Desert Wheatear, Salthouse

It was mid-November 1996 and I was still going strong in my big year, well into the 340s, but likely year ticks were starting to run out, so there was no rest for the wicked when a Desert Wheatear was found at Salthouse in Norfolk. Bill Urwin and his son Dave were also going for a big yearlist – as we only live a few miles apart, we travelled together a lot that year, which helped me immensely – so we arranged that they would pick me up in the early hours to be at Salthouse for dawn on the 17th. Then I did something a bit daft – as I knew I wouldn’t be driving, I went to my local pub, which was a bit notorious at the time for lock-ins. And so it came to pass that I just had time to stagger back up the road and change into birding gear before Bill and Dave appeared. I jumped into the back seat, steaming drunk, and promptly fell asleep and snored all the way to Norfolk. Charming, eh?

At dawn I got my comeuppance – it was cold and wet at Salthouse, I was hungry and tired, and a stinking hangover was just about to start kicking in. There were a few other birders there, and people started fanning out to look for the bird. I tried too, but pretty quickly ran out of steam – I felt terrible, it was clear the others weren’t having any joy finding it, and then it started to rain again. I stood, sunk in my (entirely self-inflicted) misery, and looked down at the ground. There, not three feet away from me, trying to take shelter in an open and very inadequate bush, was the Desert Wheatear!

It looked just as miserable as I felt, and plainly didn’t want to move from where it was, so I backed off it and called people over. Everyone present got great views – shame the bird was soaking wet, but so were we. I honestly have little other recollection of that day, and what notes I have don’t help, but the moment when I realised I was standing right next to the bird is etched on my memory.