Where I'm coming from. 
I've largely been faithful to ​8x binoculars for 20+ years for two reasons;  reduced ‘hand shake’ and the wider field of view they offer for example, my old Zeiss 8x42 FLs had a FoV of 135m @ 1000m and several newer alpha 8x instruments have a similar field (compared to c110m in most 10x42s).  However, a combination of a decline in my eyesight (old age!) and spending more time watching distant birds of prey in Spain made me reconsider my options.  Things were brought to a head in spring 2019 when I found I could identify distant raptors more confidently with a friend’s Zeiss Conquest 10x42s than I could with my 8x42s.  With funds for much of that year already earmarked for travel, I left serious consideration of buying new binoculars until 2020.  Having done so, I had more or less decided to buy a good, but ‘second tier’ pair of binoculars for c£800-900 from Zeiss, Leica or Nikon when two things happened; the first, predictably, was the COVID lockdown and the second the appearance of Swarovski NLs.  Like many, the former meant I was spending less money on travel & birding so my bank balance was unexpectedly healthy (helped in no small measure by finding I was well in credit with my electricity supplier) and the specifications of the latter were too good to ignore (despite the high  cost). ​I tend towards the view that once you stump up much above £400 (and perhaps less) for binoculars any improvement you get in optical quality is relatively small decidedly incremental and largely not obvious other than by direct comparison.  Certainly, any improvement in image quality that the NLs may have over top quality sub-alpha glasses is minimal in field use to the average birder.

​Ergonomics
Unlike the established excellent optical quality of Swarovski binoculars and the well-advertised generous field of view, I had no expectation that the NLs would handle much differently from other roof prism binoculars regardless of price. I was wrong. The barrels of the NLs sport an unusual waisted ‘Coca-Cola bottle' shape which somehow encourages your hands to naturally slip firmly into place.  It usually takes me a while to get used to holding new binoculars, but these were ‘right first time’.   This excellent grip makes the NLs easier to hold steady than other binoculars I’ve used and was a surprising plus point. However, one of my concerns with the NLs was their weight.  At 850g they are 60-100g heavier than many rival binoculars (and 95g more than my old Zeiss) and so at the heavier end of 10x42 instruments.  However, in use with the good, wide strap they came supplied with this has proved not to be the problem I feared it might be.  For some a binocular harness may be a sensible option (see below).  On the other hand, those additional grams possibly assist with holding them steady and reflect Swarovski brand’s famously robust construction.  

Protection 
Swarovski's diagnostic green 'armour' is comfortable to grip and, as far as I could judge, offered a good level of protection.  The cover for the eyepieces fits snuggly, but at times too snuggly although with use should loosen up. The objective lenses are well recessed (by c1.5cm) protecting them from accidental damage something which the protective covers help further. I've never previously used binoculars with protective OG covers in situ but am finding them quite useful as an extra layer of protection since I tend not to use a case (except when storing my binoculars at home).  These covers can be removed, and two small bungs are supplied to close the small indentation left behind in the rubber armour.  The case is well made and extremely well padded with a useful internal pocket.  With the brace attached, however, I found it was less easy to loop the strap around the instrument, slip them into the case and zip it closed. In a break from tradition, the binoculars fit into the case sideways, not vertically. I find this a retrograde step as, unlike traditional designs, there’s not plenty of space at the top for the strap to fold into and  you cannot secure the binocular strap around your neck before extracting them from the case or take a firm hold of the strap and binocular’s barrels before you entirely remove them.   Accordingly, I am yet to be convinced that the design is a good idea.  

Similarly, habitat and range can help too. Birds found in agricultural areas with a little scrub, on ploughed fields, fallow, set aside, grassy areas, vineyards or even orchards will, in almost all instances, be a Greater. Lesser is predominantly an habitué of natural vegetation that’s dominated by low salt-resistant scrub with little grass on poor soils and, particularly in the west, has a preference for salt marsh. This is reflected in the Spanish name for Lessers, Terrera Marismeňa (similarly helpful is the name for Greater are Terrera comun which reflects its relatively widespread status). Accordingly, a good rule of thumb in Andalucia is that any small lark found beyond c25 km from the coast or away from estuarine saltmarsh will be a Greater. An exception must be made, however, for the Hoya de Guadix and Hoya de Baza (Granada) which are both shallow basins where saline conditions dominate providing good habitat for Lessers. (The applies to similar habitat in central and eastern Spain, the Ebro valley and across the species’ range in Asia). Just to confuse matters in winter Lesser sometimes appear in the ‘wrong’ habitat such as ploughed fields (fortunately when Greater should be absent). Greater also do their bit to confuse by inhabiting dune systems near salt marshes and along grassy embankments that intrude into “typical” Lesser habitat. For example, the first Lessers I ever saw were in a grassy dune slack on the Ebro delta where there were also Greaters. Conversely, a Greater I saw on the Barbate estuary one recent spring flew from its typical grassy habitat to feed in the sort of saltmarsh habitat that Lessers generally prefer. However, even when all these caveats are considered, habitat preference remains a useful clue. These habitat preferences are clearly evident in the two species distribution in Andalucia.​

The Greater’s head pattern is usually subtly stronger with a bolder, more extensive buff-white supercilium highlighted by a darker eyestripe below plus more striking whitish ‘spectacles’. An exception are the ear-coverts (= cheeks) which are rather plain on Greater but more distinctly streaked on Lesser. Greater also often (but not always!) has a warmer or even distinctly ‘ginger’ crown which Lesser never shows. This is mirrored in the general tone of the two species’ upperparts (in Iberia) as Lesser tends to be a greyer, less warm brown than Greater (but without direct comparison and with varying light conditions this can be very hard to judge). Although wear and bleaching can reduce the distinctions, the general impression is that Greater‘s head appears more lark-like whilst Lesser‘s more resembles a Linnet. Another subtle clue in a bird’s plumage that can be looked for is the pattern of the “median coverts” (roughly the feathers that run across the centre of the closed wing). In both species these show dark centres but in Lesser this is often confined to the shaft streak or rather diffuse whilst in Greater it’s bolder, darker and so more obvious. This may seem to be obscure but in the right conditions on some distant birds it can be the first clue you notice.  ​

My next stop was by the gates of a fish farm (c) where I found that the information on a new notice board, gave cause for optimism.  The company involved seems to be committed to sensitive management of the area as the sign (see photos below) included the following declaration (translations by Google):- 

We are committed to sustainable aquaculture

In the Guadalquivir estuary, we carry out daily cleaning and convergence (?) of our wetlands, as well as environmental improvements, which have been very positive for both our aquaculture activity and the aquatic birds that live here. The main objective of these works is to generate spaces and actions aimed at increasing and conserving the breeding, feeding of vulnerable birds threatened by climate change.
​
Other objectives are:

• Restore ecosystems that provide environmental support against climate change
• Increase the biodiversity of threatened and vulnerable species
• Implement areas for exclusive environmental or reserve use within the Guadalquivir estuary
• Generate tools for awareness and dissemination of measures to combat climate change

and the key on the map told me the function of different areas -  

• A paradise for Sea Bass & Doradas
• Sustainable aquaculture and threatened birds
• Renewable energy
• A natural enclave for Marbled Duck    

​We stayed at Punta Carnero Hotel near Algeçiras (see http://punta-carnero.andalucia-hotels.com/es/) for six days and then at Casa Vista, Alcala de los Gazules (see https://www.booking.com/hotel/es/casa-vista-alcala-de-los-gazules.es.html) for five days. John laughed when he saw the size of our vehicle on the tight little streets in Alcala, but it did come into its own on the tracks of La Janda. Punta Carnero Hotel is quite new and comes highly recommended as a small contemporary hotel by the sea, with fantastic views of Gibraltar round to Tangiers. It offers great potential as a base for the Spring migration in particular. Its terrace and hospitality are a big improvement on the postage stamp-sized layby at the nearby lighthouse, as reported by John in the guide. Yeray Seminario of Birding the Strait (http://birdingthestrait.com/) gave us a very good introduction to the area, with two days guiding round the migration observatories at El Algarrobo and Cazalla, with sorties up to Sierra de la
Plata, Barbate and La Janda.

​Barbate disappointed, perhaps because the water quality at the recommended Point g seemed seriously degraded, possibly by agricultural pollution from large numbers of cattle around the site. Passage migrants, indeed most birdlife was thin on the ground on two visits. The Barbate River was much better. We also called off at various sites at San Fernando, Laguna Medina and Chiclana, much closer to Cadiz. An arrival at Jerez airport made this straightforward and added considerably to our list. Tres Amigos at San Fernando (NW 15.1) and Salinas de Chiclana (NW 16.1) near the rotunda were productive and John’s notes worked a treat. We even had a Lesser Yellowlegs amongst mixed waders in the pools at the rotunda access track (to be checked out and confirmed by one of Yeray's colleagues). The rotunda restaurant is a nice lunchspot as well as coffee stop, by the way.

​John always welcomes new information and updates and I thank him for a great guide. A dual location trip to Cadiz Province opens up lots of habitat and bird sites and is thoroughly recommended. They all said, “you must come back in the Spring”. I think that they are right! A big thanks to John  Cantelo and friends.

I thank Hilary once again for her contribution to my blog, for her flatteringly generous praise and, above all, for her donation to a conservation cause in Andalucia. With regard to Hilary's useful point about identifying points on a navigation system, I'm currently experimenting with adding What3words co-ordinates (see  https://what3words.com/daring.lion.race) to my guide but with 400+ points to cover this will take some time (if I complete the task at all!).  And, yes, we are right - come back in spring!

In a roundabout way the early history of Andalucian ornithology owes much to Sir Francis Drake who, in 1587, famously sacked Cadiz.  Less well known is the theory that the 2,900 barrels of sherry he 'liberated' established the English, and later British, taste for sherry (or 'sack' as it was then known).  As Shakespeare's Sir John Falstaff famously observed "If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack."  The history of birds in this area also owes much to the Treaty of Utrecht (1713).  Why so?    The first encouraged a close British involvement with the sherry trade based around Jerez de la Frontera.  In the 19th and early 20th centuries this drew a number of Victorian 'sporting gentlemen' to the area amongst whom were a number of keen amateur ornithologists.  The ceding of Gibraltar to Britain under the Treaty of Utrecht meant that what had been something of a backwater quickly became an  important British naval and military base. Not surprisingly, off duty ornithologically inclined officers frequently ventured into nearby Spain.  

One of the earliest British observers to comment on the ornithological richness of the area and the extraordinary bird migration was the Rev John White.  His observations in 1776 would have been lost to posterity had not he communicated them to his more famous brother, Gilbert White of Selborne.  His letters had a crucial role in persuading Gilbert White to favour the hypothesis that birds migrated in winter rather than hibernating as many then believed.   Sadly, Rev John White's proposal to publish a book about his sojourn on Gibraltar was never realised. He was unfortunate not  to be given the credit for “discovering” Andalusian Hemipode years before it was officially described. 

The most singular ornithological discovery made by a visiting British officer in the 19th century was made by a naval man, Captain Samuel Edward Cook. In his in his book 'Sketches in Spain During the Years 1829, 30, 31 & 32”  Pub. 1834 (see -  https://archive.org/details/sketchesinspain00widdgoog) he recounts his discovery of Azure-winged Magpie writing that it is “common in new Castile, in the wooded parts, and is in vast numbers in the Sierra Morena ...”   His short description of foraging flocks couldn't be bettered today - 'They live in small flocks, generally into a line, are extremely watchful, and are constantly moving, in short flights, commonly in cover, feeding on roads, or as food may offer'.  Now this race has been widely split from its Chinese cousin  it is sometimes called Cook's Magpie and bears the scientific name  Cyanopica (cyana) cooki. 

The tradition of studying birds started in England by William Turner whose 'Avium praecipuarum' (1544) was the first printed book entirely devoted to birds, continued by Ray & Willoughby's Ornithologia (1676), Gilbert White's 'Natural History of Selborne' (1789), Thomas Berwick's 'British Birds' (1797) and flowering in the 1800s simply didn't exist in Spain. Hence it wasn’t until the visits of Thomas Littleton Powys, fourth Baron Lilford (1833-1896) that observations of Andalucian (and Spanish) birds were put on a firm footing. Previous Spanish lists were dismissed by his contemporaries as being, to use a modern phrase, ‘not fit for purpose’ being riddled with errors.  This was scarcely surprising as the native population was, according to later writers, notoriously slack about bird names using Aguila (Aguilucho) for any raptor  from Lammergeier to Lesser Kestrel (and sometimes even Raven).   The name  Quebrantahuesos (Lammergeier) was often also used for Egyptian Vulture (a confusing habit that persists today).  Unlike their English counterparts, the Spanish landed gentry had little interest in birds (unless they could be hunted) whilst the burgeoning middle classes that did so much for British ornithology scarcely existed in Spain. T

With his wealthy aristocratic background, Lilford had the means to pursue his lifelong interest in birds and wildlife.  From 1856 to 1858, he cruised the Mediterranean in his private yacht stopping off at Gibraltar en route.  On his return to England he became a founder of the BOU (1858)  whose journal, ‘The Ibis’, he generously supported.   Between 1864 and 1882,  Lilford paid frequent visits to Spain, collecting and making careful notes of what he saw.   After his two part paper entitled ‘Notes on the Ornithology of Spain’  (1865/66) was published (in “The Ibis’ naturally) he became regarded as the authority on Iberian birds (aided by his fluency in Castilian).  Lilford’s  influence continued well beyond his death since the illustrations by Archibald Thorburn which he commissioned for his “Coloured Figures of the Birds of the British Islands” were later used in the ‘Observer’s Book of Birds’; a book which probably encouraged more people to take up bird-watching than any other.   (For  detailed biographical information about the earlier  ornithologists  noted here see https://archive.org/stream/ibis29brit#page/n7/mode/2up) 

Another notable ornithologists of this era was Howard Saunders, a wealthy merchant and banker, who visited southern Spain a number of times between 1862 and 1868.  These trips formed the basis of several notes in 'Ibis' including a “List of the birds of Southern Spain” in 1871  (https://archive.org/stream/ibis13brit#page/54/mode/2up).  These notes also formed the basis of a popular article, 'Ornithological Rambles in Southern Spain',  published in 'The Field' in 1874. That such a respected and experienced ornithologist as Saunders claimed that he had found the nest of a Western Rock Nuthatch near Archena (Murcia) only serves to remind us how difficult things were for early ornithologists who lacked the background information and resources we take for granted.  (The bird was doubtless a European Nuthatch which rarely nest in rocky crevices).      

When in Dublin in the 1850s, Lord Lilford made a friendship that was to have a profound influence on Spanish ornithology.  Lt-Colonel Howard Irby (1836 -1905) was his junior by three years and came from similarly aristocratic stock being the grandson of Lord Boston, but unlike Lilford he was a career soldier. Educated at Rugby, Irby served in the Crimean War, fought in the Indian Mutiny and survived a shipwreck, but his chance to make his ornithological mark came when he was posted to Gibraltar in 1868.  Here, encouraged by his old friend Lord Lilford, he began his study of the birds of nearby Andalucia.  Often staying in Casa Viejas (Benalup), Espartina (near Vejer) or Tahivilla he explored the great laguna that was La Janda and the rugged hills of the Alcornocales.    

A typical Victorian sportsman-birdwatcher of the 'what's hit's history' school of birding, he was dubious about the value of sight records. This, though, was understandable in a time when observers had neither field guides nor decent optics and when extraordinary claims were sometimes made.   His scathing comment regarding observers who identify “all and every species within range of their vision” has some resonance today, even if his scepticism that one could “distinguish a Common from a Lesser Kestrel” from a passing train doesn't sound so difficult to modern observers (as long as it's a male!). Yet he also had very progressive ideas, condemning “the slaughter of birds whose skins, when compared and examined by table naturalists …. made into new species without any knowledge of their habits, notes, etc” and suggesting that “Much more can be done by observation than by the gun, and when a bird is destroyed all chance of noticing its habits is destroyed likewise”.  Accordingly, much of his seminal ‘Birds of the Strait of Gibraltar’ (1875), which contained a huge amount of new information, was based on personal observation. It’s doubtful, though, that any modern bird book would have a chapter on rough shooting, including that of Spanish Ibex!  Irby’s work covers most of the regular species found in the area although he dismissed Thekla Lark as a race of Crested (probably due to his distrust of 'table naturalists') and makes no mention of the distinctive voice of local Chiffchaffs (now recognised as a separate species).  Neither did it mention Red-rumped Swallow, but then at the time the species, now widespread, didn't occur in the area!  His role in Iberian ornithology is commemorated in the scientific name for the local race of Long-tailed Tit – A. C. irbii.  As late as the mid-1960s his work was still  considered an useful authority on the birds of the area and was only replaced when Clive Finlayson's magisterial  "Birds of the Strait of Gibraltar' appeared in 1992. 

When Irby's classic work was revised and enlarged in 1895 (see - https://archive.org/stream/ornithologyofstr00irbyrich#page/n0/mode/2up) it was at the urging of Lilford and another British soldier-ornithologist, Colonel Willoughby Verner (1852 - 1922).   Verner supplied many additional notes, photographs and sketches.  This later edition had brief thumbnail descriptions of all the species covered and a few were handsomely illustrated with eight colour  plates by Archibald Thorburn, courtesy of Lord Lilford. It's interesting to reflect that six of the eight of plates show birds of prey(the other two showing the endemic Azure-winged Magpie and a gamebird (Andalucian Hemipode), that most of the Verner's photos show the perilous location of raptor nests and of six monochrome sketches (half show hunting scenes).  This may well give both the flavour of the time and the primary interest of the writers! 

Although Verner was posted to Gibraltar in 1874, he and Irby first met on Tiree, in 1877; it was the start of a long friendship and fruitful collaboration. Although a man of many talents, being a soldier, military historian, artist, inventor, climber, speleologist and antiquarian, Verner’s overriding passion was natural history.  As noted above he contributed many notes to the second edition of Irby’s work having retired to Algeciras at the end of his military career. Today his “My Life among the Wild Birds in Spain” (Pub. 1909  - see https://archive.org/details/mylifeamongwildb00vern) makes somewhat uncomfortable reading given his evident glee in birds nesting (as he euphemistically called it).  Yet there’s no disguising that he was a superlative observer with a deep knowledge of the area and its birdlife.  His book contains chapters on the larger and most charismatic birds of the area (particularly raptors and how to reach their nests). There's relatively little on what he somewhat disparagingly refers to as 'lesser birds'.  He also pioneered the use of small hand held cameras at a time when their use was disparaged.  As a keen antiquarian and expert climber, Verner was also one of the first people to explore Cueva de la Pileta in Benaoján which he helped bring to public notice.  

Before Verner set pen to paper the study of Spain's wildlife by English visitors was stimulated by two books that found a wide audience (indeed they probably galvanised the old soldier to write his memoirs).  These were the work of two well connected sportsmen Abel Chapman and Walter Buck.   Like Irby, Abel Chapman (1851-1929) was an old Rugbeian, but, unlike Irby (and Lilford) he was not from aristocratic stock and nor was he a military man.  He was, as Victorians disparagingly called it, ‘in trade’, but fortunately for ornithology, the family business of T. E. Chapman, were brewers and wine-merchants.  Accordingly, after leaving school he visited Spain (sherry) and Portugal (port)  mixing business with pleasure – principally wildfowling.     Although first and foremost a sportsman (in the traditional sense of the word), Chapman was an observant naturalist whose first book was “Bird-Life of the Borders” (1889).  In Jerez he made friends with Walter J Buck (1843-1917) who was the British vice-consul there.  Buck was extremely well connected having taken over the firm Sandeman in 1879 and was instrumental in that firm producing its own sherry.  More importantly, Buck and Chapman formed a small shooting syndicate that rented the Coto Doňana for several years.  Together Buck and Chapman produced two highly influential books on Spain and its wildlife – “Wild Spain” (1893 – see - https://archive.org/details/wildspainrecords00chaprich) and “Unexplored Spain” (1910   - see - https://archive.org/details/unexploredspain00chaprich). Despite the wider canvas - geographical and otherwise - there's much in the books about Andalucia in general and the  Coto Doňana in particular as Jerez de la Frontera was their base  The subtitle of the first book - Records of Sport with Rifle, Rod and Gun, Natural History and Exploration - gives a good idea the book's main themes and the majority of birds discussed are the larger species either raptors or sporting quarry. The second book has less about birds in general, but the last chapter 'Sketches of Spanish Birdlife' gives a good formal account of various species.   Unlike Irby’s more formal work, their books were wonderfully discursive and anecdotal. The books are also a wealth of information about Spanish society at that time and the desperate poverty of the campesinos which does much to explain the subsequent turmoil in Spaish society. The chapter in Las Hurdes in 'Unexplored Spain' presages Luis Buňel's classic film 'Tierra sin Pan' (Land without Bread) of 1933. It's also worth remembering that although railways in Spain had becomes quite well developed by Buck and Chapman's day (the Algeciras-Ronda line being completed in 1892 for example), journeys into the 'campo' at this time still involved the same long, hot and tiring journeys on foot or horseback that previous generations had endured.  There was no easy motoring along tarmac roads for these adventurers!

Both books contain much information about the Coto Doňana and, although the main focus is on the larger mammals and gamebirds, they also dealt with the smaller birds, reptiles, insects and plants of the area. It was Chapman who first reported that Flamingo bred there and drew attention to the area’s importance as a migratory route.  
Written in a fluent and interesting style, their books inspired generations of British naturalists; it was ”Wild Spain” that fired Guy Mountfort’s interest and was hence indirectly responsible for his equally inspirational book, “Portrait of a Wilderness” (1958). 

Another amateur naval ornithologist John Hutton Stenhouse (later Surgeon Rear-Admiral John Hutton Stenhouse) (1865–1931) continued the two great traditions; ornithologist medical men and service personnel stationed on Gibraltar who explored the hinterland for birds. He was stationed there from December 1918 to July 1920 and in 1921 he reported his findings in 'Ibis' (1921) in a paper entitled 'Bird Notes from Southern Spain' – see https://archive.org/stream/ibis311brit#page/572/mode/2up).  For a modern birdwatcher his note reveals just how difficult, and different,  things were at the early part of the 20th century. First he complained that it was very difficult to get any distance into the country from Gibraltar, presumably due to poor roads and basic modes of transport (cars still being a rarity).  He also complained that his studies were hampered from 1920 by enforcement of a law that forbade the use of a gun in the summer although this didn't stop him from shipping 260 'specimens' back to Scotland!    However he did manage, with Willoughby Verner's help, to make three visits to La Janda and Sierra Retin.  He obviously made good use of his time finding, near Laguna de La Janda in April 1919, one of the first Spanish records of Red-rumped Swallow (preceded only by one claimed by Verner some years earlier and a few others in the 19th century). In 1920 he went one better and discovered the first confirmed record of breeding Red-rumped Swallows for the region; naturally he shot the male!  Stenhouse was also one of the first observers to appreciate that Thekla Larks bred at higher elevations than Crested. Unsuprisingly, he was unaware that Common Chiffchaffs were passage and winter visitors to the area and that the local population, now considered a 'full' species, the Iberian Chiffchaff, was a summer visitor.  However, he was an acute observer and noted that the song of local chiffchaffs seemed to “change as the summer advances” and gives a good description -  'a double note followed by about five descending notes” - of what we now know to be the Iberian Chiffchaff's song.

Often inspired by Chapman and Buck’s work, many more British ornithologists visited Spain in the century that followed.  F C R Jourdain (1865 -1940) went on five expeditions to southern Spain (1905 -1919), but his ‘Birds of Southern Spain’, being unfinished, only covered passerines. William Hutton Riddell  (1880 – 1946) published a few notes on the birds of Andalucia, but is better remembered as a fine wildlife artist.  Riddell, who rather enviably lived in Arcos de la Frontera’s castle, illustrated several of Chapman’s books  (see ‘WH Riddell: Pinto y Naturalista 1880-1946’ Pub 2002). H F Witherby (1873 – 1943), famous as the founder of the journal 'British Birds' and co-author of 'The Handbook of British Birds', also visited Spain.  His 'Two Months on the Guadalquivir' (published in five parts in 'Knowledge' magazine 1899) makes interesting reading, not just for the wildlife, but also for the vanished world it describes (see  http://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/item/47635#page/26/mode/1up).

Other ornithological notables such as W M Congreve (1883 - 1967), Collingwood Ingram (1810-1981) and G K Yeates (1910-1995)  followed.  The latter’s “Bird Life in Two Deltas” (1946) was largely based on visits to the Camargue and Coto Doňana in the 1930s; a copy found neglected in a school library, along with Mountfort’s book (see below), inspired the writer of this note to visit both in the early 1970s.  Published in 1938, Robert Atkinson’s ‘Quest for the Griffon’ is the entertaining tale of three, rather naive, undergraduates who drove down to Tarifa just before the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. They succeeded in their objective to get close-up photographs of nesting Griffon Vultures, but what would today’s digi-photographers make of the French customs, through which they passed, whose regulations stated that only “two photographic machines and twelve plates” could be imported?  Happily the rules were sagely ignored by Atkinson and his friends!  Collingwood Ingram, the last of the great “shooting birdwatchers”, visited the area in the 1920s mainly to hunt, but regularly returned in the 1950s and 1960s to watch birds. Wisely, in his later works he omitted his tales of shooting Great Bustards and thrushes!  By the early 1950s he was regarded as the British authority on Iberian birds.  He too had an interest in the sherry trade.