www.ukbutterflies.co.uk

I have just returned from a 6 night trip out to the French Alps, flying into Nice and travelling north through the Alpes Maritime, Alpes de Haute Provence, Hautes Alpes and just across the border into Savoie. As travel restrictions began to be lifted in early July, I immediately felt the itch to get back out for some European butterfly action, having already suffered the disappointment of three cancelled European forays so far this year.

I take my hat off to Roger and David for getting back out there so quickly, and to Jim for following suit. But the earliest practicable and sensibly priced Easyjet flight couldn't get me to Nice before early August. I procrastinated only briefly (if that is lexically feasible) then booked a cheap return flight from London Luton, along with a rather savagely expensive hire car, and on 4th August found myself driving up into the mountains alongside the river Var.

Early August is well past peak species-diversity time in this part of the world, and I wasn't sure exactly what to expect in terms of butterfly numbers, what with mixed reports coming back from others as to whether the season was running early or late, but I decided that an early August trip might give me a good chance to catch up with the Larche Ringlet. This is a species that I have seen just once, back in 2011 (a single male), and one that I haven't managed to photograph, or indeed find again, since. It has the reputation of being highly localized and difficult to find.

Other than Larche Ringlet I didn't have any specific targets, but hoped to see a few species that fly slightly later in the summer. I also wasn't entirely sure what it would be like travelling in France during a pandemic, especially as numbers of Coronavirus infections were beginning to rise again across much of Europe. Was this wise? Was this madness?

Tuesday 4th August
My first stop was at a site south of Beauvezer, next to a lake, where my first European butterflies of 2020 were Weaver's Fritillary and Damon Blue. B.dia P.damon
Berger's Clouded Yellow, Chalkhill Blue and Wood White added to the experience. It was good to be back!

By now it was late afternoon, and I was tired from my travels and early start, so I headed to my hotel in Beauvezer where I was to be based for 2 nights. The proprietor met me as soon as I had stepped out of my hire car, masked and pointing me to a bottle of hand-sanitizer by the hotel entrance. My room key was given to me in a damp wet-wipe soaked in alcohol gel. This was reassuring!

Wednesday 5th August
Following an early night, I was up and out on the road shortly after 8am, heading for potential Larche Ringlet country. I planned to search scree slopes close to where this species was first found in the region back in July 1831. But first, I had a serious climb ahead of me. On the way up to the scree slopes it became clear that Damon Blue was out in tremendous numbers. I have seen this butterfly in reasonable quantity in July in the past, but nowhere near as numerous as during my 6 days out here this time. It was by far the commonest blue at almost every site I visited, with only the Chalkhill Blue occasionally challenging it for abundance. No problem there, for it is one of my favourite blues! P.damon
Another species that was about in massively greater numbers than I have seen before was the Dusky Meadow Brown. It was everywhere, outnumbering standard Meadow Browns by about 10 to 1. It is hard to believe that prior to this visit I believe that I had seen very few definite Dusky Meadow Browns in this region, although now that I have seen them in such quantity, it is much easier to differentiate them by their behaviour - one of the advantages of spending time in the field with plenty of a species that you are not too familiar with is that you soon pick up on their "jizz". H.lycaon
The fabulous Apollo was still on the wing, if a little faded and past its best. P.apollo
The sight of such beauties kept my spirits up as I continued my climb, before eventually reaching my target habitat. Scree slopes west of Beauvezer
I spent a long time looking for the Larche Ringlet here, but sadly didn't find it, and as the heat of the afternoon intensified, I made my way back down to the car, knees complaining all the way on the descent!
Feeling the need for some air conditioning I then drove down into Colmars and up to the Col des Champs, along a road that a certain revered UKBer once describe to me as "one of the worst in Europe". Although I can think of several other candidates, I can see what he means. The road is too narrow along much of its length for two cars to pass, there are hardly any barriers on the drop-side to prevent you from descending, the local drivers seem to use it as a race track, and in places it feels as though the road itself is simply losing the will to remain on the mountainside and is intent on slipping down along with the scree on either side.
The Col des Champs was rather disappointing, suffering from much worse overgrazing than when I was last there, although Damon Blue was still plentiful enough, along with a selection of fritillaries and skippers in small numbers.

Thursday 6th August
Today's plan was to take a look at a second potential Larche Ringlet site, this time to the east of Beauvezer, past the Col des Champs. The habitat looked good, and once again there was a steep climb involved. More scree habitat
The first butterfly to catch my eye was a darkish looking Erebia that was flying up and down the scree. It turns out that it was a species with no sense of the concept of social distancing, for within less than a minute it had landed on my socks, my walking boots, and even my fingertip. It was the Marbled Ringlet, a species that I had only seen once before in mid-August 2012, so it was a great pleasure to meet up with it again. Also, I was sure that I had read somewhere that this species is considered to be sympatric with scipio, which gave me hope that today might be my lucky day! E.montana
A couple of hours later, with no sign of Larche Ringlet, it was time to concede defeat again.
So I drove on past St.Martin d'Entraunes and began the ascent up the Col de la Cayolle, stopping at several hot spots on the way. There were some great butterflies on the wing, but two that really caught my eye were the females of the Spotted Fritillary and Scarce Copper. The former throws some beautiful dark forms on occasion, and I have to agree with Roger that the female Scarce Copper is an absolutely gorgeous creature, probably second only to the female Violet Copper in terms of feminine coppery beauty. M.didyma L.virgaureae
A wealth of other species were found. Skippers included Olive, Southern Grizzled, Carline, Large Grizzled, Tufted Marbled, Silver-spotted, and others. Blues included Mazarine, Common, Eros, Damon, Chalkhill, Mountain Argus etc. Amongst the fritillaries were Knapweed, Spotted, False Heath, Dark Green, High Brown, Niobe, Lesser Marbled, Titania's, and Shepherds. And from the Erebias, Arran Brown, Large Ringlet, Mountain Ringlet, Scotch Argus, Piedmont Ringlet, and by far the commonest Erebia of the trip, Western Brassy Ringlet, which seemed to reach plague proportions at almost all mid-to-high altitude settings. E.arvernensis
Then it was time to retire to my hotel in St.Martin d'Entraunes, where I was to be staying for just one night.

Friday 7th August
Breakfast this morning was slightly disappointing. I was presented with a tray containing a rather small piece of French bread, a tiny piece of toast, and one of the smallest croissants I have ever seen, along with a pot of jam (miniature of course) and a small glass of orange juice. I asked madame if I could possibly have some cheese and ham, to which I received the reply that it was "le petit dejeuner Francais". Didn't she know I had scree slopes to climb? A few moments after I had started eating, she returned with a single thin slice of ham, and presented it to me as if she was doing me the biggest of favours. I was, of course, suitably and politely appreciative!
Stomach still rumbling, I set off up and over the Col de la Cayolle, and was soon driving along one of my least favourite bits of road. I am not usually fazed by mountain roads, but about half way down from the Cayolle towards Barcelonette is a section of road that just gives me the creeps. It has been engineered into the side of a mountain where no road should ever have been positioned, and I get the shivers every time I drive along it.

From Barcelonette I headed up the Col de Vars and stopped off at a well known site in the hope that there might still be one or two late Blind Ringlets on the wing. This is another species of which I need a digital photograph, having only seen it once before in the Haute Savoie back in 2001 in my pre-digital days. Almond-eyed and Piedmont Ringlets were flying here, along with a few Scotch Argus, but despite searching for over an hour, I didn't get the slightest sniff of pharte (sometimes this stuff just writes itself...)

Next it was on to the Col de Larche, just across into Italy, where I was now on my third attempt to track down the eponymous Ringlet. Here I put in a huge amount of cardiovascular effort, but yet again, no sign of my quarry. There were several Erebias flying relentlessly up and down the slopes, almost certainly Sooty Ringlet and probably Silky also, but they were not stopping.
I returned to my hotel in Le Sauze and contemplated my plans for tomorrow.

Saturday 8th August
In desperation, I decided on a long drive north today. Lafranchis mentions the Col du Galibier as a Larche Ringlet site in his book Papillons de France, so it was here that I headed next. Now this looked good. Surely I would find scipio here. And with a flight period given as "mi-juillet a debut septembre" what could go wrong? This scree slope is actually very user-friendly, as you can park opposite a track and walk, on the level, right out across the scree without the exertion of near-vertical travel. It felt promising. Three hours later, and all that I had seen was a passing Mountain Clouded Yellow and half a dozen Sooty Ringlets. Don't get me wrong, I love Mountain Clouded Yellows, and you certainly don't see Sooty Ringlets every day, so I was pretty happy. The Sooty Ringlets did actually land once or twice, as usual a long way away, and I managed a "black smudge" shot, although not as good as Roger's: E.pluto

A little further up the road, Mountain Clouded Yellows were being more obliging. C.phicomone

Crossing over the Col into the Savoie department, I pulled in to have a look at a site recommended by David M as a possible late season Blind Ringlet bet. Here Lesser Mountain Ringlets were flying in better numbers than I have ever seen them, and I half expected that one of them may turn out to be blind, but every one that I got close to was Lesser Mountain. There were also some nice Mountain Fritillaries flying here. B.napaea E.melampus

The drive back to the hotel took forever. By now the roads were full of bikers, cyclists, camper vans (no offence Jim!), and huge volumes of cars. Briancon was almost gridlocked. Apparently in common with many other countries, in France people are opting for holidaying at home rather than abroad this summer. I have never seen it so busy. Parking up many of the cols was completely overloaded.

Sunday 9th August
This was my last day here, so I took one last drive up towards the Col de Larche, but this time stopping off well before the col on the French side, above the village of Larche. Another climb, another wild goose chase, and now I had officially failed to locate scipio. It was time to head back slowly over the Col de la Bonette, stopping at several points on the way. I have a favourite spot on the descent towards St.etienne de Tinee, where I always stop off. This year it was pretty quiet, just a few late Mountain Fritillaries and a few pyrgus including this Olive Skipper: P.serratulae
One species that had been strangely absent all holiday was the Queen of Spain Fritillary, but at last one turned up here, although if you like your QOS fresh, then this one probably isn't for you. I.lathonia

Finally, I drove on to Stephane's hotel, and took a walk for an hour along the famous track. thunder was growling around the Tinee valley by now, and the light was fading rapidly as clouds thickened. Many butterflies were beginning to roost up, but I did get to see a slightly worn male Foulquier's Grizzled Skipper, Great Sooty Satyr, Great-banded, Woodland and False Graylings, and most notably, large numbers (several dozens) of huge and fresh Dryad.

The trip ended with a fine meal, Stephane joined me for a beer and a catch up, and then it was time to retire, as I had an early drive back to the airport the following morning.

So - la sagesse ou la folie? It was absolutely fantastic to be back out in the Alps of south east France! Despite failing to see my main target of Larche Ringlet, I had a brilliant and dreamlike time. I saw several species in far greater numbers than I have before, and got to know some of them much better, notably Dusky Meadow Brown, Marbled Ringlet, Olive Skipper, Damon Blue and Western Brassy Ringlet, and despite spending much of my time on scree slopes relatively devoid of butterflies, I did clock up 85 species over 6 days. There were many notable absentees that had already gone over, but I have no regrets about making this trip. The scenery was as always stunning, and the butterfly action superb! Lets hope that next year's planned trips get to go ahead without further restrictions.

Breakfast this morning was slightly disappointing. I was presented with a tray containing a rather small piece of French bread, a tiny piece of toast, and one of the smallest croissants I have ever seen, along with a pot of jam (miniature of course) and a small glass of orange juice. I asked madame if I could possibly have some cheese and ham, to which I received the reply that it was "le petit dejeuner Francais". Didn't she know I had scree slopes to climb? A few moments after I had started eating, she returned with a single thin slice of ham, and presented it to me as if she was doing me the biggest of favours. I was, of course, suitably and politely appreciative!

A  very amusing description of  French hotel service at its best, heavy sarcasm of course, we have all experienced it, my wife once insisted on having fresh Bananas from a store, Madame you must have the over ripe ones first, my wife walked out, it wasn't so long ago I remember you describing the sacrifices we make in pursuit of our hobby, another to add to your list, Pete

Fantastic report, thanks for sharing Pete. Glad you manged to get away.

"one of the worst in Europe". Although I can think of several other candidates, I can see what he means. The road is too narrow along much of its length for two cars to pass, there are hardly any barriers on the drop-side to prevent you from descending, the local drivers seem to use it as a race track, and in places it feels as though the road itself is simply losing the will to remain on the mountainside and is intent on slipping down along with the scree on either side.

The road to the Col des Champs from the west side (Colmars) – is (or was) a series of hairpins. Going up, I met a wood lorry, of the type that carries virtually a whole tree, plus a trailer carrying the same. This was not a fair fight. I had to reverse down onto a postage stamp-size area right on a hairpin and watch as the lorry came down missing me by millimetres. Anyone going to the Col de Champs – take the road from the east side.

Roger Gibbons wrote: ↑Wed Aug 12, 2020 5:44 pm

"one of the worst in Europe". Although I can think of several other candidates, I can see what he means. The road is too narrow along much of its length for two cars to pass, there are hardly any barriers on the drop-side to prevent you from descending, the local drivers seem to use it as a race track, and in places it feels as though the road itself is simply losing the will to remain on the mountainside and is intent on slipping down along with the scree on either side.

The road to the Col des Champs from the west side (Colmars) – is (or was) a series of hairpins. Going up, I met a wood lorry, of the type that carries virtually a whole tree, plus a trailer carrying the same. This was not a fair fight. I had to reverse down onto a postage stamp-size area right on a hairpin and watch as the lorry came down missing me by millimetres. Anyone going to the Col de Champs – take the road from the east side.

This sort of information could probably do with a thread of its own, so the travel warnings can all be referenced in one place!

petesmith wrote: ↑Wed Aug 12, 2020 2:25 pm...Stomach still rumbling, I set off up and over the Col de la Cayolle, and was soon driving along one of my least favourite bits of road. I am not usually fazed by mountain roads, but about half way down from the Cayolle towards Barcelonette is a section of road that just gives me the creeps. It has been engineered into the side of a mountain where no road should ever have been positioned, and I get the shivers every time I drive along it.

I empathise totally, Pete. Roger warned me several years ago that this stretch was "tiresome". I have other words to describe it but after leaving your ripartii site last month, I had no option but to use this road to get to Cayolle (and then back later in the day).

It's quite an experience for a non-religious person to be literally praying for no vehicle to appear in the opposite direction for about 15km of 'roadway'. I don't think I'd ever take a minibus along that route.

As for your thread title, I definitely believe you guilty of sagesse. The only real downside to it (I suppose the folie element) is that southern France was bound to be submerged in even greater numbers of domestic tourists due to the Covid situation.

Whilst we butterflyers' haunts tend to be away from the major footfall of hikers, etc, we still have to get near enough to them to park our vehicles. Therein lies a big problem as far as France in August is concerned.

On the subject of 'haunts', I admire you for taking on those scree locations. You absolutely deserved to be rewarded with at least one scipio (probably several). It must be one of the hardest French species to see with certainty.

Good to know which butterflies are about 3 weeks after I generally leave the area. Shame pharte was not still around, but melampus is decent compensation.

David M wrote: ↑Wed Aug 12, 2020 7:12 pm Shame pharte was not still around, but melampus is decent compensation.

David - indeed! I have only ever seen melampus on a few occasions, and always as singletons, so to spend a few hours on a mountainside with several dozen flying over a relatively small area was pure joy!

selbypaul wrote: ↑Wed Aug 12, 2020 4:41 pm Fantastic report, thanks for sharing Pete. Glad you manged to get away.

Thanks Paul - looks like I just got back to the UK in time!

Roger Gibbons wrote: ↑Wed Aug 12, 2020 5:44 pm
The road to the Col des Champs from the west side (Colmars) – is (or was) a series of hairpins. Going up, I met a wood lorry, of the type that carries virtually a whole tree, plus a trailer carrying the same. This was not a fair fight. I had to reverse down onto a postage stamp-size area right on a hairpin and watch as the lorry came down missing me by millimetres. Anyone going to the Col de Champs – take the road from the east side.

Listen to Roger's sage advice on this folks! The ascent from Colmars (the west) has a whole series of lacets many of which are extremely tight, and steep, necessitating 1st gear to negotiate. They are also extremely narrow and almost blind. The only thing that has improved along this stretch of road since I first drove it is the addition of a couple of concrete barriers on the drop edge in a couple of places. Most of its length is still unprotected by any barriers at all.

The first time I took my wife out to this part of the world, we were moving from a hotel in Beuil to one in Beauvezer, via the Col des Champs. As we came over the top of the Col, we were greeted by a landslide, with a Range-rover stuck on top of a pile of scree that had recently slipped, covered and completely blocked the road. We had to turn around and take a long detour back down the Gorges de Daluis, across to Annot and then up the Verdon Valley, a detour of well over an hour and a half. The heavens opened as we navigated the Daluis gorge in a torrential downpour, with water cascading down and across the road, thunder crashing, and tremendous lightning strikes. It was a quasi-apocalyptic experience!

Personally I love driving these mountain roads. But they are certainly not without potential danger, and are not for the faint-hearted...and if you do happen to hit a road closure, there is often no easy alternative route.

The only good thing I can say about the west approach to the Col des Champs is that it is where I first saw a Poplar Admiral, on 4 July 2008. It landed on the road and for the next hour it was just the two of us, no cars, no other humans.

Another road to avoid (noting Matsukze’s suggestion) is the Col de Sarenne, to the east of Alpe d’Huez, following David M’s report. Narrow, crumbling at the edges, no verges and sheer drops. After years of aversion therapy, my wife is prepared to travel, drive even, over most mountain cols but Sarenne is on the proscribed list.

My most memorable (in the sense that therapy wouldn’t erase it) experience was not on a col, but on the road that leads to Lantosque. It was in 2008 on the way to a spot where I had seen a Southern Comma in 2007, a very rich spot as long as you made sure you were out of range of a very aggressive tethered llama. It was in an afternoon storm with torrential rain to the extent that the road became a river. It made sense to stop, as did several other French drivers (so you get the idea how bad the storm was) and it was then that I noticed a football-sized rock hurtling down the almost-vertical rock face, thankfully a distance in front of where I was stopped. It hit the road at such a speed that it actually bounced across the road, still at high speed, mercifully missing the car in front of me. Over the past decade it has been noticeable how many rock faces have been secured by giant nets.

Roger

Roger Gibbons wrote: ↑Sat Aug 15, 2020 10:31 am The only good thing I can say about the west approach to the Col des Champs is that it is where I first saw a Poplar Admiral, on 4 July 2008. It landed on the road and for the next hour it was just the two of us, no cars, no other humans.

I've still never been down that western side, Roger, which is wholly attributable to your words of caution 5 or 6 years ago. If I lived in that part of the world I'd explore these routes via a quad bike as I have seen others doing.