Trip reports seem to be very popular at the moment, so I’ll follow the trend. Each year in July I spend a few weeks in the Alps (even-numbered years) or the Pyrenees (odd-numbered years), so this year was the Alps. I tend to visit known sites for specific species plus I do quite a lot of research, mainly on Google Earth, of new locations that look as though they may be interesting.
So I have a fixed itinerary, mainly because I don’t want to be searching for somewhere to stay at the end of the day, but it does mean a lack of flexibility. It has become increasingly the case that many hotels and B&Bs in the Alps are now fully booked in July as the number of randonneurs (serious walkers, who never seem to stop to look at the nature around them) seems to increase each year. And – another absolute necessity – ensure no clash with the irritating bicycle race they insist on having every year in July.
We start from the south coast of France where we stay in June, and I drop my wife off at Nice airport on 28 June to fly back to the UK. She has done these trips many times and seven hours in the field for 24 days is having less and less appeal.
I’ll say at the outset that 2024 has been (even so far) a strange year like no other. After two years of serious drought and excessive temperatures, the spring of 2024 was excessively wet. Rivers that had become dry suddenly started to flow again. And the rain that fell in lowland regions, fell as snow at higher altitudes in the same vast quantities, to the extent that the higher mountain passes were closed until mid-June and the melting snow meant that the mountain rivers became torrents.
Even in Var, a very species-rich region of southern France, the baked effect of previous years produced very sparse butterfly numbers in the spring. The season appeared to be at least two weeks late (if indeed the season was late rather than no season) and that was equally the case at altitude.
So, first stop the Mercantour, in normal years a verdant and rich region. Flowery meadows at 1400m had good species diversity and density, one highlight being a mating pair of Southern White Admirals (
Limenitis reducta), a species like many
Nymphalids that are very secretive
in copula. This image is focussed on the female (less often seen) underside.
This is the first time I have seen a pair, and here the female leads (as usual) and is on the right. The macro lens enables photos to be taken at some distance so the subject species is not disturbed. I watched for a while and they parted naturally, then the female rested, as here.
29 June and on to everyone’s favourite zig-zag hill track at 1000m. Strangely, the lavender bushes, normally a magnet and covered in butterflies, were completely bare despite being clearly in flower. One odd aspect of 2024 was that some species, usually highly localised, were being found in locations where they had previously not been known, such as Southern Swallowtail (
Papilio alexanor), seen (not by me) at this track (for the first time?) and at least two other locations previously unknown. One key species here is the iconic Chequered Blue (
Scolitantides orion), here a female underside with the characteristic bold black markings.
At this location I encountered a group of Dutch and Irish butterfly photographers. We chatted briefly and they said they were following a trip report from 2014. Then they said they recognised me from the report, helped by the fact that I was still wearing the same shirt (not continuously, I hasten to add).
Heading north now toward the Col de la Bonnette which was clearly going to be too early for any butterflies, at least at the higher reaches. There is a location on the way that follows the Tinée valley and this was my next stop. I had seen
alexanor there a couple of years ago, but no luck this time. There is, however, a very reliable puddling spot which usually features a number of species, one of the most appealing to my eyes is that several Swallowtails (
P. machaon) gather together and they are always fresh. I once referred to it as the “ordinary” Swallowtail (to differentiate it from the Scarce Swallowtail (
Iphiclides podalirius)) and was sharply rebuked on the grounds – rightly so – that there is nothing ordinary about it. Indeed. I have seen six in company but this year only five. Here is one immaculately fresh, with some of its compatriots.
Just beginning, 21 days to go…
