant  located at the Palm Garden Hotel IOI Resort City where my niece used to work. We told him that it was a dinner for me and you could see how shocked he was when the waiter brought the cake after we finished our dinner. We embarrassed him more by singing Happy birthday and the hotel staff and the rest of the diners joined in. It was wonderful. He was so overwhelmed that he shed some tears. Happy birthday Eriff and may you have everything you wished for.

The restaurant had moved to a new location by the golf course. The name ‘Aroi Dee’ simply meant ‘great taste’ in Thai and that was what we were served at this lovely restaurant. As usual, we started the meal with Tom Yam seafood, a spicy and sour soup. Then the main meal which consisted of Kai Kha Tak (sizzling chicken style), Near Pad Prik Thai Dam (stir fried beef with black pepper), Plar Neang Si Eaw (steamed fish with ginger and soy sauce) and fried mixed vegetables. All eaten with fragrant steamed Jasmine rice. We finished the hot, spicy meal with a cool dessert which was Tab Tim Crab (water chestnut with chilled coconut cream). We’d a wonderful time polishing the meal.

My niece later accompanied me to Kuala Lumpur because I wanted to get some souvenirs and tee-shirts for Babe. We took the LRT (Light Rail Transit) from Pucong to Kuala Lumpur. It took us only an hour and we whizzed past some amazing sceneries. It was very strange that only 20 years ago, the housing estates that we passed through were either tin mines, oil palm and rubber plantations. All these industries were now long gone and replaced with homes while the people worked in the cities. That was also why LRT were built to make it easier for people to get to work and discouraged them from driving. The train were running every 15 minutes and fares were reasonably priced.

We disembarked on the Central Market station which was just a few minutes away from our destination, which was the Central Market. The original building was built in 1888 by the British and was originally used as a wet market. The current Art Deco style building was completed in 1937. It has been classified as a Heritage Site by the Malaysian Heritage Society and was now a landmark for Malaysian culture and heritage. It had stalls representing the different items and ethnic groups living harmoniously within Malaysia.

We stopped for lunch at one of the hundred stalls scattered around the area. We didn’t eat in the Central Market because it was quite expensive. We’d Indian style fried noodles with satay and washed down with a tall glass of iced lemon tea. Then we went back indoors to get a few tee-shirts for Babe and a few obligatory souvenirs. At first, I planned to check out the famous Petaling Street but it was too hot to wander about. We bought a few traditional cakes for tea and headed home.

We were shocked when one of my nephew, Evin, was hospitalised for a week with dengue, a viral infection. The viruses were transmitted through the bite of infected Aedes aegypti and Aedes albopictus female mosquitoes that fed both indoors and outdoors during the daytime (from dawn to dusk). Thankfully, it don’t spread from person to person. We still took precautions by closing the house at dusk and sprayed with mosquito repellant and burning mosquito coils indoors. It was a common outbreak in Malaysia and monthly Spray Chamber Thermal (Fogging) and Environment Fumigation Spray (ULV) were carried out.

I’d a very busy time visiting relatives and friends, shopping, travelling and eating out. There was so much catching up to do during the three weeks I was in Malaysia. In between, I managed to watch the World Cup when it was played on terrestrial tv. The popular team matches were played on subscription tv which we don’t have. It was quite difficult to follow due to the different time zone. I was chuffed to see England playing well. I also read Philip Pullman’s La Belle Sauvage at every opportunity. The camera was never far away and I love this shot of my youngest nephew, Eris, imitating the pose of his pet cat, Oranjie. Both of them were real posers.

After 3 weeks, it was time to fly back to the UK. I’d a wonderful time with my family but I have commitments in the UK. My heart was in Malaysia, but my life was here in the UK. The whole family took the day off to send me which I found hilarious. I stopped at the hospital to say good-bye to Evin. Since it was an early flight, we decided to have breakfast at the airport. Then it was time for good-byes and hugs. It was very hard to say good-bye to my elderly father but cie la vie.

“The magic thing about home is that it feels good to leave,

And it feels even better to come back”

~Wendy Wunder~

I Know What It Would Be Like In A World Where It Was Always June*

We started the month by joining the thousands of petrolheads that poured into the city for the Coventry Motofest, a motoring extravaganza. This was the fourth year it had been run.  As Coventry was the birthplace of the British cycle and motor industry, a 3 day festival was dedicated to the city’s motoring heritage featuring pop-up racing and demonstrations events to static displays and fringe events. It was like an Edinburgh Festival for cars, bikes and vehicles. Like previous years, the organisers had taken advantage of Coventry’s unique heritage as the spiritual home of the British motor industry. The Friargate-bridge deck and nearby Greyfriars Green were awashed with static displays of cars, motorbikes and simulators to keep fans of all ages happy.

But first, since the infamous ring-road was closed to traffic, we’d to find a place to park. Thankfully, my colleague who lived within a walking distance, offered us to park at his place. Whoop… whoop. Thanks GLW. We walked past a huge fairground at Grosvenor Road to where the action was. We hadn’t even reached the ring-road yet but the incredible noise of highly tuned engines revving up, the screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes were in the air. Thousands of people were already packed on both sides of the ring-road but somehow we managed to squeeze in.

As it was closed to traffic, the ring road was used as both a pit lane and circuit. The 1.5 mile long temporary track took in a section of the ring-road beginning just before the slip road on J6, before heading all the way down to J4 and then returning to finish at J6 again. The circuit’s official start line began at the slip road just before J6, setting off into the Friargate tunnel. On the circuit, drivers negotiated chicanes before heading under J5 at Holyhead Road, with a ‘turn around’ in the central reservation. The track featured a series of crash barriers and marshal points, along with various viewing areas and spectator zones along the route.

Throughout the weekend, various events and cavalcades took place, including those from Jaguar Land Rover, Ferrari, Tesla, Viezu, Aston Martin owners club, Jaguar Heritage, Sytner BMW and Mini, Triumph Motorbikes, AP Racing,Mercedes AMG F1 simulator, British Motor Museum, Extreme Wheelie and various Classic car clubs . We were thoroughly spoilt.

We hung around the Friargate-bridge deck waiting for things to happen. . We were waited and waited and waited for something to happen. Nothing seemed to be moving. Looking around, I noticed a major flaw. Advertising banners lined the barriers making it impossible for someone like me who is 165 cm to see what was going on the road. Imagine for someone on mobility scooters and the young children. They wouldn’t be able to see anything. A few children were seen climbing on the barriers which were very dangerous. I did sent the organisers a tweet and a few people retweeted it. The organisers responded saying that they were going to do a post-mortem later in the evening.

After about 20 minutes of standing around waiting, we heard the sound of motorcycles being revved.  Then we were covered with clouds of smoke and the smell of burning rubber before the riders made their way towards the starting line. All manners of motorbikes and even a high performance mobility scooter went zooming trying to outdo each other. A few revved up and did a wheelie that thrilled the crowd.

Next was the competition car parade which went on for quite a while as there was a large number taking part. Unfortunately, there was an oil spill somewhere and they’d to stop the parade and clean the mess. While they sort that out, we wandered around the ring road live action arena, where a welter of events were held. We checked out a long list of exotic, iconic and classic machinery. Among them was the power maxed racing BTCC Vauxhall Astra which marked Vauxhall’s return to the British touring car racing. When it took  part in the circuit, it was driven by Paul Hollywood, the Great British Bake-off judge.  Then there was the ferocious racing Nissan GTR super-coupe, the hair-raising Silk,  Cut-liveried Jaguar XJR-9 and off course, the Jaguar XJ13.

The Power Maxed BTCC car was supplemented by an array of classic touring cars from past series and McLarens past and present including the 12c Spider and 650s Spider from the McLarens Owners Club. One owner thought Babe was a professional photographer and asked if he wanted the doors opened to show off the interiors. Yesss, please.  We photographed to our hearts content before the masses joined in. Thank you, kind sir.

We walked towards the city centre searching for the live action circuit, which I think was the highlight of the festival, but they were AWOL. Why did the organisers moved them away from the main spectator area??? One more thing, the map wasn’t easy to navigate so temporary signposts should be put up to direct spectators to where the action was. Along the way, we  checked out the very long queue for the Landrover experience where spectators took part in the test drive of the famous 4x4. The police car was a big hit with the kids as they took turn to sit in one and switched on the alarm. That was a very good PR exercise.

There were stalls selling all kinds of exotic food from modified vans. They were making a very brisk  business judging from the long queues. For the first time, there was the Wall of Death which again was another hit. In the Bullyard, crowds were gathering for the extreme wheelie and by the fountain were classic bikes on show. It seemed that every public areas (and pedestrianised zones) had become a stage to celebrate Coventry’s automotive and engineering pedigree.

We headed towards Broadgate where there was music from Hope Coventry mingling with a myriad of privately owned classics. Hope Coventry was an organization formed to grow a connected church in Coventry for the benefit of the city. They support initiatives such as Winter Night Shelter and Healing on the Streets. But the connection to Motofest was a mystery to me. We checked out a few classic cars with their very friendly and proud owners who were more than happy to chat about their pride and joy.

We headed towards Ikea where we watched from a distance, a drifting arena under the flyover. We didn’t get close because we don’t want shredded tyres covering us. Under the shadow of the Plaza were modern bikes, Bennets and Helmet Drop. It was fabulous walking around the city-centre where we found little pockets of enthusiasts. In short, if it’s got something to do with transport, had a connection to the City of Coventry and involved an engine, it was here.

To me, the main attraction to these exhibition was the golden opportunity for spectators to get up close and personal with the array of spectacular vehicles from the past, present and future with no barriers or viewing restrictions. It was a challenge taking photographs too because everything was photo-bombed:-) There were also plenty of displays through out the city centre which we didn’t have the chance to visit.

Then it was back at the ring-road to watch the action again. It was back to the motorbikes again. The programme were repeated and we were back to where we started from. We decided to call it a day as it had been a long day for us. We found something missing at the Motorfest, a certain je ne sais quoi. Although there were the incredible noise of highly tuned engines revving up, the screeching tyres, the smell of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes were in the air and hundreds of people about, it didn’t had the vow factor. I felt it had been too commercialised with the fairgrounds, the advertising banners blocking the views and the missing live action arena. It was around, we just couldn’t find it

.After a high octane weekend, I chilled out with walking group during my lunch break. It was just a 30 minutes walk with a group of ladies from different departments in the university. It was a very good excuse to get out of the library for fresh air and socialise. The walk was a bonus. On one of the walks, I heard a familiar, distinctive whinnying trill when we walked past the ‘nursery’ lake. I scanned the waters and spotted a Little grebe. And then out of the reedbeds, 2 adorable stripey chicks started swimming towards the parent. Aaaaww…

I asked Babe to bring the cameras and after work, we scanned the lake again. They were still there, feeding, swimming and diving. I was so delighted to see them thriving here. The chicks were covered in light grey down and had the distinctive striped heads and necks. They were old enough to dive for small fishes, crustaceans and molluscs. When disturbed, they quickly dived and appeared amongst the reeds, lurking silently.

They were disturbed by this family of Mute Swans with 8 most adorable, fluffy cygnets swimming in a straight line. Mum was leading the way and Dad was at the back. Cygnets were generally dingy brown above and whitish below.  They retained their grey feathers until they were a year old, with the down on their wings replaced by flight feathers. They remained with their parents for 4-5 months and might be driven off the breeding territory as soon as their plumage was predominantly white during late autumn or winter.

”The swan, with arched beck

Between her white wings mantling proudly,

Rows her state with oary feet”

~John Milton~

The University also welcomed Stage 3 of the 2017 Women’s Cycle tour. We all gathered and lined Gibbert Hill Road to cheer them on. This year they didn’t cycled through University Road because the examinations were still on. We were given a pair of bright orange inflatable noisemaker called bangers where you banged them together and they made the most tremendous noise. Children from the nursery also turned up and what a memorable experience was it for them.

About half an hour before the cyclists were due, the road was cleared of traffic. And every time someone drove past, we cheered and banged the bangers. They reciprocated by tooting their horns. It was hilarious and very noisy. From the gatehouse roundabout, we saw a convoy of police and escort motorcyclist s leading the way and all you could hear was this deafening noise of the bangers being bashed against each other.

The whole group of cyclist were all bunched together, cycling furiously. The atmosphere was electric, and it reached maximum cacophony when the group whizzed past us. After the cyclists were hundreds of transporters carrying the cyclists equipment . In about 15 minutes, the road was empty. The entourage had carried on to Kenilworth. Then we headed back to work. What an anti-climax

On the weekend, we went to Leamington Spa to check on the Peregrine Falcons. I have been following the family on Twitter. Warwickshire Wildlife Trust and Warwick District Council Council had set up a live webcam feed of the Peregrine Falcons nesting on the tower of Leamington Town Hall. The first egg was laid on the 18/3 and the 4th egg was on 26th March. Incubation took place between 29-33 days.

By the 28th April, all 4 chicks hatched. They hatched over a period of a couple of days and the size differences were quite visible. Most of the brooding and feeding was carried out by the female, while the male hunt to supply the food. And he was a good hunter, bringing in lots of food mostly pigeons. I loved watching them snoozing together huddled in an indistinguishable mass of creamy-white down. These chicks called eyases looked quite comical as they toddled about with their disproportionately large feet.

They fledged at 35-42 days and remained dependent on their parents for up to two months. As soon as I found out that they’d fledged, it was the only opportunity to see them. We walked straight down the main street keeping an eye on the sky. We came across someone with a telescope trained on the tower. We’d a chat and he informed us that the Peregrines were out and about. We walked a bit further down and spotted one perching on one of the balconies. Woo…hoo.

All you could hear were our cameras rattling away. Unfortunately, we attracted attention and as usual were bombarded with hundreds of questions from passersby. We were on the high street so there was no place to hide. Some even crossed the road to enquire what we were looking at. We missed a lot of Peregrine actions because of the interruptions. So we walked to the back of the Town Hall where a huge crowd was gathering.

Warwickshire Wildlife Trust had set up a Peregrine watch with telescopes trained on the birds. We joined in the party and had fantastic views of the young birds. We could see the blue-grey above, with a blackish top of the head and an obvious black ‘moustache’ that contrasted with its white face. One was peering over the edge, cocking its head to size something with one enormous eye. Suddenly, it was off, arrow-like, steepling down from the balcony. The most amazing predator on the planet on earth, a symbol of power and speed, and of urban birding.

From Leamington Spa, we headed to Canley Community Centre to attend a Malaysian Cultural Ramadan event that was organised by a friend. It was part of the Positive Images Festival to celebrate the amazing heritage of and cultural traditions of Coventry’s communities. It was also a good opportunity for me to introduce Babe to the home-cooked Malaysian food that was on sale. We purchased quite a lot for our breaking fast meal. The event was well attended by people from all over the world. We left after watching a cultural performance.

We celebrated summer solstice with a trip to Slimbridge WWT. Actually, we made 2 trips to Slimbridge in June for a very special event. Because of that it would have its own special posting. Meanwhile, the longest day of the year had arrived bringing 16 hours and 38 minutes of daylight. The sun rose at 4.43 am and sets at 9.31 pm. Midsummer’s eve was believed to be a time when the veil between this world and the next was at its thinnest and when fairies were thought to be at their most powerful.

There were no fairies in the garden to cast spells but we were bewitched by this family of Goldfinches feeding below the rose arch. Their crimson faces and gold flash along the wings added a touch of tropical to the birdfeeders. The bills, adapted for winkling seeds from flower heads, was sharp tipped, and close up the goldfinch’s faces, dipped in scarlet war paint, had a mean expression.They jockeyed and bickered on the feeders, their voices a chatter of chinks, a sound like loose marbles in a pocket. We were delighted to see a juvenile following its parents to feed.

“Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop
From low hung branches; little space they stop;
But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek;

Then off at once, as in a wanton freak:
Or perhaps, to show their black, and golden wings
Pausing upon their yellow flutterings

Were I in such a place, I sure should pray

That nought less sweet, might call my thoughts away”

~John Keats, 1817~

Our final adventure of the month was a trip to the deep English countryside. I’d took the day off as soon as I found out about them. On 25th June, news spread out that seven European Bee-eaters had touched down in East Leake CEMEX Quarry, near Loughborough. They had set up home and looked like trying to produce some little Bee-eaters with a little luck.  We left very early at 7.39 am, hopefully to avoid the crowds.

Heading along the A6006, we nearly missed the make-shift car-park in a field kindly provided by a local farmer. Without this temporary car-park, it would be difficult area to park.  I wasn’t surprised to see a large number of cars already there. After paying £5 which was shared between the farmer and RSPB, we were welcomed by a warden who guided us to the viewing point. We walked across a very busy road through the 2nd gate, on a bridleway that had been recently cut where we past many smiling punters returning to their cars.

These exotic, kaleidoscopic visitors usually bred in Southern Europe and Africa and were incredibly rare breeders in the UK. Bee-eaters were Schedule 1 birds, giving them the maximum level of legal protection meant that anyone who disturbed them could face jail. RSPB had put a plan into place to protect the colony by setting up a safe viewing area with the help of a local farmer and the quarry-owners and making sure no-one wandered into the active quarry. Volunteers were appointed to marshal the car-park and guide to the viewing spot, and 2 wardens to protect the birds for the duration of their stay.

Bee-eaters nest in burrows and banks, features that were prominent at the quarry. They were prolific excavators, using their long bills and sharp talons to dig away the soil to create nest burrows around 3 metres often in sand banks, in which they laid 3-8 white eggs. They were sociable birds and nest together in small groups. The fact that there was an odd number of birds don’t meant that any left out of breeding. Often pairs enlisted a single, younger bird to help bring food and rear their chicks. Bringing up junior was very much a community effort.

It was a distinctly British’s summer day, grey and cold when we were there.  From a distance, we could see a large crowd with their cameras, scopes and binoculars facing a large ash tree, across a quarry. We managed to find a space and followed their eye line and hey presto, little rainbows against a cloudy sky. Small shapes flitted between the top-most branches. There were three sitting together in the dead branches at the crown of the tree, taking turns to dart up and catch bees, butterflies and dragon-flies, which they tossed into the air before catching them again in their blade-like beaks. Playing with your food, to disable the sting, was necessary if you’re a Bee-eater.

These exotic-looking birds featured a stunning, rich-coloured plumage of patches of bright blue, orange, yellow and ginger. Through the binoculars, I saw the ruby red eyes, burnished copper crown, yellow throat, green-hued tail streamers and bright blue breast. These polychromatic wonder do deserve  their alternative name, the Rainbow bird. After about 20 minutes, 2 more alighted into the trees. Time and time again, they would glide out from their perches hawking for food. We saw the male which was much more bronze on the wing than the greener female, feeding an insect to the female. Courtship feeding occurred before and during egg laying. They were never still, calling, flying, feeding and mating. They were just fantastic to watch.

Bee-eater sightings had been on the increase in the UK, pushed northwards by climate change. They would likely be established visitors and RSPB were working hard to provide the right habitats to accommodate them. Thank you to the wardens, volunteers, the local farmer, Cemex and Notts Wildlife Trust for making the experience so straight forward and to these exotic beauties for making the visit so memorable. Fingers-crossed, we will be back again when the chicks fledged.

June was Father’s Day in the UK. Although it wasn’t a major celebration in Malaysia, I still wished my father a Happy Father’s Day. He’d always been loyal to me and I know he was proud of me. That meant everything to me. I always called him every Saturday without fail for a brief chat about this and that and the love we shared could be felt although we were thousands of miles apart. I felt his smiles and imagined his twinkly eyes as we spoke. Happy Father’s Day Abah. I loved you with all my heart.

“My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person:

He believed in me.”

~Jim Valvano~

June was a sad month for me and my family. My beloved Mum left us 2 years ago and it still felt like yesterday. At home in Malaysia, my father organised a prayer reading for her and invited relatives, close friends, neighbours and religious men from the mosque. Here, I prayed in the mosque and since it was Ramadan, contributed fruits to the breaking fast meal.

Al-Fatehah.

“A mother’s hug lasts long after she lets go.”

~Unknown~

We ended the month with the sighting of the new moon. One of the most joyous days in the Islamic calendar, Eid al-Fitr, also known as Eid-ul-Fitr or Eid, was a celebration that marked the end of the fasting month of Ramadan. It was celebrated on the first day of Syawal, the 10th month of the Islamic lunar calendar. The observance began when this new moon was sighted.

*quoted by L.M.Montgomery