“SHALL we have a day out?” John suggested. An offer not to be refused before the second national lockdown started.
Like the rest of the country I have swatted up on what we are and are not supposed to do when out and about, but there have been few (fingers crossed) cases of Covid in our area, and I go nowhere without a mask and sanitising spray. Life certainly is different this year.
One of our favourite places to go is the coast. And just before the latest lockdown, I really fancied a day at Spurn Point. It is a wonderful place to observe migrating birds, although it is getting late in the year to see really spectacular numbers of birds flying south. On a previous trip some years ago we had visited in the spring and been overawed by the sheer numbers of Brent geese and sightings of sand martins, swallows, whimbrel and wheatear.
Our interest in Spurn Point was heightened some years ago when a Manx Shearwater collided with John’s tractor as he was ploughing. He revived the bird, brought it home and sought advice from a local bird watching group as to what to do next.
In theory the bird should have been well on its way to South America . After being told sardines would be quite acceptable, we managed to feed it a tin of John West’s best brislings, carefully avoiding being nipped by its murderous long beak. A volunteer from the group then turned up and said the bird would be released at Spurn Point so it could resume its journey.
So after paying our dues at the car park and then slogging over the sand dunes, we reached the main track to the lighthouse. This was much easier going and we soon covered a couple of miles and could see our destination, the lighthouse, near the end of the spur of land.
Apart from the raucous cries of geese, the walk had been peaceful as no vehicles are allowed on the track. But then, I heard the chugging of an engine. Turning round I was amazed to see a large army lorry, at least that it was it looked like to me, bearing down on us. As it passed I saw passengers comfortably seated in the back. Here we were doing a six-mile round trip slog and you could get a ride.
At least I could gloat in the self-righteousness of actually walking the walk, but, after researching online, if we go again, I’m going to be sat in that “unimog” vehicle on a Spurn Point Safari.
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