28 July
We had the longest drive of the trip ahead of us today: 7 hours not counting any stops. Our birding would be restricted largely to the roadside and small detours. As we wound our way along the unsealed roads south and east of Bwindi Impenetrable Forest it was frustrating to see roads signs to Ruhija, barely 20km away. This was the first of several regrets I’d have during the day – I had to reconcile that in any long transit day you are forced to bypass places you’d otherwise be keen to spend time in, but today I experienced that more than on any other trip, ever. Not only would we go past the turnoff to Ruhija, but we would not be able to go into the famous, iconic Queen Elizabeth National Park, bird in or near – much less cruise – the Kazinga Channel, Kalinzu Central Forest, the Kyambra Game Reserve that borders Kazinga Channel and Lake George. We would even arrive too late to have a first look at Kibale Forest. At least we knew we would have full day there tomorrow.
A few stops got our eyes in but did not yield anything new or especially interesting, and we missed some potential targets such as Ruaha Chat. Finally at our 4th or 5th brief stop of the morning some roadside papyrus paid dividends when Herman heard a White-winged Swamp-warbler call. A pair of these reed and papyrus skulkers showed nicely, though not well enough for photos, low down on the stems.
The scenery remained interesting as we cruised past roadside raptors and cranes, tea-covered hills, papyrus swamps and sweet villages. As we passed though one town a red-and-white striped football scarf gave fleeting views, not enough to pin down an ID. “Stoke City” queried Jon. “That’s a big call” replied Dave instantly. “You’ve gone straight to the Championship. Why not Southampton? Or Sunderland?”. We were unable to pin down the ID and so this one slipped through the net. We kept ourselves amused with various other inane chatter. Dave made sure to circulate the important health advice that adorned many service station urinals: the number one cause of prostate cancer is, according to this advice, masturbation: “Stop it, or you’ll go blind” has been replaced with “Stop it or or you’ll get cancer” (in direct contradiction to recent science). Meanwhile, Tom had been in touch overnight asking about the Kolibri merch that Gunnar had supplied. Why would the cap be adorned with the motto “MORE BIROS”, surely more appropriate for OfficeWorks?
Our lunch stop was supposedly a possibility for Black Bee-eater, one of the 3-star supporting cast. Herman found a Yellow-spotted Barbet, and briefly we thought we’d got lucky with a silhouetted bee-eater high up on distant forest edge. But closer scrutiny through the scopes revealed it to be a Cinnamon-breasted Bee-eater, and we did not have time to go further into the forest. After another hour of driving at another brief stop, we looked back over some decent secondary forest and picked up a distant pair of impressive Crowned Eagles. But you get the idea of the day: lots of driving with not a lot of birding in between.
[Ebird List 1; List 2; List 3; List 4; List 5; List 6; List 7; List 8]
Early afternoon we came to a high lookout over seemingly endless savannah: Queen Elizabeth National Park, famous for its megafauna and tree-climbing lions, stretched out below us, so near, and yet so far. Our compressed (and cheaper) itinerary had de-prioritised the park and we would not have any time to explore it. It had been a conscious decision but I still felt the pangs of regret to have come this close but not be able to experience one of the iconic wildlife areas of Uganda. I consoled myself with thoughts of an unlikely future trip with the family on a more generic, less bird-focused trip. Maybe one day I’d be able to convince them and be able to afford it!
Nevertheless, Dave had the excellent idea of a very short diversion just to get a taste of a different habitat and pick up some different birds. Herman agreed, and we enjoyed a 30-40 minute excursion along the entrance track, once again with the top of the van popped up so the three of us could bird 360 as we drove slowly along. We picked up a few species here that were new for the trip, including Striped Kingfisher, Cardinal Woodpecker, Fan-tailed Widowbird and Yellow-throated Longclaw (doing a passable impression of an Eastern Meadowlark). A Tawny Eagle perched in the same Acacia as a Palm-nut Vulture was a particular highlight. We were tossing up between Steppe and Tawny – either would be a lifer addition to add to my aquila “collection” – and came down in our post-hoc discussions on the side of Tawny as being a better fit for our observation, and also higher probability based on range and ebird frequency. Back on the main road a large family of Baboons sauntered along the road, unconcerned by the passing traffic.
Pied Kingfishers lined wires across the Kazinga Channel and, as with QENP, it was tantalising to think what we were driving straight past, and what a short cruise along the Channel might have yielded. Perhaps only a few lifers but surely some amazing wildlife experiences with Hippos and African Skimmers. We didn’t even turn back for a better look when what we thought was a cow turned out to be a Buffalo. Although I’d seen Buffalo well Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe more than 30 years ago, it was a mammal lifer for Dave!
We rolled into Fort Portal very late afternoon and wound our way tortuously through minor roads on a seemingly endless trip to our accommodation. For the first time we found ourselves not at a safari lodge or colonial outpost, but a schmick though rather characterless hotel, trying hard to be western up-market and probably mainly catering for local conferences and weddings rather than tourists. It was certainly comfortable, but lacked any view and had no wildlife appeal, being far from decent habitat (though we did see some Alpine Swifts overhead for a trip tick). I wondered if this was another misstep in the organisation, but a quick look on the internet revealed that all of the characterful lodges in/near Kibale were either full or crazy-expensive! This was not the company’s fault, just a consequence of our late booking.
29 July
Shoebill, Gorillas, Chimpanzees. These were the headliners for the trip, but almost on equal footing was Green-breasted Pitta. Until relatively recently GBP had almost mythical status, but the last decade it has become regular – even reliable – in Kibale Forest. Today was our only chance at both chimp and pitta, so with two of the four key trip targets at stake, it was a massive day. Our dip on the Broadbill (and a couple of other targets) in Bwindi had added to the pressure: get the big four and the trip is still a huge success; dip on either and we go home disappointed and other dips and itinerary choices start to rankle even more.
Our hotel was 15 mins the wrong side of Fort Portal and still another half-hour to Kibale, so we needed a very early start the next morning, because our rendezvous for pittas was 6am, before sunrise. The pittas are known to call and display in the dim pre-dawn light; we needed to be in position before this.
As we milled around waiting for park staff to arrive, my heart sank as more vehicles with birders pulled up. It then became clear as we did the usual pre-excursion official registration, that not only were we not the only people going for pittas, we would be in one big group: 11 punters, including two children and two large, older, unfit looking people, plus 4 guides and 2 armed guards (for elephants, as elsewhere). Never have I tried to do forest birding in a group this size, let alone look for a notorious skulker. Herman still seemed relaxed and confident, but Dave and I exchanged glances; he was sharing my jitters about how badly our chances might be damaged by the size of the group.
We set out in single file, head torches on, following the lead local guide who had already prepped us with worrying words: “we will try hard but we don’t always see the pitta”. Oh shit. My heart had sunk further with these words, but like the others in my group, I tried to stick close behind him rather than get stuck at the back of the trail.
He was understandably keen to look and listen for elephants – we would not want to come across one in the dark — so we proceeded with haste moderated by a good degree of caution. After about 20 minutes of thankfully elephant-less walking I heard a tell-tale very brief drumming – unmistakably this was the weird un-pitta-like call (or is it a wing-clap?) of a displaying Green-breasted Pitta. The guide confirmed and the excitement levels grew. I followed even closer for another 5 minutes as he seemed to be trying to get us into a reasonable position. The bird – and another – continued to call sporadically. We tightened into a compact group and then a particularly close call told us it was somewhere above our eyelines in the mid-storey. We scanned frantically then the Spanish guy behind me announced “I have it”. I scanned with even more haste, turning into panic. Unsurprisingly the directions were garbled and ambiguous as they usually are in dense jungle, let alone when coming in Spanish and broken English – and I simply couldn’t find it until the fateful words came: “it’s gone”. “Yep, you knew that much English, didn’t you!”, I ungraciously thought. A single call came from further off to our right confirming it had moved, but then it went silent. The Spanish guy seemed to be the only one who’d got enough on the bird. I dreaded that we had now missed our chance. Fuck!!!
Time passed and it was clear the bird had stopped displaying, so we began filing towards the last place we’d heard it. But I was now at the back of the group. All of a sudden a message filtered back through the “queue”: the guides are on it, on the deck. We upped our pace but now the big German woman got herself caught trying to squeeze her oversized frame though a narrow part of the trail and completely blocked our progress. “FFS!, Come on, come on!”, I muttered to myself, even as we could hear excited whispers that it was showing.
“How long does getting thin take”, asked Pooh anxiously?
“About a week, I should think”, said Christopher Robin
We don’t have a fucking week, I thought. The guides managed to help the old dear prize herself away, and we bombed through the forest to arrive a few seconds too late. It had gone. I stared despondently at the spot it had been.
Everyone else still seemed inordinately relaxed and one of the guides went into the forest, aiming to push it back towards the track. Then that moment I was anticipating, needing but also dreading: “It’s back”. What if I failed to get on it again? I followed Dave’s directions to look along the track, barely a few metres, and there it was in the gloom, Green-breasted Pitta! I viewed with bins, and with its back turned to me I could see the stocky body, strong super’ and eye-stripe and some faint dots on the wings. I decided to switch to camera and hope it would turn to face me. But what the fuck was wrong? My gear simply wouldn’t focus. And then the bird hopped away off the trail into denser jungle before I could get any kind of image. Had I accidentally changed the setting or damaged the lens somehow last night? Pressing the back-button-focus had no effect whatsoever.
Fortunately the pitta reappeared, slightly further away – about 10m now — but arguably better for viewing. It seemed to be aware of our presence – how could it not be when there were flipping 14 of us huddled in a swaying, fidgeting, whispering group as stragglers still tried to get on it – but it proceeded to hop around on the open trail in front of us, seemingly unconcerned. I wish I was better at describing the appearance of bird itself, but TBH although it’s a great looking bird, I would just be rehashing the field guide and making it up from my photos. This was about the whole experience.
As the “official” photographer of the group – neither Dave nor Jon carries a camera – the guys were urging me to get to the front to bag at least some record shots. I crouched down at the front, breathing heavily, and tried but still couldn’t get it focused. Maybe there was something seriously wrong, maybe I was panicking, or maybe it was just too bloody dark on the forest floor. I was on the verge of giving up when further words of encouragement form Dave, crouched to my right helped me regain my calm. As the bird seemed to stay put, I switched to fully manual focus, zooming the viewfinder (as you can do on an EVF) to ensure I had focus and fired away dozens of shots at crazy-high ISO. Still shaking, but now at least with one or two banker record shots I carried on shooting stills and even had the presence of mind to grab a short, wobbly video. As well as the zoom on the EVF, I was grateful for the high-ISO performance of the R6. I knew the images would be noisy, but they would be a damn-site better than anything I would have managed with the 7D2.
We viewed for a few minutes, and amazingly everyone got great views — even the kids and the fat, old German – before it hopped off the track and we turned for grins and high-fives with our guides. Wow, what a fantastic overall experience. It would be awesome if you could guarantee every star bird behaved like this: rachet up the tension by playing hard to get, before delivering a cathartic, walk-way experience. Of course you can’t, and those highs at the end are only made so high by the sore memories of times when the tension got ratcheted up but instead ended in deflating, dispiriting disappointment.
We filed off gradually through the forest, only now splitting into smaller groups to look for Chimps. Some Ugandan Magabeys noisily chased each other above our heads through the canopy and we paused to try for reasonable views of these. In fact we would end the day with an amazing 9 species of primate (from an incredible 13 species that live in the forest). Our ebird list for the morning, meanwhile, had only 3 species seen – but who cares when one of them was the Pitta!
Now in a group with just us and the Spanish family we followed along another trail where one of the guides had heard a Chimpanzee. After a surprisingly short walk he pointed out the dark shape high in a fruiting tree. The view was not ideal, but we got improved views (though no pics yet) as it moved around in the canopy, eventually settling in a fruiting tree where we also noted another Chimp. A Red-tailed Monkey ran about above them, apparently unafraid despite the fact that Chimpanzees have been known to hunt and eat Red-tailed Monkeys. On this occasion the pair seemed completely content with fruit. Chimps typically hang out in fairly large family groups, and our guides speculated that these two were somewhat ostracised from their main group, forced to forage here away from the best fruiting trees and make do with young, unripe fruit.
At times it was difficult to find a suitable window through the leaves, but they were fairly settled, and despite the steep viewing angle I was able to get nice views, photos and even a short phone-scoped video through the guide’s scope. After the frantic lows and highs earlier in the morning, our Chimp tracking and viewing was an altogether more relaxed experience. Not to say this was not a highlight – it was also a fabulous experience – but it did somehow feel slightly anti-climactic. Reflecting on this feeling afterwards I realised that at some point on our way to Kibale – not sure when – the pitta had become elevated in my ranking to #3 target, ahead of Chimps.
It was now only 8am and we already had the two main targets of Kibale Forest, #3 and #4 (in whatever order) of the whole trip, under our belts. We drove back to the ranger station then headed off into the forest again to hook up with a larger group of Chimps that most of the non-pitta punters were tracking. We’d travelled barely 200m when suddenly from the head of the group there was a shout from our guide: “Elephant! Run!”. We saw him turn and run towards us. Bear in mind this was the armed guard running – it must be serious – so we all turned and started running back along the decidedly rickey boardwalk. Dave tripped and went sprawling, face down, into the mud by the side of the trail. In those few seconds he was down he must’ve felt like the entire group had carried on running past him, and the elephant bearing down about to trample him. Luckily he was not badly injured and able to pull himself up, and we looked back along the track to the reassuring sight that we were not being stampeded.
At a brisk, but now less break-neck pace, we retreated and then our guide sought an alternative route to where others were viewing chimps. After 20 minutes we found our way to the others, and now enjoyed several more chimpanzees. Like our earlier apes, these were also feeding mid-storey, and I found myself thinking: “Ok, time to move on. What’s next? Let’s not waste these good birding hours on apes we have now already seen”. I grabbed some more photos – none that improved on my earlier efforts – and then started making noises to the others that I was satisfied. The rest of our group agreed and eventually so we filed out.
Back at the ranger station we jumped at the chance to enjoy a beer on the café balcony. Suitably refreshed, Herman took us off to another, quieter part of the forest edge for some more birding. New for the trip were Black-and-white Shrike-flycatcher, Western Nicator and Grey-headed Nigrita. Padders all, but nice to see anyway 😉. We returned to the café for lunch (a welcome change from our packed lunches of the previous 4 days, even if it was only a miscommunication that meant we didn’t have them today also).
[Ebird List 1; List 2; List 3]
With the top-2 targets in the bag, Herman had some new habitat lined up for us in the afternoon and we headed for Bigodi Swamp, just outside Kibale Forest. A Red-chested Cuckoo was an excellent roadside find by Herman en route to the swamp.
Herman hooked us up with another local guide for a guided walk around Bigodi, and we had an excellent couple of hours. The path took us along the edge of the more-or-less protected area, cultivated land to our left, swamp forest to our right. We padded our lists with Green Hylia, Green White-eye and White-chinned Prinia in the bushes and trees that lined the path. We passed various local craft stalls, all keen to sell us carved pittas, shoebills or chimpanzees. Still on a high from our earlier score with GBP, Dave resolved to help the local economy with a carved and painted Green-breasted Pitta, which became a mascot of sorts for out group later in the day.
Part-way around Bigodi, Dave’s keen eye-sight and concentration picked out a bright-red but skulking passerine. Initially unidentifiable, but once another Malimba had been eliminated as a possibility, this was surely something good. With some effort we were able to get excellent views of a pair of stonking Red-headed Bluebills. On the dingy, swampy forest floor we looked hard for White-spotted Flufftail, one of the specialties of Bigodi, and while searching for this added both skulking Grey-winged Robin-chat and Snowy-crowned Robin-chat.
As we progressed into more open country we had our best encounter of the trip so far with Great Blue Turaco, then in more open savannah country we picked up a couple of local specialties, Grosbeak Weaver and Magpie Mannikin. Other birds new for the trip included Black-necked Weaver, Black Bishop, while some of the others noted Violet-back Starling (which I failed to get onto). The wider vistas gave us the chance to pick up raptors as they cruised through, including Banded Snake-eagle, Wahlberg’s Eagle, Gabar Goshawk and European Honey-buzzard. Likewise a couple of African Wolly-necked Stork drifted overhead.
At the end of the boardwalk we finally connected with a White-spotted Flufftail, when one responded to playback: it walked right under Jon’s carefully (or luckily) chosen station on the boardwalk giving him great views directly down to it, dashed across an open area (giving me the tickable views I needed), before disappearing into dense reeds. Like the other flufftail from a few days ago, it was so small and quick it was impossible to get a photo, barely even bins, but it was so close it did not matter. The whole experience was a flashback to my Lewin’s Rail at Swanport Wetlands on the Murray, 9 months earlier (when I managed a photo of its arse as it too ran away after barely 4 seconds in view).
Herman met us after we’d completed about ¾ of a circumnavigation and we cut the walk short in favour a formal “wind-down”: we headed to a spot that seemed appropriately named for a quick celebration of our last major birding of the trip, Da Legend’s Bar. We’d spotted this bar on our way to Bigodi, and although when we arrived at 1730 didn’t look very open, the owner magically appeared from out the back as our group of westerners piled out of the van, and kindly opened up specially for us. She produced superbly cold bottles of Tusker Lager and helped us with souvenir photos, including our new mascot, Dave’s carved pitta. We made our way back to Fort Portale and our very non-birdy accommodation for the official final night of the trip.
30 July
Our timing today, the last official day of the trip, was dictated by evening flights from Entebbe in our various directions home to three different continents. Dave, Jon and I had all booked on Emirates to Dubai, while Gunnar was heading to Amsterdam (and then Lima) using KLM. Kibale is around 6 hours from Entebbe, but with roadworks, traffic and of course some birding stops, Herman reckoned on more like 9 hours. Both flights, KLM and Emirates, were early evening, picked by us deliberately to allow some morning birding around Kibale especially – if necessary – a last-gasp crack at the pitta (which was fortunately not needed, as you know from the tale above). Some time in April, Emirates retimed its flight to make it late afternoon, throwing our carefully calibrated plan into disarray. Rather than jeopardise our last morning, the three of us booked on Emirates requested a change to the following day. Dave, Jon and I would say our farewell to Gunnar in Entebbe today, and have an independent 1-day extension. On our long drives the previous few days we’d tried to think out of the box about how we might use it to maximum effect, but one-by-one we had to rule out our more creative options, leaving us with birding around Entebbe as the only viable use of the extra time Emirates had “gifted” us.
After a fairly leisurely breakfast on our official final morning, we wended our way back to the centre of Fort Portale where Herman suggested we look for the highly localised Northern Masked-weaver. This taxon is very similar to Village Weaver, distinguished primarily by a dark eye, not the red of Village. In unhelpful rainy conditions – our first of the week – we found at least one scraggy and wet looking individual by some allotment gardens. Several Maribou Stork stalked across damp ground by a stream, and numerous more lined the rooftops of nearby factories.
Half an hour later we pulled over at a stream crossing where the main highway cuts through the northern edge of Kibale Forest. In intermittent rain I clawed back Blue-headed Sunbird and Brown-throated Wattle-eye and we eventually pinned down Cassin’s Honeyguide, but could not get views of Jameson’s Wattle-eye which taunted us by calling loudly and for a lengthy period but refused to show itself. Keen to keep the camera dry, I wandered up the road to grab my umbrella from the van. As I was returning, wielding camera, bins and umbrella, I heard Dave ask: “What’s that on the stream? Looks like a Moorhen or something”. As I moved over to look for myself, trying to balance umbrella against my neck and stabilise my bins, suddenly he exclaimed “It’s a fucking Finfoot!”. Now there was a scramble and I managed to get directions just in time for Jon to exclaim: ”Flying”. Now I wondered where on earth I should be looking – in the air or on the water – until I saw a bird, cormorant-like skimming across the water’s surface flapping its wings but failing to launch from the stream surface. Before I could get any plumage detail it disappeared behind dense foliage. In an eery echo of my only previous encounter with a Heliornithidus (Sun-grebe at REGUA in Brazil), a long-necked grebe-like shape drifted briefly behind a fallen log and then once again went out of sight, never to be seen again. Dave and Jon were rightly elated, and Herman very excited at such an out-of-range but unequivocal record. Me, I felt a bit deflated. I could probably tick the bird, but maybe not. It was certainly not the experience I would have chosen for an iconic African species and could have been elevated immeasurably by a mere second’s worth of plumage view, or enough light to illuminate the bright red bill.
Another stop an hour later, in the final piece of forest we would travel through, yielded some more trip padders and pushed our total close to 300: Western Black-headed Oriole, Honeyguide Greenbul, Toro Olive-Greenbul and White-breasted Nigrita were all new for the trip.
The remainder of our trip back to Kampala and Entebbe was largely uneventful. A few more roadside stops gave us nice encounters with Lilac-breasted Roller and African Grey Hornbill, both hawking amongst a swarm of insects above the main road, and many of the usual roadside raptors plus a Black-shouldered Kite, new for the trip but none of our life lists.
Late afternoon we rocked up to Precious Guesthouse and bade farewell to Gunnar who went more-or-less straight to the airport for his multi-leg journey that would end back in Lima. Herbert Byaruhanga, founder and owner of the company that had been our “host” for the week was there to greet us and I took the opportunity to ask him about some prospects for birding on our final morning. Our somewhat unadventurous extension began soon after with a late afternoon stroll around the Botanical Gardens, and down to the shores of Lake Victoria, where our trip had commenced only 8 days earlier. This yielded nothing new, but armed with some new knowledge from Herbert, we hoped for some last-minute quality on our final morning.
31st July
Our day began, as it had 9 days earlier, with a decent breakfast (replete with omnipresent avocado) in the dark in the outdoor, upstairs dining area. But soon enough we were in a pre-arranged taxi to Florence’s Guesthouse where Herbert had told us we would have a chance of roosting Bat Hawk, Dave’s remaining top target. We’d dipped in the Botanical Gardens the night before, and although not a lifer for me (I’d seen one in Borneo a number of years ago) I was still keen to end the trip with a bang by seeing this sinister-looking, special raptor.
Finding the guesthouse, a few km from our accommodation, was not straightforward, and we drove back and forth trying to find the spot until we called Florence herself. Unknowingly we were parked right outside and had the name wrong – Entebbe Crane Guest House. This was not the only thing we had wrong: my preconceptions of a guesthouse owner called Florence being ageing and “traditionally” built were blown away as young, slim, pretty Florence emerged smiling from the small door in the gate. While I arranged with the driver to wait for us and wrestled my scope from the back seat, Florence was already pointing out some roosting owls in a tree in her front yard! The guys beckoned me over and I was able to clock a pair of pretty Southern White-faced Owl. We would return for better looks in a bit, but the Bat Hawk was our priority and Florence led us out onto the road to peer up into some huge trees visible above the walls of her neighbour opposite. Although the first was “empty”, just 20m along the road we stared up into another massive tree where two creepy-looking Bat Hawks were quietly roosting. As the morning wore on they left the roost a few times, returning with what appeared to be nesting material!
Quickly we added a range of other good species, including our best views yet of Ross’ Turaco, Meyer’s Parrot and Black-headed Gonolek. Despite being in “suburbia”, the birding here was excellent, and I’d recommend a stay at Florence’s as an alternative to Precious.
[Ebird]
Our driver had waited for us for a pre-arranged fee and dropped us back at Precious, where we had one final saunter around the Botanical Gardens.
[Ebird]
Some final drama ensued with me needing to get cash from the local mall because it turns out Precious does not take credit cards. Fortunately we had enough time up our sleeves, and while I grabbed cash, Jon bagged some last minute souvenirs for his family. Check-in and security at Entebbe Airport were as bizarrely organised and tortuous as I have come to expect at third world airports (though smoother than Heathrow on 21st!) but once we were near the gate we relaxed with a snack and final beer together. It had been an excellent trip, delivering on the pre-trip promise of a short, sharp, and highlight filled sortie into the “Pearl of Africa”. It was great to end on a high with our extension, and I was sorry to say goodbye to Jon and Dave, who were not only brilliant birders but excellent company. I hope we can bird together again some time – and get Tom into the action next time too! As I write this, Tom has now made more-or-less a full recovery, is back on the bike, and finally after some false starts, perhaps the Birding Gods are finally smiling back on him.
