North Wales

Herring gull, Llandudno

A long-intended trip out to North Wales almost fell at the first hurdle: my train into Oxford Road arrived late enough for me to wave goodbye to the Holyhead train. As it happened, the next train to Manchester Airport was to become the next train to Holyhead so I got that, got to the end and came back on the strength of my monthly travel card and stayed on courtesy of a return ticket heavily subsidised by rail vouchers. Which was a much better way of passing the fifty-nine minutes than sitting at Oxford Road stewing about late trains.

I'd been debating whether to go to Anglesey or Llandudno, the lost hour decided it for me so I'd got a return to Colwyn Bay and would bus it from there — the buses from Llandudno Junction to Llandudno are scheduled to leave a few minutes before the train arrives there. It was a lovely ride, I'd been careful to sit on the right-hand side of the train so I'd be facing North most of the way and have a view of the North Wales coast. The tide was out so most of the birds were fairly distant and none of them waders. The only little egret was a flyover near Talacre. The lesser black-backs of inland England gave way to the herring gulls of the Welsh coast, a couple of dozen lesser black-backs loafing on the roof of an industrial unit in Saltney being a last hurrah.

Arriving at Colwyn Bay I decided I'd go straight to Llandudno and have a nosy round here on the way back, the trains back are once an hour. Five minutes walk and I found a gap in the traffic on the main road so I could run across and catch the number 12 bus that had just arrived at the stop. (There was no need to panic, mind, they're every twelve minutes or so.) This route goes through Rhos-on-Sea then along Llandudno Road through Penrhyn Bay and passes the Little Orme before going into Llandudno. The Little Orme has a substantial seabird colony, I haven't visited it, I thought I should. So I got off the bus just after Craigside and walked back along the promenade.

Little Orme and Craigside
That's gravel beach, not sea, in front of us.

Rook, Craigside

The promenade soon gave way to a grassed bank liberally supplied with park benches. There was a large flock of rooks in one of the fields across the road, a few of them flew over to feed on the grass here, entirely unconcerned about people though they got fidgety whenever a dog walked past. There were a few herring gulls about, a glance over with my binoculars confirmed the crowds were with the crowds at Llandudno.

Herring gull, Craigside

It was a mild, cloudy day with a strong wind pushing behind me as I walked. I stopped to scan the sea every so often. More herring gulls passed close by, as did a lesser black-back, a greater black-back and a few cormorants. Further out were more large gulls, probably herring gulls, and a handful of gannets. As I approached the houses of Craigside the first shag of the day was loafing on the choppy sea a few hundred yards out.

Little Orme

I looked at the state of the tide and decided that the pile of limestone boulders marking the end of the seaside houses would be a prudent stopping point if I was going to be spending any amount of time watching the seabird colony. I'd been seeing guillemots flitting to and fro between the cliffs and the open sea as I walked up. I found a boulder with a good view, sat down and had a look round.

Little Orme
The black shapes on the grass are mostly cormorants (there are a couple of great black-backs in there, too), the ones on the sheer cliffs ate shags.

I was getting distant views of the birds, which would still have been the case if I'd been able to walk to the bottom of the cliffs, but they were good views. Cormorants littered the grassy slopes, shags were peppered about the sheer cliffs or traced in black lines along ledges. And there were hundreds of them. A few herring gulls and great black-backs hovered around. It took me a while to find any kittiwakes and fulmars, and there weren't many of them on this side of the cliffs. It took me even longer to find any nesting auks, the first were a pair of razorbills on a ledge near some shags. There was a constant, heavy traffic of hundreds of guillemots commuting between the sea and a big cleft in the cliffs closest to me.

Little Orme

I kept an eye out for black guillemots, they're resident round here unlike the other auks that disappear after the breeding season. Every so often I'd get my hopes up with a black shape on the sea then the wave would swell and show me a razorbill. Some of the guillemots were surprisingly dark underneath and made me look twice as they landed on the water. Luckily auks are easy to identify (least ways, the ones that breed in Britain are): guillemots taper at both ends and the upperparts look brown; razorbills have blunt ends and are black and white; puffins, which I haven't seen on the Welsh mainland, are black and white stocky torpedoes. Black guillemots are the easiest of the lot: in Winter they're mostly white, in Summer they're jet black except for a big white patch which covers most of the base of the wing. It was that big white patch I was looking out for. And, in the end, wasn't seeing. But there was plenty enough else to keep me interested.

Shags, Little Orme

The tide engulfed the stone I'd selected as a warning sign and I made tracks back. Stopping every few yards for another quick scan of the sea just in case, as you do.

Little Orme

I walked back along the gravel beach, house sparrows fossicking about the garden walls of Craigside and a dunnock singing from one of the gardens. It seemed strange to only see the one linnet and no pipits, I suspect it would be a different story if I'd been walking through the fields across the way. Sea beets were doing their best to make sure there'd be something for the beachcombing flocks of Winter.

Sea beet

Sea holly

I got the 12 into Llandudno and had a walk along the promenade which was, predictably, very busy despite the strong wind. Herring gulls and jackdaws lurked about waiting for easy pickings. The herring gull pictured at the top was minding its own business as it stood on a railing. A bloke, keen to show off to his missus and toddler, approached it and jabbed a finger at it. "Come on and bite me then," he said, repeatedly. The fourth time the gull flew off. It should have gone for his throat.

Little Orme and Craigside from Llandudno

Out at sea there were more herring gulls, a few cormorants and shags and a couple of very distant gannets.

Llandudno Pier

I had a bit of a wander, decided I didn't have the time or energy to do the Great Orme any justice so got the 12 back to Colwyn Bay.

Colwyn Bay 

There was the best part of an hour for a walk along the promenade before getting my train home. It was one of those languid Summer teatimes where herring gulls and black-headed gulls pass by with an utter lack of urgency, an occasional cormorant can be seen in the middle distance out to sea and every tide pole has a Sandwich tern sitting on it.

The journey back was pleasantly uneventful. I added rock pipit to the year list as we slowly passed by Old Colwyn.