“Welcome back to Manchester.” said the pilot’s voice as the 'plane taxied across the airport tarmac. “Please remain in your seats until the aircraft has stopped and the seat belt light is switched off.” the voice intoned. “The temperature outside is seven degrees, and it’s raining.” he advised, with just a hint of mischief and to the collective groans of 340 passengers. Effective come-uppance then for our daring to leave the January cold and spend two weeks in the 22 degrees sunshine of Lanzarote. I dozed in the back of the taxi to the swish of windscreen wipers, the blur of the rain spattered traffic of the M61, M62, M55 and then finally the calmer roads of the Fylde, until we unloaded the suitcases and back to reality.
After breakfast I’d taken a final stroll around the streets of Puerto Calero to the calls of Collared Doves, chattering Spanish Sparrows and the unmusical songs of Southern Grey Shrikes, making full use of the street lamps to proclaim their territories.
So home again, back to blogging and a quick post. I’ll catch up with friends and followers soon with more pictures and words from Lanzarote and try to get back into the real winter birding.