You don’t have to look for Two-tailed Pashas, they will find you. A friend had described the exact scene of a very close encounter with this sultan of butterflies last year. It was now late August, the heat had abated slightly, so I headed straight there.
A tiny Praying mantis was a distraction on the way, sitting on top of a seeding Matabou umbel.
When I reached the remote, unvisited location, deep within Collserola, nothing stirred except for a boar, who was trundling through the bushes, before emerging to cross the track and disappearing into an overgrown gully. The habitat was perfect: shrubby open woodland on a high ridge, with lots of strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo – the Pasha’s food plant), so I decided to sit down, eat some breakfast and see what turned up.
Within minutes I’d been spotted. The Pasha flew fast around my head, inspected the camera on my lap, and then stuck its proboscis into my sandwich. It was immediately whipped out again, as if in distaste – uggh! So where’s my rum-soaked rotten banana?
The butterfly then flew up to its vantage point high up in a pine tree, where it remained a while, until giving chase to another Pasha. The rival had staked out an adjoining territory, which it surveyed from a small oak tree.
It sallied down to some faeces in a holly oak bush. It ignored me, absorbed in feeding, using a startlingly red proboscis, which I’ve never seen before (aren’t they usually black?). The beautiful tapestry of the underwings countered the pong of the food matter.
Still trespassing, I was subjected to another prolonged attack. Intensely beating butterfly wings can only tickle, but the determination with which the Pasha repeatedly charged towards me made me want to duck. Then it started sucking at the sweat on my arm, and sat on my shoulder for a while. Who cared where it might’ve perched before.
Their fearless nature and love of alcohol can get the Two-tailed Pashas into trouble. A video on Youtube shot by a holidaymaker somewhere on the Med shows one drinking spilt beer on the table, and then falling to the ground when attempting to fly.
butterflies, Collserola | Tags: Attacked by a butterfly, behaviour of Charaxes jasius, butter, iconic Mediterranean butterfly, largest butterfly in Europe, Mediterranean butterflies, most spectacular butterfly in Europe, territorial behaviour of butterflies, two tailed pasha in Spain, where to see the two tailed pasha|
Stepping off the Barcelona train in Sant Marti de Centelles, you can smell grass and hear House martin chatter. If you’ve just escaped the coastal fug, you breathe in the summer morning freshness with relief.
In the woods outside the village the cicadas were still asleep and it felt almost spring-like. Back in May these woods were starred with Junquillo Falso (Aphyllanthes monspeliensis). Now the long grass is full of Scabious and a leggy indigo flower – Cupid’s Dart (Catananche caerulea).
Common centaury and oregano cluster about, and the air ripples with butterflies. All day long, every step would disturb clouds of butterflies. Among the Marbled Whites and Ilex Hairstreaks were Provence Chalk-hill Blues (Polyommatus hispana).
The easiest way to breach the cinglera is by the looping dusty track from Sant Marti. As you climb you hear the ravens in constant communication, a mix of low gravelly calls and high-pitched trumpeting, and best of all, the bill knocking.
Cingle means precipice in Catalan, and the Cingles de Berti are a long rippling cliff along one side of the Congost Valley. The slopes are steep and wooded, with layers of bare rock, where a large raven colony is currently roosting.
The slopes come to an abrupt halt on table-top flatlands, where swallows were skimming over stubbly fields. The rocky edge, gilded with stone crop, is partially hidden by a strip of woodland scrub. Paths bring you out onto unexpected balconies, where the land falls away to unfettered views of Montseny on the other side of the valley, and the Pyrenees if the day’s clear.
Large dark brown butterflies were patrolling the path: Great Banded Graylings (Brintesia circe). They were particularly drawn to the Lesser Burdock, nectaring at the thistle-like flowers or sucking the sap. If you dawdled on the overgrown path, the Greylings would treat you as a convenient perch.
There was a moment of drama near the small reservoir. A very large butterfly rushed at me from a tree. After two intense fluttering attacks, targetting the back of my head, it returned to its high perch. Though all over in a flash, I’m pretty sure the ambush had been staged by a Camberwell Beauty.
Red-veined Darters were flying in red and gold tandem. Little Grebes ululated from the reeds and laughter and screams drifted over from the nearby farmhouse – the sounds of an open air swimming pool on a summer’s day.
I found the path that turns through the holm oaks onto a secluded balcony, directly opposite Tagamanent and other Montseny landmarks. Dragonflies were hunting at the edge of the precipice. A Black-tailed Skimmer gorged on a large fly. A kestrel floated past, escorted by House martins. The wild call of buzzards resonated, as two flew in unison. Swifts were flying overhead on a clear path south, leaving us already.
In a recent conversation, looking under rocks had been advocated, so out in a clearing I lifted one at random. It was quite heavy and I had to put it down almost immediately. The image of a pale scorpion lingered though, flat as a zodiac symbol. Back among the butterflies, I found a small Pearly Heath (Coenonympha arcania), with a sparse clarity to its ocelli and a silvery edge to its underwings.
I stopped to watch the ravens before going back downhill. They were gathering in numbers, diving and swerving, and best of all, flipping onto their backs. I saw them assembling by the antennae for a preliminary swirl – a warm up for the major swarm before twilight.
Birds, butterflies, Cingles de Berti, Trip reports | Tags: Cingles de Berti, day trips by train from barcelona, day trips from Barcelona, Mediterranean butterflies, papallones en Catalunya, raven colonies, ravens in Spain, walk with excellent views near Barcelona, walks near Barcelona|
The woods in Montseny are at their brightest in late March. They’ve still to grow a roof, and the light pours down. We’d wandered off the track, picking a way over rocks buried in last year’s leaves, and sat down among dazzling celandines, next to a stream turned into a torrent by melting snow from Turó de l’Home.
Stephanie had just poured us tea, when a shadow came fluttering, and something settled behind me. Looking round, I was amazed to see a Camberwell Beauty sitting by my elbow. I took a photograph, trying to move as little as possible, which explains the strange angle.
After a winter of hibernation, the rich mahogany wings were threadbare, like old velvet curtains. The pale yellow border looked like fragile parchment. The blue spots, which can be an intense indigo, had also faded. But despite this, it was a magnificent sight in the woods, still only on the verge of spring.
Underneath the wings are dark brown with a pale edge, which helps with identification when the butterfly is flying high in the tree tops.
And then there were four of us: another Camberwell Beauty had arrived and was perched next to us on a branch. The two noticed each other, and went whirling off together.
That day the sun roused many butterflies out into the open. Brimstones were nectaring on dandelions – they had thousands to chose from. A missing piece from its wing couldn’t detract from this stunning Peacock feasting on catkins.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny | Tags: butterflies in Montseny, Camberwell beauty in Spain, Good place to see butterflies in Spain, hibernation of Camberwell Beauty, March butterflies in Spain, Mediterranean butterflies, Nymphalis antiopa in Spain|
The plan was to walk along the small river that comes down from Montseny to Aiguafreda, marked on the map as the Riera de Pujol. It was a bit disconcerting to find a bone-dry river bed, but a few shallow puddles on the outskirts of Aiguafreda encouraged me to keep walking. A kingfisher hunting by a small dam was an even more hopeful sign.
The sporadic pools were linking up. A waterfall crashed down, where a man stood immersed up to his chin, eyes closed, exulting in the cold water. Up on the dusty track, the sun was scorching hot. Two women from the fire-prevention squad had parked their jeep and were refilling water bottles at the spring. I followed a path that dipped steeply under the trees.
It was like stepping into a church. At the end of the vault of trees there was a flat gravelly bank. Beyond that point the river deepened and levelled off, and the water grew still. On one side were smooth grey rocks, where a dipper had been perching, and the other bank was a tangle of vegetation in full blast of the sun. Boots flung off, I cooled down in the shade, and observed the scene.
There was a general commotion: iridescent damselflies flashed turquoise, clusters of butterflies fed, mated and basked, quantities of spindly water striders littered the water and light dappled on every surface. As usual when you sit in one spot for long, dimensions began shifting. Soon I was looking at a vast wilderness river, flowing by sheer grey cliffs and impenetrable jungle. Then I’d wade out into the canyon and, with water just above my knees, the world would shrink again.
The sunny bank was bustling with butterflies. Dusty pink Hemp-agrimony and a large dome of Wild Angelica were the most popular attractions, attended by a constant crowd of Silver-washed Fritillaries (Argynnis paphia). Any butterfly that fell into the water soon disappeared under wiry clumps of striders.
Most beguiling of all were the Beautiful Demoiselles (Calopteryx virgo), whose name goes straight to the point. The males would display their wings in a flash of dark blue silk, like peacocks.
The females are very metallic, a white spot on each of their four bronze wings, their abdomens a coppery green.
An impish damselfly perched on a twig, as if flown straight out of Dr. Caligari’s cabinet. Though in silhouette, the dark band of its narrow wings revealed it to be a female Copper Demoiselle (Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis).
Engrossed in damselflies, legs pleasantly chilled, a sharp pain made me look down. The mob of water striders were honing in for a nibble.
I retreated to the cool gravelly bank and lay listening to the water tumbling over rocks to fill the canyon. A waspish Large Pincertail (Onychogomphus uncatus – see Forum) settled on a stone. The dipper returned, flying low up-river. From this angle its white breast looked enormous. A Silver-washed Fritillary floated down like an autumn leaf. Occasionally a gust of wind would come up the valley, roaring in the tree tops, making the branches creak. It was a reminder of the hot world out there. It felt good down in the cool green vault.
I began to hear the sound of car doors slamming – post-siesta people coming to stock up with spring water. I walked up-river for a while, rock-hopping, and surprised a sparrowhawk who’d also been quiet down under the trees.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny, Odonata - dragonflies and damselflies | Tags: Argynnis paphia, Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis, Calopteryx virgo, day trip from Barcelona, escaping Barcelona heat, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean damselfies, montseny in august, river walk in Montseny, Silver-washed fritillaries, walks in Montseny|
The road up to Santa Fe is one of countless twists. You climb, swinging to the right and the left, until finally you take another turn and find you’ve left the Mediterranean behind. It was intoxicating to be out of the coastal heat and in an under-canopy world of streams, fungus, and beetles that glow like sapphires.
We’d planned a short walk to a rocky outcrop known as the “Empedrat de Morou”, a good place for lunch. But an hour later, we were still within a stone’s throw of the visitors’ centre. It’s what happens when coastal urbanites are let lose in a completely diferent habitat.
Chafer beetles (Hoplia caerulea) were scattered in profusion near the stream, shining in the deep deciduous shade. We watched them stretch their limbs and use their hooked extremities to negotiate the leaves. Then there was the enticing pool by the tree roots, where tadpoles lurked, legs sticking out at right angles (identification pending). But by the time the Camberwell Beauty flew past, pursuit would’ve been stretching patience. On we went, towards lunch on the Empedrat de Morou.
The route took us through coppiced chestnuts and into the solemn beech wood, among large granite boulders. But clearings were frequent and all had butterfly activity, to the consternation of those with growing hunger pangs. A Comma (Polygonia c-album) was chased away to thwart more photography sessions. Then a stunning Queen of Spain Fritillary (Issoria lathonia) settled on the track, marked like a cheetah above, and with large silvery spots below.
Despite gnawing hunger, it was worth holding out to the Empedrat de Morou. The rocks are smooth, the view inspiring, and there were even chives growing in the cracks, for forager Nick to spice up his sandwiches. Other fissures were filled with white flowering stonecrop, possibly Sedum hirsutum. While eating you could look over the Santa Fe valley at the Turo del’Home, partially hidden in the clouds.
The mist suddenly went roaming and came swirling around us, so we ducked down into the woods again. Although the trail was simple, we managed to lose it, and for a while were plunging ankle-deep in beech leaves and marshy soil. All kinds of fungus had emerged after last week’s rain, with thick white stems and caps like freshly baked bread.
We hit solid ground again near the small reservoir, which used to provide electricity for the Santa Fe hotel. There were Heath spotted orchids (Dactylorhiza maculata) and wild strawberries by the path. We went past a stream where water slid over the rocks in a succession of pools and waterfalls – an otter’s playgound. Monica did some sliding too, but luckily had dry clothes to get changed into.
On the way down, back to the coast, we pulled over for a while and walked about in the warm light mist. Vapours were pouring up the slope, like smoke out of a chimney. The roadsides were filled with colour: Nettle-leaved bellflowers (Campanula trachelium), Yarrow (Achillea millefoium), and vivid Pinks (Dianthus seguieri) and Violets (Viola bubanii). The last moments of calm were savoured before going home.
butterflies, Insects, Montseny, Plants | Tags: beech wood of Santa Fe, Dianthus seguieri, Empedrat de Morou, Hoplia caerulea, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean wildflowers, Queen of Spain fritillary, Santa Fe, trips near barcelona, Viola bubanii, walking in Montseny, wild flowers of Montseny|
Swatting off scarlet and black mylabris beetles, I walked down to the horse paddocks. Summer’s hit us like a sledgehammer, and mornings have been too hot to go out and look for butterflies (or anything). In the mellow evening sun, among olive and carob trees, I looked around to see what was about. Behind me, horses snorted and a Golden Oriole was calling.
Most of the scabious has gone to seed already, and the only flowers were thistles and stonecrop. A Common Blue perched on a dried flower head, slowly turning in a semi-circle, as if to make sure all sections of the audience got a full view of its violet shimmer.
No sooner had the Common Blue flown, its place was immediately taken by a Long-tailed Blue. It shifted its wings, but kept them closed, a beige slip of a butterfly. In no hurry to move, it let me get close and see the “face” in the corner – the imitation antenna and eye spots.
When I got too close for comfort and the Long-tailed Blue moved on, I noticed something magnificent further up the slope, motionless on a wild carrot flower. I approached carefully, commando-style. After staring so long at the diminutive Longtailed Blue, the sheer size of the Swallowtail, boldly outlined in black, was impressive. Its abdomen hung down like a paper lantern.
One of the benefits of hunkering down quietly in the grass for ages is that you pass unnoticed. Over in the horse paddock, I watched a rabbit stop to scratch its back. It lost patience and rolled over to rub the elusive spot, legs in the air. All around sparrows were taking dust baths. The rabbit suddenly detected my presence and froze, white tum stretched out, before bounding off into the trees.
butterflies, Collserola | Tags: Barcelona in July, common blue, common swallowtail, lampides boeticus, longtailed blue, Mediterranean butterflies, papilio machaon, photographing butterflies, Polyommatus icarus, walking in collserola, walks around Barcelona, watching butterflies|
There’s a moment in every good firework display when, after a steady build-up, all the remaining ammunition gets simultaneously used up in a single relentless climax, leaving spectators gaping in awe. That’s what’s happening on Collserola’s hill-sides at the moment.
From a distance you can already see the golden broom lighting up the slopes – Thorny (Calicotome spinosa) and Spanish (Spartium junceum). Honeysuckle (Lonicera implexa) weaves into the sky, inflated pink tentacles turning into white flowers. Lavender petals crinkle like crepe paper flames. Rock roses fire off flowers faster than the fragile petals are shed.
All this exuberance has shrunk the paths and you brush your way through, smothered in fragrance and pollen. A Southern white admiral (Limenitis reducta) was resting in the shade. Like a magpie, it looks black and white in flight, but, depending on the light, can suddenly turn deep blue.
Painted Ladies streamed up the hill, as well as Marsh Fritillaries (Euphydryas aurinia), whose markings seem drawn by hand.
All this splendour has a soundtrack of nightingales, singing their extensive repertoire. They stay undercover but don’t object if you stand near by and listen.
Collserola: guided walks
butterflies, Collserola, Plants | Tags: Barcelona walks, broom, Euphydryas aurinia, honeysuckle, lavender, Limenitis reducta, Lonicera implexa, maquia, meadow fritillary, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean flora, southern white admiral, Spartium junceum|
In summer this small stony field overlooking the valley of Sant Just turns into a fennel jungle. In spring it’s a magic carpet of Sweet alyssum and Field marigolds, with scarlet poppies woven in. There’s a zest of fresh fennel as new sprigs sprout among the brittle sticks of last year’s crop. Painted Ladies (Vanessa cardui) spread their wings on the flowers, as flat as mortarboards.
On the grassy slopes nearby, light is glancing off the Cleopatra butterflies (Gonepteryx cleopatra) that float among the Crimson peas. I always hope that one will open up while feeding. They never do, of course, but on this sunny April day the male’s orange blush is visible through translucent wings.
Grey-leaved cistus is in flower everywhere, liberally scattering pink petals. Lavender is blooming alongside the thyme. Appropriately for Easter Monday, I find a Tassle Hyacinth (Muscari comosum). They’re known as Nazarenos in Spanish, named after the cone-headed penitents that march in Easter processions, often in sombre purple gowns.
Down a narrow shady path, periwinkles star the ground, filling every available space. Common Smilax has shiny new leaves and fresh tentacles, itching to cling. Glossy pale green leaves of Black spleenwort (Asplenium adiantum-nigram) loom out of the shadows. A wren scolds loudly, despite a beakful of nesting material.
Collserola: guided walks
Barcelona, butterflies, Collserola, Plants | Tags: Black spleenwort, Cleopatra butterfy, Fennel, Gonepteryx cleopatra, Mediterranean butterflies, Muscari comosum, Pained lady, spring Mediterranean flowers, Tassle hyacinth, Vanessa cardui, walking in Barcelona|
On a trip to the Mediterranean, far from their Cantabrian mountain homes, Lisa and Teresa ventured into the big city to meet up with the Iberianature Barcelona contingent. Nick and I then accompanied them for a tour of some of the natural spaces that sustain the metropolitan populace.
The Garraf is an antidote to claustrophobic canyons, which is how Barcelona’s streets sometimes feel. It’s an airy expanse of garrigue-covered hills, open to the shining sea. We didn’t have to go far to find the Two-tailed Pasha (Charaxes jasius), top on Lisa and Teresa’s list along with the Autumn narcissus (Narcissus serotinus). While the Pashas chased each other around the fig trees near the visitors’ centre, Lisa and Teresa stalked them with their cameras.
Meanwhile, Nick and I followed a signposted botanical route, an excellent way to learn some of the plant species typical of the area: Kermes oak, Prickly juniper, and cistus. Nick spotted a solitary white flower, fragile among all the tough leathery leaves and spines. It was photographed and duly forgotten. We also discovered that the Garraf strawberry trees (Arbutus unedo) produce some of the best arbutus cherries anywhere: sweet and acidic, unlike the bland fruit I’d tasted before. They clearly thrive on this sun-soaked limestone terrain.
The lonely white flower did turn out to be an Autumn narcissus, as was discovered much later in the car. It was too late to turn back, but Teresa forgave us and continued to share her extensive knowledge. So we were able to learn that the Tree heath (Erica arborea) familiar to everyone who walks in Collserola only grows in acidic soil, and here is replaced by the purple-flowering Mediterranean heath (Erica multiflora). An insect slipping its black segments across the fallen pine needles turned out to be a Glow worm larva (Lampyris noctiluca), with a voracious appetite for snails. A dirty clump of debris hanging on a guardrail was identified as the case of a Bagworm.
After some debate, we decided there was time for the Llobregat Delta. Back down at sea level and just after the turn-off for the reserve, something white caught our eye: an extensive patch of Autumn Narcissi.
After liberal applications of mosquito repellent and an osprey-sighting, we crossed the bridge into the reserve. Outside the hides, translucent herons fished in sparkling water, sandpipers bathed in the shallows, cattle egrets groomed the horses, kingfishers streaked here and there, and spoonbills tried to keep up with their restless spatula-shaped bills.
There was little time left, but Collserola could not be missed. Up by the Forat del Vent, suitably windy, a flock of Pekin robins (Leiothrix lutea) held our attention with their melodious Blackcap-like song. Unlike other exotic escapees that settle in more urban environments, these South Asian cage birds are breeding in woodlands. They’re being monitored but studies suggest their presence has so far had no harmful effect on the authoctonous species.
We’d run out of daylight. After dropping Nick and I off at the metro, Lisa and Teresa drove away for the next stage of their adventure.
Birds, Garraf, Insects, Llobregat Delta, Plants, Trip reports | Tags: Arbutus unedo, Barcelona birding, Charaxes jasius, Leiothrix lutea, Mediterranean butterflies, Mediterranean flora, Narcissus serotinus, Pekin robin, Strawberry tree, trips near barcelona, Two-tailed pasha|
It’s the time of year for unusual sightings in unexpected places. Recent observations recorded on 
Shortly after being born, this year’s brood of Peregrine falcon chicks were stolen from their nest in one of the Sagrada Familia towers. The robbery took place out of range of the web cam installed. Visitors have no access to this tower, but there are always plenty of workers milling around, since the Sagrada Familia is still under construction. Eduard Durany, responsible for monitoring Barcelona’s Peregrine falcons, emphasises the need for better security. Last year suspicious individuals were spotted trying to take food up to the falcons, who fetch a high price on the black market. After the theft, two chicks born in a wildlife recuperation centre were placed in the nest, but sadly the intended foster parents rejected them. See also the report on the ringing of 
After considerable procrastination, 
The areas of Barcelona nearest to the Collserola hills are now quite used to visits from the natural park’s thriving boar population, particularly at the end of summer when the ground is rock-hard and food supplies scarce. But on Saturday night a family of boars was seen trotting through Gràcia, a central barrio of the city, accessible only after crossing an extremely busy ring road. The same family has been observed this August exploring Gaudí’s Güell Park. There’s a 
