Where do I start with this bird?
The Blue-cheeked Bee-eater has been my most wanted bird in Britain for years, and after finally seeing one in Morocco back in March, I thought that would have taken some of the pressure off. How wrong I was. While in Morocco, I was incredibly lucky to see six Blue-cheeked Bee-eaters by the side of the road. It was an unbelievable experience and a day I will never forget. Watching these stunning birds in their natural surroundings was something really special, but deep down I still had that dream of seeing one in Britain.
Of course, I had followed the story of last year's bird on Iona in the Western Isles through my good friend's amazing photos and updates. I could have gone for it, but I made the mistake of thinking it would be gone the next morning. It wasn't, and I was absolutely gutted. Then came the news on 13th July that a Blue-cheeked Bee-eater had been discovered on Papa Westray by 13-year-old islander Jakey Baker, becoming the first record for Orkney. A couple of my mates travelled up the next day and connected with the bird, while I was stuck at work, unable to get away. Again, I was gutted.
The bird performed brilliantly on Papa Westray, staying for around 48 hours and giving incredible, often very close views as it hawked insects over the island. By 15th July, improving weather and the appearance of a hunting Merlin seemed to unsettle it, and the bird departed that afternoon. The photos started appearing online, and once again I was left staring at images of a bird I desperately wanted to see. Another chance gone, or so I thought. Photographs later confirmed that the same individual had actually been present on neighbouring Westray on 11th July, two days before it was found on Papa Westray.
Then, after almost two weeks without any further news, the bird was relocated on Sanday on 28th July. It stayed until mid-afternoon before disappearing again, only to be relocated on the island once more the following day, 29th July. By this point, I was going slightly mad. I had booked a chartered boat leaving from Kirkwall on Saturday, 1st August. It was a long shot, especially as my car was in the garage on Friday, but I had to try. Once again, though, the bird could not be relocated the next day. The frustration was unbelievable, and after all the missed opportunities, I honestly felt like giving up.
Then, while I was out on Sunday morning, my phone rang. It was Dan Pointon. “The bird has been relocated to North Ronaldsay.” That was the moment everything changed. I made a few phone calls about work because this was now going to be a two-day mission. By the evening, there was no sign again of the bird after it had shown all day, so I got in contact with George Gay, the North Ronaldsay bird warden, who sent me this message.
What do I do now? Chance it? Jenna, my partner, and Dan both gave me the push I needed. Dan simply said, “You’re not going to see it sat in Cheshire.” Jenna was even more convincing: “Just go. You’ll see it.” That was it. I booked the flights. I was going.
I left Cheshire at 9pm, made a few stops on the way, parked the van in Aberdeen, and caught the bus to the airport, arriving just before 7am. As every twitcher knows, the mind goes into overdrive during these moments. I was pacing around the airport, smoking like a trooper and constantly checking my phone. Then came the news I was dreading.
Unbelievable. I went for a coffee and another smoke, trying to convince myself that maybe this wasn't going to happen. Then, just as I was leaving the smoking area, my phone buzzed. It was George. The bird had reappeared on the fence at Burra and was showing.
The emotions went from complete devastation to total excitement in seconds. Now I just needed it to stay for the next three hours while I made my way across to North Ronaldsay.
The flight to Kirkwall went smoothly.
I never fully trust flying in Scotland with the weather and low cloud, but thankfully we landed safely, and I checked straight in for my onward flight. That final hour felt like the longest hour ever. Blue-cheeked Bee-eaters are primarily diurnal migrants; they feed up and then move on, so this was bloody agony- the wait. I must have walked hundreds of steps around the airport car park waiting. Eventually, the flight was called. We were up in the air and, just 15 minutes later, we landed on North Ronaldsay.
George was waiting for me as soon as I landed, and we jumped in the car and headed straight for the bird. Then, as we turned a corner, George suddenly stopped. We scanned the fence line, and there it was, just sitting there. The Blue-cheeked Bee-eater.
You beauty
I honestly cannot explain the relief. After all the missed chances, all the travelling, the lack of sleep, and the stress, I was finally looking at the bird I had wanted to see in Britain for so long. I got out of the car completely drained emotionally and mentally, but there it was. What a bird.
All photos were kindly given to me by George Gay
The next few hours were just incredible. I sat watching the bird on my own while George had other things to do, and it was one of those moments you never forget. I had travelled all this way, with hardly any sleep, and I was sitting with what I think is one of the best birds I have ever seen in Britain. In the middle of nowhere, in a random field on North Ronaldsay. It was perfect. The bird was incredibly faithful, spending long periods sitting motionless on the fence before suddenly launching itself into the air to catch insects, then returning to the same spot. After everything this bird had put me through, I could finally relax and enjoy it. The torment this bird had caused me was finally over. It was on the list.
The North Ronaldsay bird was an incredibly memorable rarity event, especially considering how difficult these birds can be to connect with. The majority of accepted British records have involved birds present for just a single day, with only a handful lingering long enough to give birders a realistic chance. The Orkney bird became the fourth British record in seven years, following birds at Achnahaird, Highland, in 2019, Foula, Shetland, in 2023, and Iona, Argyll, in 2025.
I eventually left the bird just after 5pm and started making my way back towards the observatory. I was absolutely exhausted and starving, needing food and a drink after the madness of the previous 24 hours. On the way back, I stopped at Ancum Loch and was rewarded with cracking views of a juvenile Red-necked Phalarope.
Juvenile Red-necked Phalarope
Then, just as I was passing Holland House, the North Ronaldsay WhatsApp group sent out a message. The bee-eater had followed me. It had flown south and was perched on the wires, then it flew into a garden. A few moments later, the bird came straight over my head, calling before heading back north and settling again on the fence. You couldn't make it up.
Late evening was spent in the bird observatory, and the food served up was first class, just what I needed.
Rum and Raisin ice cream!
Another birder from the mainland had arrived on the last flight and had also seen the bird, Rob Laughton. We had a good chat about the bird, but I needed sleep and said my goodnights; I was flat out by 9pm. I was knackered.
Getting up the next morning, we had no time to look for the Bee-eater as we were off the island on the first flight. Today was going to be a day of travelling. A big thank you to all the North Ronaldsay Obs staff, and especially George, who kept me informed of the bird practically from the moment I left home until I got there. I arranged to get a lift back with Rob to Inverness so I could catch the train to Aberdeen, get my van and drive home, which was really kind of him. I eventually arrived back in Cheshire at 2am the next morning, shattered.
But was it worth it? Of course it was. After all the missed chances, all the travelling, the lack of sleep, the stress, and the frustration, I had finally seen it. The Blue-cheeked Bee-eater. In Britain, and somehow, after everything this bird had put me through, that made finally seeing it even more special. One of the three childhood dream birds was finally on the list.
One dream remains.
