Flight of flamingos

The shifting marshy area, half land and half sea, of the Rhone delta is desolate yet uniquely appealing. A wilderness full of exotic images. An area where land and sea have agreed to live in an unstable relationship.

This is the Camargue.


The beach at Saintes-Maries de la Mer empty save for the odd late evening swimmer and a few children playing football. The debris from the sun seeking masses strewn across the expansive sands awaiting the overnight clean up. The Mediterranean turning colder and darker. A deep steel blue. The sun finally giving in to the forces of nature, dipping majestically down under the horizon. Spain ….Africa….no far beyond….. as far as the imagination.

Just sitting quietly. Time to enjoy a bottle of Listel gris….chilled to an inch of it’s life. And Mussels cooked over an open fire.

Then just as the sun disappears below the distant horizon the finest of all sights.

From the west a flight of flamingos return from the Etang de Maugio ou de l’Or, just south east of Montpellier, to Camargue.

The sun’s rays burning the underside of the flamingos a brilliant red. A red beyond the intensity of any found on an artist's palette..

This ritualistic passage of birds from Montpellier to Camargue, and back, is repeated daily. The feeding grounds and overnight resting places a genetic habit. An inbuilt need as strong as football supporters getting out of bed and driving north to see their team.

Stafford Services is just one of the many feeding grounds across the UK. A stop over for Liverpool and Manchester United supporters travelling north from Tokyo and Southampton.

And Saturday was no disappointment. A service station full of Flamingos…with the odd Egret and just the one Phoenix. But no Listel gris…..


I like Altrincham. In fact for probably the only time in all the years that I have watched the Shots….I wanted the opposition to win. Yes, the occasion was the last game of the 06/07 season . And yes, I wanted Altrincham to win. We scrapped a draw and they were relegated.

But then salvation….dodgy Boston United, and we found ourselves back at Moss Lane.

The ground is one of my favourites. Compact and well cared for. New floodlights this season…well almost….to replace the ones erected during the year of England’s World Cup victory.

And the game….Aldershot in need of experience and control in midfield. Altrincham lacking in any cutting edge. Bully…his mind on other matters?…turning a comfortable 3 points into a scramble.

And no mushy peas. Grays Athletic to blame as they only purchased two portions the previous week….probably not that bad a market penetration, given the size of their away support.

Forest Green tonight…..and a visit to the new Lawn.

I liked the old one…..