Kazakhstan Birdtours

Gourmet Birds and Kazakhstan Birdtours 22 May–7 June 2004

David's Kazakhstan Diary June 2005

Participants: Rex Edwards, Stella Gamble, Angela and Gabriel Noonan, Julia and Richard Porter, Eve Wee, Barbara and Martin Woodcock.

Leaders: David Tomlinson and Svetlana Annenkova.

Our flight arrived in the early hours of the morning, so after meeting Svetlana we were whisked off to our hotel, the Mitsubishi Delica 4WD minibuses negotiating some amazing rough ground before we found our log cabins. We then crashed out for a few hours sleep: I was woken by a cuckoo calling outside the room, and the first bird I saw was a golden oriole. A pre-breakfast walk produced a few interesting birds, including little ringed plover, common sandpiper, a purring turtle dove, kingfisher, masked wagtail and tree sparrow. The Tien Shien mountains stood proud and snow-capped behind, looking fantastic in the brilliant early morning sunlight. In daylight we discovered that our hotel still seems to be in the raw stages of construction, with much still to be done in terms of landscaping and even finishing the approach road. Our cabins are sparsely furnished, to say the least: just a bed, one bedside cabinet and some hooks with a couple of hangers for hanging cloths. However, it's all clean and cheerful, and nice and new.

Masked Wagtail

We set off at 8am, heading north towards the desert along the leafy poplar-lined streets that are such a feature of the outskirts of Almaty. We hadn't got far when we were stopped, or, rather, the second vehicle was stopped by the police, and we had a long delay before we were allowed to go. The problem was something to do with the vehicles' conversion from RHD (ex Japan) to LHD. We passed the time looking at lesser grey shrikes, and also seeing golden orioles and rollers. We were eventually allowed to go, though we never discovered whether a bribe was paid to speed our departure. I think not.

Red-headed Bunting

We soon left the arable land behind, with the poplar-lined roads, driving into steppe where our first stop was a large shallow lake. Here we picked up a good variety of waterfowl, including wigeon, garganey, red-crested pochard, ferruginous and white-headed duck, while smart red-headed buntings sang cheerily behind us. Our first raptor was a long-legged buzzard: we were to see several more during the day. Other birds ranged from black-necked grebes to Caspian gulls and Dalmatian pelicans. We continued along the bumpy, sandy track. Our second stop by a small, reed-fringed lake produced good views of great reed warblers, little grebes and a little bittern, while we added a distant pair of steppe eagles as we left. The third lake held lots more birds, including our first ruddy shelducks, collared pratincoles and a single night heron. The light was brilliant, the sun hot but tempered by a breeze, and behind the snow-covered mountains looked magnificent. Here we hunted the low scrub to find Sykes's warblers – small, sandy-coloured and with a reddish base to the tail, they kept low in the scrub. Sykes's is a recent split from booted warbler. It was soon apparent that Svetlana was both very knowledgeable about her birds, but also a good observer, able to find and identify birds with accuracy.

Rose-coloured Starling

We ate our lunch in the shade of the cars (it was very hot outside), before retracing our route back to the road, and then continuing to the shores of the biggest lake which we were surprised to find was a reservoir. Here we saw a colony of perhaps 300 pelicans, with a small number of whites mixed in with the Dalmatians. Continuing along the road, we drove through a wood crowded with black kites. On the far side we stopped for an immature sea eagle, and as we watched it great flocks of rose-coloured starlings swept in front of us. Our next stop was in the rocks at their breeding colony, which was said to hold 10,000 pairs. Here we enjoyed these spectacular birds at close range.

We then drove north towards our camp, seeing numerous red-headed buntings on the roadside wires, as well as crested larks. We stopped at Svetlana's so-called magic tree where we saw our first greenish warbler, five oriental turtle doves, lesser grey shrikes, Spanish sparrow and house sparrow. A long-legged buzzard posed perfectly on the hill. A cowboy cantered over to look at us. At the petrol station a little farther along our best bird was an Isabeline shrike, and we also saw a migrant spotted flycatcher. Isabeline wheatears were numerous.

We carried on to our last stop of the day, at the well near our camp. A hooded crow flew off as we arrived, a rarity here. Black-bellied sandgrouse showed well, we saw our first pintailed sandgrouse and a group of four sandplovers flew in - three juveniles and an adult female. Three demoiselle cranes were spotted in the distance, and there was a surprise grey wagtail by the well; a pallid harrier flew by.

The camp comprised of two main sleeping tents, each with an entrance porch, a hall and a shower. Three separate smaller tents led off from the hall, each with twin beds. There was also the main mess tent where food was prepared and meals served. It was all surprisingly comfortable, and even the shower wasn't bad. We had a good dinner in the mess-tent. There was a problem with not enough single rooms, so I slept under the stars giving Stella and Eve a tent each. It was cool but not cold, and mosquitoes didn't prove to be a problem.

June 5 The first larks started singing at 3.30. I rose at 5, and the sun broke the horizon ten minutes later. For the first hour all I saw were larks and sandgrouse, but at 6, when I joined the rest of the group, Svetlana had spotted a distant cock Macqueen's bustard. We scoped it at great range, then stalked closer until we finally got reasonable views of it displaying, showing lots of white.

After breakfast we walked to the well, stopping en route for a family of Arabian desert warblers – delicate little birds, and very approachable as they ran around on the ground. The well was crowded with black-bellied sandgrouse, but we also saw several pin-tailed. Our first pair of Pallas's sandgrouse appeared early on, but the only view we had of the birds was as they flew away, but eventually a wonderful pair flew over, calling, giving everyone great views. Another pair flew over later. They appeared dainty, almost parrot-like, with faster wingbeats than the other two species of sandgrouse. We also enjoyed seeing our first handsome desert finches. Two pallid harriers fled by, and as we walked back to camp a male Monty flew over. Larks were everywhere: mainly lesser short-toed, but also short-toed and Calandra. Many of the lessers had young out of the nest.

We then climbed into the vehicles for our Caspian plover hunt. We hadn't gone far when we stopped for a raptor sitting on the ground close to the road. It proved to be a crested or oriental buzzard: it was good to have Richard's expertise to talk us through its identification. We scoped it satisfactorily, and were able to see all the salient field marks, including the grey head, dark eye, pale throat and even a hint of a moustachal stripe. When it flew it reminded me of a gymnogene or harrier hawk, being broad-winged and barred on both the tail and the upper wing.

We then drove north through the flat, featureless plains, hunting for waders with limited success. It was hot and dusty, but for most of the morning the sun remained behind high cloud. We struggled for the plovers, though we did find a single greater sand plover with chick. We continued, scanning more areas, and at one stop we had a stunning view of a single Pallas's sandgrouse that flew right over heads, showing spots under its wings. Brilliant. Svetlana eventually found a distant Caspian, recognisable even at long range and through heat haze by its white head. We stalked closer, finding five birds, including at least two good males. There were several more in the far distance, hidden by the heat haze. As we drove back we stopped twice for flying bustards and also saw a Persian antelope galloping away from us, a rare animal here, so we were told.

After an ample lunch in the very hot tent we set off again at 2pm, driving west on our search for eastern rock nuthatch. We travelled through extensive rolling plains, more steppe than desert. Our first good birds were white-winged larks, which we saw very satisfactorily. When they fly they display a wing pattern rather like a redshank. They are a big lark with narrow pointed wings – rather like a paper dart in flight.

We eventually reached our gorge, after bouncing for some way along a dreadful road of cracked-up Tarmac. We walked into the rocky area, pausing to see the 3,000-year-old rock paintings that depicted various animals. We soon found the nuthatch, though it was some time before everyone got a good view. We followed it with a grey-necked bunting bathing (found by Eve and Stella), and a fine pied wheatear. A Blyth's reed warbler sang from thick cover, but refused to be drawn out. Hundreds of black-veined white butterflies fluttered around. As we walked back a red-rumped swallow flew over.

We then retraced our route back along the bumpy road, stopping at the bridge where, on the way out, I had seen a red-rumped swallow. Here we had good views of the swallow, and several lesser kestrels. Far to the south Svetlana and I saw a black vulture soaring, though only a few people managed to see it.

Richard spotted a pair of golden eagles soaring over the ridge to the north, and we watched them for some time. A fine masked wagtail gave good views, while all around us larks sang. A pair of cowboys rode across the great plain. Then a pair of raptors appeared over the closer ridge to the south. They turned out to be a long-legged buzzard mobbing a 2nd year steppe eagle. Just a mile or two along the road, we stopped to admire a juvenile imperial eagle which eventually flew: a massive, powerful looking bird. Back by 7pm for a late and very welcome shower before the 8pm diner. It rained during dinner, so my bed had to be brought inside the tent.

June 6 A short night, as at 4.20am the generator was switched on and the light came on in the tent. I got up and went for a walk, enjoying a wonderful exultation of larks. I didn't see anything unexpected, but black-bellied sandgrouse, desert warbler and desert finch were all worthy of note. The night's rain had been light, and done little more than settle the dust.

Asian Desert Warbler

We left the camp at 7am sharp. It was the camp's end of season, for it was to be packed up as soon as we had left. The season is a short one, as it had only been put up at the start of May. Svetlana told us that the temperature in the desert ranges from a low of minus 30degC in the winter to a maximum of 45degC in the summer. No wonder hardly anyone lives here. We saw few people other than a few horsemen tending their flocks of sheep or, more rarely, cattle. The sheep and goats clearly need more looking after. There were several big herds of horses, some numbering as many as 100 animals, and we saw distantly one herd of Bactrian camels. Svetlana told us that the horses were reared mainly for their meat.

Rufous-tailed Bush-robin

The first leg of the journey was through lark-filled steppe, our bus knocking several young larks down as we sped along. The unacceptable side of eco-tourism? However, the lark population here must be immense and number millions of birds. We made a couple of early stops for steppe grey shrike. The first disappeared, and all we saw was a fine Isabelline shrike, very brown-backed but red-tailed. The next stop produced fine views of our quarry, a very clean-cut and handsome bird, much more like great grey than the southern grey. A further stop was very satisfying, as it gave us great views of a pair of rufous-tailed bush-robins or bush chats, a very handsome species. One perched in the open, and fanned its impressive red tail for us, back-lit by the sun. By now – 8.30 – it was already very hot, with bright sunshine.

Isabelline 'Turkestan' Shrike

Our divers like to stop frequently, as it gives them a chance to have a quick fag, squatting on the haunches close to the vehicles.

We eventually left the lark-filled plains behind, reaching an area with roadside ponds and lakes. Here we had fine views of the Caspian race of reed warbler (looked and sounded just like a reed warbler to me; they are of the race fuscus) but we failed on paddyfield warbler. We also saw the local race of reed bunting which appeared to be somewhat brighter than ours, but we only had flying views. Other birds included black and common terns, lots of red-crested pochard, several cuckoos, carrion crows and black-headed wagtails.

At the last lake complex we stopped at we added Turkestan and azure tits to the tally. I heard a wryneck call, and Svetlana showed us a shikra sitting on its nest. I scoped a kestrel with a freshly killed gerbil in its talons. Water rails squealed and Cetti's warblers sang, and the sun remained scorching. A few black kites soared around. Our drivers didn't waste their time here. Fishing rods appeared quickly, and at least two small fish were caught, and wrapped up to be taken home.

Yellow-eyed Dove

We drove on into the sandy so-called delta country, stopping in a large grove of poplar trees where we had our lunch. White-winged woodpecker was a speedy addition to the list, and we saw it well, feeding in the open low in front of us. Here we also had a good view of an azure tit, feeding in the tree above us. There was a mild feeling of disappointment on this bird, as in the harsh midday light it looked grey on the back rather than blue. After eating our sandwiches we hunted on for a pale scops owl, an outside chance as one had been seen here at the same time of day by the previous group. We failed. Small, non-biting insects buzzed round us, and it was very hot out of the shade. I saw four oriental turtle doves fly up into a tree: they were about the only birds moving in the heat. I thought I heard something vaguely like a stock dove, so I set off in pursuit, joined by Svetlana. We soon found a pair of yellow-eyed stock doves, a lifer for everyone. I was surprised to find that they displayed a distinctive pale rump. We watched them for some time at close range, admiring the wonderful purple sheen on the back of the neck. The eye isn't yellow, but is surrounded by yellow skin. Then it was back into the hot buses, and a long drive with only one stop to the Moslem cemetery. The stop was on the bridge over the river, impressive and large, with nightingales singing unseen below us.

Saxaul Sparrow

We parked on the road and walked through the scrub to the cemetery. I flushed a stone curlew, but no-one else saw it. At the elaborate tombs we soon found our quarry, the very smart saxaul sparrow, nesting in the roof of a tomb. The female looks much like a house sparrow, but the cock has a broad golden stripe above the eye. Delightful birds in a fascinating setting. I was drawn away in pursuit of a nightingale, getting so close I couldn't believe that I was unable to see it. I did have a good view of an olivaceous warbler as compensation. Another stone curlew flushed as we walked back, but unfortunately no-one else saw one (but I did range more widely in the hope of flushing one).

Then it was a long haul back to Almaty, the best part of a three-hour drive through huge dry plains that rivalled Namibia for their uncrowded extensive views. Birds on the wires included roller, hoopoe, bee-eater and once, in a damper area, several turtle doves. The occasional raptor was usually a kestrel or long-legged buzzard, but there was a suspicion that we had seen lesser kestrels, too. We reached our hotel at Almaty at 6.55. The hot shower was delicious.

Dinner was fine. A pretty little girl called Anna introduced herself to us, told us she was our tour manager, and then tried (with some success) to learn our names. The white wine was warm and sweet, the red rather more drinkable.

June 7 Breakfast at 7, and away at 8 for the dry mountains. Almarty was busy with traffic coming into town - they love second-hand Audis and BMWs. We drove east on poplar-fringed roads, and then through flat agricultural country where donkeys and horses were pulling carts. After some time we left the farmland behind, reaching the mountains. We drove off the road, parked, and then walked up under a cliff face where we saw an Egyptian vulture at its nest. Its mate flew in, and the pair then flew off together. Other birds here included lesser kestrel and kestrel and long-legged buzzard. I was convinced that I heard a corncrake, but it was an insect.

We dropped down to the cool, clear stream lined with willow/poplars where we hunted for penduline tits. Before setting of a long-legged buzzard stooped over our heads in spectacular style, catching what was probably a small mammal. The pendulines proved elusive, but Martin found a juvenile preening, which was seen by some of the group. A few crag martins overhead were new for the list, while small flocks of rosy starlings flew overhead.

Rock Bunting

Our next site was a rocky gorge, really not more than deep cleft in the mountains. We ate our lunch here. Butterflies were good, and included gliders and yellow-legged tortoiseshell, plus black-veined whites, fritillaries, blues, browns and skippers. It was hard work struggling up the gorge in the hot sun, as the path was narrow and overgrown, the footing tricky, so spotting birds was difficult. Rock bunting was the first bird seen well, followed by blue rock thrush. At the top of the gorge we watched a red-tailed rock thrush displaying, while we could hear white-capped bunting singing. It wasn't until we got back to the vans that we eventually saw, and scoped, one. Hume's lesser whitethroat was also new. I saw one well, but why was it different from lesser whitethroat? The view I had told me little.

We then drove farther east, crossing a huge featureless plain edged by mountains. It was such a vast area I felt that the whole of Suffolk could have been dropped in it with room to spare. There were no houses or signs of man other than the road and the telegraph wires

Mongolian Finches

We drove through rain, so continued over the top of the pass and down to the Charyn river canyon. Svetlana said that the Chinese border was only 100km or so away from here. Birds were few. Nightingales were singing close to the river, and a pair of falcons dashed past and out of sight.

'Indian' House Sparrow

We climbed back to the top of the pass, and here we saw our first tawny pipits, while grey-necked buntings sang all around. Richard saw a pair of small finches that he was sure were Mongolian. We then returned to the extensive plains, turning off the road and driving to the point where the hills met the plain. We continued to a well, where Svetlana promised lots of good birds. Her promise proved true, as we had a wonderful hour and half here. Mongolian finches and grey-headed buntings were coming in continuously to drink: probably several hundred birds were involved, as it seems doubtful if they return once they have drunk. The Mongolian finches are delightful little birds, the males with a distinctly rosy wash to the underside. A herd of horses came in to the water. The stallion with his long mane was one of the last to drink, allowing his mares in first. All had coats that gleamed as if they had just been groomed. After the horses had gone more birds appeared, including rock sparrow, shore lark, linnet and indicus house sparrow (a bold, good-looking bird with a distinctive black beak. Svetlana says that it is migratory, and as it doesn't hybridise with the local house sparrows it is probably a good species.)

Crimson-winged Finch

The highpoint of the watch came when a single male crimson-winged finch flew in. It drank quickly, and was gone before I could photograph it. We waited perhaps 20 minutes for the next, and this time I managed to get a few shots of it, though it was on the far side of the mud. It's a very handsome species. Delighted with this success, we returned to the buses for our drive to the hotel. En route we came across a large herd of cattle being driven across the road. Our driver clearly has no time for cattle, and hooting vigorously, he drove straight though them. One girl helping with the herd was slow to get out of his way despite the hooting, and he cursed her vigorously. A mile or so farther on I saw a pair of woodpigeons perched in a tree close to the road.

Our hotel was a bit of a shock to the system. Though the simple rooms with bare wood floors were OK and the beds looked clean, Angela was horrified to look out of her window to see the ground strewn with rubbish. It wasn't an encouraging sight. The only compensation was a singing nightingale not far away. No water was running in the system, as according to Svetlana it was the time when everyone is watering their garden. This caused some panic, but I followed Ba's advice and went out to the pump in the garden. A pretty teenage girl came to my assistance and pumped the water so it gushed cold and clear over my head. It was beautifully refreshing. I doubt if more than a few houses in this town have running water.

Supper was good, and the red wine flowed well. At one stage an old girl came in and asked me for money: she was speedily ejected by the management. I had left my list at the Almaty hotel, so Richard deputised for me with great skill. Perhaps a guest list presenter each night would be a good idea. After dinner we stepped outside to watch two large hawkmoths feeding on flowers – convolvulus? They looked the right size.

Lots of lifers for me today: Hume's whitethroat, Mongolian and crimson-winged finches and white-capped bunting.

June 8 A noisy night filled with barking dogs gave way to a noisy morning dominated by cockerels, nightingales, doves (including laughing dove) and cuckoos. Most of the dogs had barked themselves quiet by this time. I got up at 5.30 and went for a walk, getting a great view of a pair of nightingales displaying to each other on a garden fence. They are of the eastern race hafizi and are much greyer than ours, and don't have the rufous tail, while their song, though rich and varied, lacks some of the western bird's quality. At time it sounds simply repetitive, rather like a song thrush. I also saw great tits, goldfinches, masked wagtails and golden orioles.

Hume's Warbler

After our breakfast of pancakes we set off at about 7.40 for the mountains, retracing our route from yesterday, but turning off parallel to the river valley. We had just one stop en route, for a delightful pair of demoiselle cranes with one chick, which walked steadily away from us as we stopped to watch them.

Grey-headed Goldfinch

As we drove closer to the mountains the dry plains gave way to greener land, and there were even some barley fields. At our first stop I had already heard both pine bunting (identical song to yellowhammer) and grasshopper warbler before we got out of the car. Both birds soon gave themselves up, and we also had good views of Siberian stonechat, linnet and grey-headed goldfinches. Quail called unseen from the meadows around us. Common whitethroats of the local race chased and sang. Svetlana was worried that it might start raining higher in the mountains, so we abandoned this beautiful spot and drove up to the forest reserve. Here we soon saw mistle thrushes, a tree pipit and coal tits, while a Hume's (yellow-browed) warbler sang from the top of a spruce. I heard a singing goldcrest. Rex spotted a turtle dove across the valley: it was an oriental.

Blue-capped Redstart

The butterflies were outstanding here, with several apollos seen. Svetlana says that there are nine species of apollo in Kazakhstan. The best bird we saw was an exquisite blue-capped redstart that we found at the forest ranger's house. We had several views of it, and were able to admire the touch of azure blue on its crown. Another new bird here was red-fronted serin while a blackbird sang close by. The forest ranger and his wife, both probably in their late 20s or early 30s, stood and watched us in a friendly way. Svetlana told us that they lived here all the year round, and that their house had no running water. The stream was a long way below, deep in the valley. A nearby roadslip meant that their house was inaccessible to wheeled transport. While we were there an important looking man with a splendid hat rode up on a decent-size horse, which the ranger took and tethered for him. Two more chaps passed by on horseback, but their nags were no more than pony-size, and unimpressive. It's a shame the locals tend to wear tracksuit bottoms, as such clothing lacks local colour.

We had fun with raptors: I mistook a big female sparrowhawk for a goshawk, but was speedily corrected by Martin, and convincing proof that I was wrong came when the male also appeared. The female was displaying, using a slow, flapping flight. Then a far trickier bird of prey appeared: it was uniform dark brownish-grey underneath, and relatively long-winged and tailed. My first impression was of an eagle, but we watched and debated it for some time. Svetlana thought it was a booted eagle, and this was Richard's eventual conclusion. It soared on flatish wings, ruling out any Buteo. It was a challenge to put a name to, but I can't think what else it could have been. We also saw several steppe buzzards, which seemed to be the commonest raptor here. The temperature at this altitude was a very acceptable 20degC or so, a contrast to the high temperatures we have experienced at lower altitudes.

Pine Bunting

We left this lovely area, with its great views of the mountains, reluctantly, dropping back down to our first site where we had lunch. Here the pine bunting showed well for everyone, the drivers cooked up some soup, and I chatted to four teenage Kazak girls who were intrigued by what we were doing. Richard did better on the chatting up, as they understood some of his Turkish.

After lunch we started our drive home, stopping first at the head of the river canyon, with its spectacular scenery. Few birds – grey-necked bunting, pied wheatear and rock sparrow - but a great view.

For our next stop we drove to a top of a ridge in the middle of the huge plain, where Svetlana said that we might see vultures. Sure enough, before very long, Martin spotted a single Himalayan griffon, followed not long afterwards by a lammergeier heading in the same direction, a great distance above our heads. I managed to add black vulture to the day list when I saw two birds soaring up above the distant mountain ridge. Not many other birds here other than a jackdaw calling rather like a chough, a displaying tawny pipit and an isabeline wheatear. Continuing along the road, my bus saw a chukar that ran across the road. We then had a lengthy stop for a long-legged buzzard nest on a cliff above the road, holding two almost fledged chicks, one of which sat up and gloomily surveyed the countryside. Here we also had excellent views of a handsome rock thrush that was feeding young in its cliff-side nest, but was foraging on the facing side of the road. It was a memorable view in good light, but just too far to digiscope satisfactorily. I also saw my first two swifts of the trip here.

Our last stop before home was in search of chukars, and sure enough one posed beautifully for us, giving everyone a great view in an imposing mountain setting. There were distant lesser kestrels to be seen over the top of the mountains. At the petrol station I also saw a pair of swifts, plus a few house martins (seems to be scarce here), tree and house sparrows.

We arrived back at about 6.30. Before dinner I worked on my photographs, before having a wash down at the pump. Barbara kindly worked the pump for me. Eve and Stella went for a walk and met a local English teacher who was delighted to meet two English people, never having visited England herself. They later visited her house.

Dinner was acceptable, with the soup being the best course. After dinner I tried playing the CD for scops owl, but with no success.

June 9 The nearby discothèque played long into the night, and I thought that it would never shut up. The dogs didn't bark quite as much, but perhaps I was too tired to notice. I got up soon after 5.15 and had another walk in the village. Every house had a dog that barked at me - generally short-legged, furry terrier types - and sometimes the whole road was full of barking dogs. Good views of collared and laughing doves, more great tits and nightingales, but nothing very exciting.

We had an early breakfast and left for the desert by 7.20. Despite our early start, there was relatively little action at the waterhole, though it took some time to find it. We did see a fine cock desert wheatear, while a little farther away I saw a family of at least two chicks as well as the female. We also saw two flying Pallas's sandgrouse, but they weren't good views.

Apart from good views of lots of desert finches and a couple of rufous bush robins, the biggest excitement at the waterhole was a short-toed eagle in heavy moult (it was surprising that it was able to fly at all) followed by a male Montagu's harrier that came by so close that you could see his yellow eye. A pair of black-bellied sandgrouse also came right overhead.

Driving back along the road, we stopped for a great white egret feeding in the marshy ground that was presumably an overspill from the irrigation project on the surrounding land. There were also some black-headed gulls following the plough.

Our next quarry was saker falcon and white-capped bunting, but for the first time on this trip we failed. We did get a brief and very distant glimpse of a white-cap, up behind a roadside café with the smelliest loos imaginable. Our lunch site would have been quite delightful if previous visitors hadn't left all their rubbish behind them, as a cool, clear stream trickled under a stand of crying willows. The latter really do cry: tiny spots of water drizzled down from them. Very curious. The butterflies here were excellent, with numerous yellow-legged tortoiseshells, plus a couple of cardinal fritillaries and the usual black-veined whites, plus several other species that went unidentified. As we left a large Mercedes minibus arrived and disgorged a great party of Kazaks of various ages. Stella and Eve had their photograph taken with them, amid scenes of great joviality.

We had one more try for sakers by the side of the road, close to the gorge where we had seen our first whitecap two days before. Birds were slow, but we did get fine views of a pair of golden eagles, an extremely distant steppe eagle and a very distant Himalayan griffon vulture. Flocks of rosy starlings passed overhead, and thunder rolled and crashed not far from us.

Driving down the road, a relatively small dark eagle rose close to the road. It was clearly a spotted-eagle type by the way it flew, with flat wings, but even through the scope its plumage gave few clues as to its identity. It was too small for imperial, the only other possibility. Richard eventually voted for spotted eagle, which seemed the most likely. Continuing down the road, great flocks of rosy starlings wheeled and turned.

Our last birding stop of the day was for a colony of pale (sand) martins, nesting in company with indicus sparrows and starlings of the local, almost unspotted, race. The martins sounded just like sand martins, but their backs were a sandy brown that matched the local soil, their breast bands incomplete, and they seemed to have darker cheeks. The female sparrows had pronounced broad superciliums, so when they stuck their heads out of the holes they looked rather like rock sparrows. A pale-phase booted eagle that soared over us was a bonus, and we enjoyed a roller, tawny pipit and the local donkey carts that passed us down the road. Below us, farm workers were planting tobacco plants.

It took two hours to drive back to Almarty through fast-moving but heavy traffic, at least by Kazak standards. I amused myself by counting the Audis, for this is the favourite imported car, with the old 100 of the 1980s getting the top ranking. Of the cars I counted, Audis made up between 12 and 15%. There wasn't a Ford, Citroen, Skoda, Peugeot or Fiat to be seen, but there were plenty of Mitsubishis, Mazdas, BMWs and Mercedes. We arrived at our base hotel in time to wash the dust out of our clothes, and even have a drink before dinner.

June 10 With both window and door open my room soon cooled off and it was very pleasant by 4am. Great views of the mountains at 6am, with not a cloud to be seen. Cuckoos, golden orioles and frogs calling, and a family of common sandpipers on the edge of the lake.

We left shortly after 7.30, driving through Almaty's rush-hour, and picking up Svetlana. We suddenly left the town, passing several attractive beer gardens, before reaching the entrance to the park. Here we stopped and watched a pair of brown dippers that were feeding young under the bridge. An azure tit was also feeding young close by. The road soon started to climb steeply, with the Tarmac giving way to a rough road only really suitable for 4WD.

Our next stop failed to produce the hoped-for white-bellied dipper, but we did see another pair of azure tits feeding young. The sun was warm, and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. We then saw a fine blue whistling thrush, looking rather like a large, blue blackbird, while at the next Svetlana heard a nutcracker, but we failed to call it up. The flowers were impressive, while the commonest butterfly was the small tortoiseshell. I also saw a peacock.

When we finally reached the Observatory, at about noon, the sun was still shining, but there was a chill in the air, hardly surprising as we were now at close to 9,000ft. The Observatory is really a depressingly run-down and derelict group of buildings, with abandoned machinery and dead trucks. Shame, as the setting is exceptional.

Black Grouse

We soon checked into our simple rooms, and enjoyed an excellent lunch. After eating we climbed back into the buses and descended to the reservoir. By now it was grey and overcast and decidedly cool. We walked across the dam, getting a little short of breath (not surprising in view of the altitude), then climbed a small hill where we had fine views of an adult male white-winged grosbeak, feeding in the junipers. The road dropped a little, and here Svetlana managed to spot a distant blackcock feeding in a spruce tree. We scoped it and watched it for some time: to see a blackcock here is, apparently, extremely unusual, as the population is tiny.

Red-mantled Rosefinch

A little farther down the road we stopped to scope the gravel for the ibisbills. I soon found a common sandpiper, but then the pair of ibisbills suddenly appeared, flying along the river and calling, before landing on the edge of the lake where we were able to watch them for some time. There were also a couple of families of ruddy shelducks with ducklings. Thunder rumbled and crashed around us, and eventually the rain hit us. We abandoned the ibisbills, and retraced our steps, sheltering under a spruce tree listening to a cuckoo. The rain turned to hail, but eased again, and we got back to the buses without getting very wet. The temperature gauge in the bus registered 8degC – at the same time yesterday it had been 34degC.

We drove back to the Observatory, and most of the group went in for tea. Richard, Gabriel and I went looking for birds, seeing little for quite a while other than an oriental turtle dove (richer colour, and two faint wingbars when perched). We climbed higher, and managed to get good views of the dull but noisy Hume's (yellow-browed) warbler and red-fronted serins, followed by young white-winged grosbeaks. Svetlana joined us, and found a pair of red-mantled rosefinches, which I managed to get some great photographs of. The cock red-mantled is a beautiful rosy-pink bird, but his mate is simply streaked and brown. I had seen these rosefinches on my previous visit to Kazakhstan, but I couldn't remember them. The evening's outing finished on a high note with a singing Himalayan rubythroat, looking exquisite in the clear evening light, with a magnificent mountain backdrop. I remember rubythroats being excessively shy from my last visit, but they haven't been this time.

Himalayan Rubythroat

June 11 There must have been rain in the night, as it was decidedly damp at 6am this morning. It was cool, too, and birds took some time to appear. Most conspicuous were the white-winged grosbeaks, tree pipits were singing, and I also saw a rubythroat. I soon saw Hodgson's rosy finch, but the name is much more impressive than the bird, which is very plain. I thought that I heard the high-pitched call of the tit-warbler, which sounds rather like a penduline tit, but the bird failed to appear. Almost back at the Observatory, I met up with the Norfolk party, and Richard pointed out a black-throated accentor singing from the top of a spruce.

We set off at 8am for the High Observatory, which is situated at about 3300m. The buses ground and bounced their way up the rough track, and I tried to avoid looking out of the window to see the great void below. When we finally reached the top the sun was shining, raising the temperature just a little. When it went in it felt really cool. I soon spotted a Güldenstädt's redstart, a large and handsome species, but the bird didn't remain in view for long, soon disappearing as it flew up the mountain. Fortunately we were to find several more, and Richard even got a good picture of one taking food to the nest. While waiting for the redstarts to appear we watched red-billed choughs feeding their well-fledged young (we had stopped for a flock of alpine choughs on the way up).

Red-billed Choughs

The High Observatory is a depressing, gloomy place, with ruined buildings and abandoned and rotting vehicles. Some people still live here, which seemed surprising. What do they do all day? Amid this dereliction we saw plain mountain finches and brown accentors, while the wonderfully evocative calls of the Himalayan snowcock echoed round the mountains. Spotting a snowcock was another matter: I eventually succeeded, but there can be few birds so superbly camouflaged than these. It took a long time to get everyone to see the two birds I found, but everyone got reasonable views in the end, and we did manage to get quite a bit closer

Brown Accentor

We discovered another pair of Güldenstädt's redstarts feeding recently fledged young, and the accentors had fledglings, too. At one stage two male Güldenstädt's chased each other around quite close to us. This is a very impressive redstart, its colour and size making it appear more like a rock thrush or cliffchat. By now the cloud was shrouding most of the high tops, and it was decidedly cool (only 5degC when we got back to the bus). We looked hopefully for flying snowcocks, but though we heard more birds calling we didn't have any success. Svetlana pointed out the highest mountain, still called Soviet Peak, towering over us, at 4,379m. The highest peak here is Talgar at 5,000m (and visible from our hotel in Almaty).

Güldenstädt's Redstart

We drove two thirds of the way down, but then stopped and walked in the hope of finding Himalayan accentor. No luck, but we did see more plain mountain finches and rubythroats. Back for a welcome hot lunch at 1am (the cook here is very good). We were due to go out again at 2pm, but were rained off.

At 4.20 the rain had eased, so we set off in the buses down to the lower ground. We did find a black-throated accentor and have good views of the rabbit-like pikas running around in the scree, but there wasn't a lot else moving. We continued to the dam, but as soon as we set off the rain started again. Apart from a couple of families of ruddy shelducks we didn't see much, apart from the local off-road club heading for the hills in their 4WDs. New birds for me today were Güldenstädt's redstart and brown accentor.

Roast chicken for dinner. Svetlana proved to be very pro hunting, and was mystified why the Government should have banned it. No chance to look at the stars as the sky was overcast and rain still falling.

June 12 Flaming June. It was raining when I got up at 5.40, so I went back to bed again. It continued raining steadily and heavily all morning, so my only notable bird sightings were rubythroat and grosbeak from my balcony.

White-winged Grosbeak

A couple of games of table tennis before lunch warmed me up - I beat Svetlana 2-1 with a tie-break in the third, and Stella 2-0. We kept on expecting the rain to stop, and occasionally it got a tiny bit brighter, but the rain kept falling. We decided to go out after lunch regardless of the weather, and sure enough it was still raining as we drove down the valley. We stopped for a walk, promising ourselves that once we had found 10 species we would pack up. Birds came slowly, much more slowly than the rain. A cuckoo called, a mistle thrush sang, and we watched a distant greenish warbler. A grey wagtail was seen, a pair of ruddy shelducks flew down the valley, and I heard a nutcracker calling. It eventually crossed the valley, flying over us. Then Svetlana spotted a redstart. It proved to be another blue-cap, and we were able to watch it for some time through the scope. The rain fell, and I sheltered under then giant pipeline.

After a while we continued our walk, with Svetlana following the stream, while I stayed on the road. Suddenly I heard drumming, so I called the group over. The drumming stopped, and I started to believe it was a figment of my imagination, but we tried the tape anyway. A nutcracker appeared, sitting on top of a spruce and looking most bedraggled, but it was a good bird to see. Another male blue-cap was scoped. Then the woodpecker started drumming again, a slow but powerful drum, repeated over and over. Try as I did I simply couldn't find the bird, while it wasn't tempted by the tape to come and see us. We were now all so wet and cold (8degC) that we decided to retire, only pausing for an oriental turtledove on the wire on the way home. Still non-stop rain after 28 hours...

According to Svetlana the bird drumming was almost certainly a three-toed, the only woodpecker to be found here. It was also drumming from exactly the spot where the Limosa tour had seen it three weeks before.

It finally stopped raining at 7pm – 30 hours of continuous rain. I went out for a walk, but soon came back as it was so cold and damp.

June 13 A dry but still overcast morning. We met at 6am and went to where Martin and Ba had found an Eversmann's redstart's nest the night before. We watched the nest site for an hour, and enjoyed repeated sightings of the female coming in to feed the young, but the male was never seen (although we saw a male later in the tour). Is this normal for this species, or did he have another female elsewhere? Martin and Ba had seen him briefly the night before. We did, however, see a cock blue-capped redstart

After breakfast we drove two thirds of the way up the mountain, then walked back looking for the mythical Himalayan accentor, which we never as much as glimpsed. Svetlana was surprised, as this is an easy bird to see in May, so we were assured. We did see several water pipits and a couple of tree pipits, and had good views of several ruby-throats and plain mountain finches. A singing cock northern wheatear added variety. The local race of long-tailed and rather large carrion crow provoked debate. I found, at great range, a pair of sulphur-bellied warblers, but no-one else but Martin managed to see them. They were feeding in rocky scree, and a long wait failed to relocate them. Our walk was interrupted by one short shower of rain when we sheltered in the buses, but it passed over. A little while later a lammergeier flew right over us, so close we could see the beard, before soaring off towards the Soviet Peak. It was to be the bird of the day for lots of us.

On our final descent we had great views of white-winged grosbeaks, and I had the briefest of glimpses of a white-browed tit-warbler flying away from me, never to be seen again. We did see several black-throated accentors

After lunch we tried again for the tit-warbler, and though several people glimpsed it, no-one had a satisfactory view. We did enjoy a pair of red-mantled rosefinches, plus goldfinches, red-fronted serins and more black-throated accentors.

Brown Dipper

At our next stop, at the top of the spruce forest, I climbed out of the bus to find a Queen of Spain fritillary. However, much excitement on the other side of the road as a songar tit had been found. We all got good views of it – it was interesting to see the clouds of pollen it disturbed as it fed in the spruce. It is a bird that is closely related to the willow tit. Further stops failed to add anything new, though the three-toed was heard again, as was a nutcracker. We also watched another male blue-capped redstart perched on top of a dead larch. More brown dippers were seen, and I watched a family of azure tits. The butterflies became more interesting and diverse as we descended, and I saw two apollos from the bus. Once we came off the really rough mountain road the park was busy with families picnicking. It's evidently a popular spot to come out to.

By the time we reached the bottom of the mountains the temperature had climbed back into the high 20s, and it was 33degC as we drove through Almaty. This was a hairy experience, with our driver dicing with the traffic, and making more overtaking manoeuvres than Schumacher manages in a whole season of grand prix racing. Dinner was memorable for an abundance of savoury doughnuts.

June 14 I woke at 5.45 and lay in bed listening to golden orioles, cuckoos and common sandpipers. From the other side of the hotel, quail and corn buntings sang. Once again the mountains looked magnificent, snow-covered and completely without cloud. What a shame they weren't like that while we were up there.

Meadow Bunting

We left at 7.35, and the drive through the town wasn't too bad. We picked up Svetlana and then headed west, finally turning south on a road that headed into the foothills of the mountains. The hills were high, rounded and apparently deforested, with the only trees in the river valley. Here a sizeable and impressive mountain stream raced away from the hills. The area we visited was private, and Svetlana had to pay a fee to the border guard for us to get in. We soon stopped and started a walk uphill, instantly finding buntings: first rock, the red-headed then meadow, our quarry. A fine male sang for us on the hillside, and at one stage chased a female. The range was about 60m, but the light was good and behind us. We continued our walk, finding at least two more singing meadow buntings. At one moment there were three buntings sitting on the wires: red-headed, meadow and corn.

The grass was long, and if grown for hay, would have been ready for cutting. We heard several quail calling, sometimes quite close to us, but I failed to call any out. Stonechats and rollers sat on the wires, and we had good views of two or three Himalayan griffons. They are much the same as European in appearance, except old birds are even paler, and they are also bigger. We also scoped three black vultures soaring together over the mountains. The only other raptors we saw were kestrel and a single long-legged buzzard.

The butterflies were both abundant and diverse. Most were familiar, including black- and green-veined whites, clouded and pale clouded yellows, marbled white, gliders, small tortoiseshell, painted lady, wall brown, many blues and skippers, Queen of Spain fritillary and small meadow (?) fritillaries. We also photographed a stunning purple copper. A session with a net would have been productive.

Apart from several of us suffering from a touch of hay fever it was a very pleasant walk. The temperature was close to 30degC, but there was a breeze to moderate the heat of the sun. The constant song of buntings was a delight, while the back-drop of the mountains was impressive. We walked to a small cleared area in front of a farmhouse (probably used in the summer only). Here several rosefinches were feeding in a profuse growth of cannabis plants (I've never knowingly seen one before). There were also a couple of tree sparrows here.

For lunch we dropped down to the river, finding an idyllic picnic site (apart from the inevitable litter). Here we soon saw a striking white-bellied dipper that was building a nest under the nearby bridge, carrying in leaves one at a time. A penduline tit was seen flying, and then Stella found its quite exquisite nest. We watched this for some time: the female flying in at top speed, straight into the nest. About three minutes later she popped out again, with no hanging about. The temperature in the shade by the river was very pleasant, and it was quite a wrench to leave such a lovely spot for the return drive to our hotel. A late afternoon shopping expedition to town was promised.

The drive back through Almaty was as hairy as ever. Part of the problem seems to be that about 30% of drivers are happy to potter along in the ancient and battered Ladas and Moskivitiches, while the other 70% in their quick European and Japanese cars want to go as fast as possible. There is no lane discipline whatsoever, and it's quite normal to start a new fifth lane if there's not too much coming the other way at that moment. Problems arise when the oncoming traffic is trying to do the same thing, so the fifth lane then has to force its way into the fourth lane, amid much hooting. Remarkably, we didn't see any crashes, though quite how we survived not becoming one ourselves is a matter for debate. At one stage we passed a massed rank of at least 20 police cars, all Ladas, and looking rather like taxis. One went charging off in front of us with siren blaring, but we never saw whether he caught his quarry.

After such a horrendous journey, no one could muster the energy to go back into town, despite assurances that it would only take 20 minutes and the traffic wouldn't be bad. Plenty of beer was drunk, instead.

During dinner we were introduced to the bearded boss of the outfit, and were invited fishing. No-one wanted to, but I felt that at least one of us should go, so at 9.40, just as it was getting dark, I went down to the lake bank. The fish weren't biting, as in the next 20 minutes I caught just one tiny carp, and lost another. It was the first fish I've ever caught on a float and line. The bearded boss told me in halting English that fishing was his hobby, hunting his business, and that he speaks German rather than English, as most of his clients are Germans who come to hunt anything from ibex to wolf.

June 15 I was back fishing with my bearded friend at 7am. In the next half hour I caught 10 small fish, all of which were chucked back in. The boss's dog, a hairy terrier type called Nikki, joined us. I can't say that I find anything the least bit appealing about coarse fishing. Birds included red-rumped swallows and a kingfisher, while Richard saw a shikra.

We left for the airport at 10.55, and then had a long wait for our 12.55 flight to Astana in the modern and airy airport. Richard and Julia had fun in the souvenir shop, coming back laden with slippers, children's waistcoats and hats. Our Astana Airways Boeing 757 was full for the 600mile flight. Peter, our driver, soon whisked us off into the steppe in the big Mercedes minibus, skirting the edge of Astana where huge new buildings were springing up like mushrooms.

The steppe is vast and flat, but on the first part of our drive trees lining the road were being used for nesting by red-footed falcons, of which we saw several. Our first black larks also appeared, looking big and starling-like.

We arrived at our camp in the nick of time, as a serious thunderstorm was approaching fast from across the lake. The wind hit us before the rain - a sudden and violent burst which was at least storm force, and probably not far short of hurricane force. The wooden loos were blown over, sheets of roofing were peeled from the roof of Svetlana's hut and the yurt in which we were to eat our dinner was flattened, along with the salads that had been prepared for us. Fortunately the storm soon blew over, and the rain that followed didn't continue for long. We emerged to survey the damage, and watch great forks of lightning across the lake. We even saw a distant lightning strike, with flames licking up into the sky.

Bluethroat

After dinner we walked along the lake shore, adding a number of birds to our list: black-throated diver, Caspian tern, great black-headed and steppe gulls, Sykes's and citrine wagtails, bluethroat and merlin. The great black-headed gulls are really impressive, looking rather like giant Mediterranean gulls.

June 16 Not everyone slept well in their hut, but I did, and was out shortly after 5am. My walk along the lakeshore, accompanied by the resident dog, produced a good view of a singing paddyfield warbler, as well as a variety of ducks (including garganey, goldeneye and ferruginous). There were also bearded tits and thick-billed reed buntings. Most astonishing was the remarkable abundance of dragonflies: the numbers were simply uncountable, and must add up to millions and millions.

Caspian Tern

Because of last night's rain the road was too slippery for our bus, so we did a short drive then walked back along the shore of another reed-fringed lake. Though we were accompanied by the local guide, Alex, it wasn't particularly productive, but we did see two flying bitterns, lots of bearded tits and several thousand cormorants, flying in great black lines. We also saw a black-throated diver with chick, an isabeline shrike, several curlews and marsh harriers.

Back near the hut I photographed a red-spotted bluethroat with some success. We had an early lunch, then went out again at 1pm. Our quarry was sociable lapwing (or plover), one of the world's rarest birds. With the help of Alex, a big chap of about 60 with hefty Russian binoculars, we found a trio: two females and a male. They allowed us to watch them for some time, but were too shy to allow a close approach. Numbers of breeding birds have been decimated by the exploding rook population.

Sociable Lapwing

We continued to a shallow saline lake, where our first walk gave great views of the nesting black-winged pratincoles, many of which had chicks, and some of which performed a distraction display. Their evocative calls added to the pleasure of watching them. Here there were also avocets, stilts, little ringed plovers, little terns and lots of ducks. We drove round the lake, and from the other side we saw many black-tailed godwits, four spotted redshanks, a single Temminck's stint, four little gulls and a single slender-billed gull. There were also several marsh sandpipers, a trio of Kentish plovers and a single drake pintail. It was great birdwatching despite the hot sun and the heat haze, for there was sufficient breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

Black-winged Pratincole

Alas, this wasn't the case at out next site, where we looked for barred warblers along the river. I soon found a lesser whitethroat, a Cetti's warbler was seen, and we got distant views of a barred warbler (Gabriel saw one displaying), but the mosquitoes were a pain.

They were, too, as we hunted along the road for booted warbler. We had good views at two sites, also seeing bluethroats, yellow wagtails, stonechats and scarlet rosefinches. Richard would have liked an hour more to watch the booted, but even he couldn't have put up with the insects.

We got back with sufficient time before dinner for Richard and I to have a refreshing swim in the lake. The surface water was really warm, and it was tepid beneath and very shallow. When I came out a pair of gull-billed terns flew right over my head.

After dinner I went for a long walk along the lakeside, with the white dog joining me, but my only addition to the list was a singing Savi's warbler. The dragonflies (four-spotted chasers) were up to almost plague numbers, and every reed stem was topped by one. I came back to watch the impressive sunset, along with fishing Caspian terns which were diving into the water just like gannets. The splash as they dived was audible at great range, so quiet and still was the evening. As it was getting dark (about 10pm) a black-throated diver started its wonderfully eerie call. Just like being in the Canadian arctic.

Common Rosefinch

June 17 I walked along the lake in the opposite direction this morning, as usual accompanied by the resident dog: she likes walking with me. Five green sandpipers flying by at very close range were an addition to the list, and I also managed to see a Savi's warbler. There wasn't a dragonfly to be seen until 6.10, when suddenly the sky was full of them. The numbers we are seeing is exceptional, or so we are told. Surprisingly, I haven't seen a single pair mating, usually the first concern of recently emerged insects. Are they migrating? I took a photograph of four black-throated divers far out on the lake: my picture is covered in specks, each one a dragonfly.

After breakfast we drove across steppe and flat marismas in search of flamingoes. The track was often muddy, so frequent diversions were essential to avoid getting stuck, but our driver was good and never as much as spun the wheels.

Black larks were abundant throughout the drive -probably the commonest bird, though the great majority we saw were males. The other common bird was skylark, and the air was filled with their song. Black apparently sing from a perch, but they have the most attractive display flight, with tail fanned and wings pointed forward. They also have another display, close to the ground, in which they hold their wings in a deep V, and glide rather like a rock dove. On the ground they appear pot-bellied, and they waddle rather than walk.

Twite

Our first stop not only produced black larks, but also a couple of smart male pallid harriers, our first of the trip. I found a single common crane. Presumably its mate was on eggs somewhere. We then came across flocks of twite, not a bird I expected to see here. One individual was most confiding and let us approach it closely.

On one mirror-smooth lake we saw several families of greylag geese, all with goslings no more than 10-days old. Here there was also a close pair of whooper swans that flew, calling beautifully

At our final destination we saw several slender-billed gulls, though not the hundreds that Svetlana was hoping for. Here we also came across the local race of common gull, bigger, longer winged and darker-backed then ours, but they sounded the same. There were half a dozen close flamingoes, and another 40 or so in the distance. Other birds here included a flock of wigeon and four pintail, as well as a tawny pipit and three gull-billed terns overhead.

We made one stop on the way back for a small, shallow lake that held a pair of Caspian terns, along with several common terns.

The Mercedes bus is far from airtight, and by the time we got back we were coated in fine brown dust, prompting me to have a shower and wash the binoculars and scope.

It was a hot day, so we had a long break after lunch, not going out again until 3pm. Svetlana warned us that there wasn't much more to find in the way of new species, but we drove back to the entrance to the reserve, where we paused for a while watching a distant thunderstorm and a thunbergi wagtail, and making sure that that the storm wasn't heading in our direction. The Mercedes bus would be useless in mud. Alex eventually decided that all was well, so we travelled off the main raised track and south-west, skirting one of the huge lakes. Here there were a pair of demoiselle cranes and thousands of ducks, at least 4,000 to 5,000, possibly more, together with a couple of hundred swans. The majority of the ducks moulting drakes, and there were certainly hundreds of pintail, gadwall and wigeon, with the most numerous species shoveler and possibly pochard. However, we were looking into the light, so when the sun came out the heat haze made identifying anything almost impossible. The ducks were also extremely wary, rising at a range of some hundred yards.

We continued to another smaller lake - tiny by local standards, but quite sizeable, even so. Here we soon saw our first red-necked grebes, and we went on to count as many as 20 birds, almost all in pairs. Why weren't the females on eggs? Svetlana spotted a smaller grebe, and we found a pair of Slavonian grebes, plus a third bird. There were several white-headed ducks tucked round the edge of the lake, tight to the reeds, but they were mainly inactive. Once a drake ferruginous duck flew over.

It was brilliantly sunny, but there was a strong wind keeping the insects away. Surprisingly, this didn't deter the bearded tits from putting on a great display for us, and at times as many as 40 were in view at once in the reeds in front of us. All around marsh harriers were quartering the reed beds, and Richard counted 16 in the air at once.

On the way back we stopped at a salt lake (salt and freshwater lakes seem to occur almost next to each other) but apart from a flock of lapwings and a few white-winged terns there was little to be seen here. Our last stop on the way back was for a short-eared owl which sat in the middle of the track for us.

When we got back we suddenly realised that dragonflies had virtually all disappeared, and just one or two were left to remind us of the plague proportions that had been here only hours before. I had another swim in the lake, this time quite choppy because of the wind.

'Steppe' Merlin

After a jolly dinner (some chilled beer and wine had been found to augment our last remaining bottle) we walked west in search of Savi's warbler, which I failed to find. However, there was compensation in the form of the pair of merlins, both of which are strikingly pale birds, and look quite unlike any merlin any of us had seen before. The male has a pale, slate-blue back and cap, but mainly white face and collar and pale slightly streaked upperparts, plus a dark terminal band to his tail. We also saw several singing bluethroats and a single rosy starling in Alex's garden. His garden, with its furled mist net, wouldn't have looked out of place on Shetland.

June 18 It was a surprisingly cool and much more comfortable night, thanks to the wind. I was woken at 6am by the dog playing with her plastic bottle, and making a lot of noise, but I wrote this log instead of walking out.

When I came out of breakfast four waders were flying over: two bar-tailed and one black-tailed godwit and single ruff. (Richard later saw a flock of eight). I walked back along the lake, accompanied as usual by the dog that chased a hare with great enthusiasm. My one addition to the list was a redhead smew that was flying in company with one drake goldeneye and several tufted. She peeled away from the main flock, and I was able to follow here with the telescope.

We left at 9am on the dot, with no worries about rain as the wind had chased the clouds away. It took 2 hours and 40 minutes to get to Astana with just one stop along the road for a very nice male red-footed falcon. Other birds seen included white-winged black terns in flocks over the grasslands, and once three cuckoos on the wires almost together.

Astana has changed out of all recognition since the days of Tslinograd. It's no longer grey and drab, but a vibrant and modern city, with the most amazing buildings being constructed or just completed. We had a pizza for lunch (Gabriel's first ever), then an ice cream in the park, followed by a walk to the river. It was warm and sunny, but a very pleasant temperature. We followed this with a quick conducted tour of the new city.

The impressive airport was only opened in February. For some reason the girl in the check-in put my tripod bag to one side, and then forgot to put it on the flight, so we wasted time after arriving in Almaty reporting its loss. Very hot and humid in Almaty – over 35degC.

Anna, her hair wet from the shower, came to look after us for our final dinner. We had the usual soup, followed by what we were told was a local speciality, but it didn't seem much different from our usual fare. Anna bade us a touching farewell: the girls at the hotel had certainly tried hard on our behalf.

After dinner I sorted out the wine and beer bill, which came to £236, which didn't seem too bad. Richard lent me $50 so I was able to pay cash. I then managed to sleep for an hour and half before having another shower in preparation for our midnight departure. Yelena joined us at the airport, asked for my passport, disappeared, and then returned with my tripod. I decided to keep it with me as hand luggage for the flight home.

After lots of queuing, we eventually made it through to the departure lounge. The baggage conveyor system had broken down, which slowed down our departure. However, though we took off a little late, we arrived in Amsterdam slightly early on a bright morning, with the temperature already 16degC at 5am. Home for a heatwave?

The final species tally was 241, with Richard winning my butterfly book.

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