The trip to the Rye Harbour Nature Sanctuary seemed like it was going to be a disappointment. Our navigation programs led us down a path that took us not to the normal public entrance to the place but to a back entrance. Except it was locked. We didn't know how else to get there and didn't want to walk all the way back and still try to find it, thinking we would end up wasting our time, so we did hop the gate and popped up on the staircase over a ridge to see all the salt marshes and ponds. There were an additional 2 sets of gates between electrified fences, and the second gate was unlocked, so we thought perhaps we were okay after all and that the final gate would be the same, that maybe people were allowed in there after all. But we were wrong, and we had to hop the final gate, which fortunately was built in such a way that it could be scaled. But reader, please know that I do not advocate doing this. There was at least a pathway between the gates, perhaps for staff for perhaps it opens during non-breeding season, so I could at least ensure that we weren't stepping on anyone's nest or anything. But I felt terrible and also paranoid that we'd get in trouble. And once we made it onto the public pathway and to the beach, where I pictured there being all kinds of shorebirds, I was disappointed to see that there were only gulls, the same ones I'd see at my flat in London. I had seen something interesting, something I couldn't yet ID, alongside the dozens of black-headed gulls when we were in the part we weren't supposed to be in, but otherwise, there was nothing else. I thought wow, all that commotion for nothing. So we rested a bit on the beach and started back toward Rye Harbour to eat lunch and go back to the town of Rye.
As we started walking along the path, I discovered that there are several hides for birdwatching. I went into the first one, and it was in such a good spot to see a bunch of nesting black-headed gulls, and in addition, there was a black and white shorebird that I had never seen before but that was really interesting to watch. It liked to bob its head quite a bit. I learned later that it is an avocet (I think it's the only one in the UK, so they just called it that, but anywhere else it's referred to as a pied avocet, meaning feathers that are white and black). As I looked out another hide, I saw yet more of them, and I saw a few others lifers in addition to this one, so it ended up being a much better birding trip than it seemed it was going to be earlier.
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