I much enjoyed my first visit to Farmoor Reservoir in Oxfordshire at the beginning of the year: Farmoor Reservoir – Animal Wild
I planned to return and having acquired an electric bike in the interim much looked forward to cycling round, easily covering the distance so that I could be where the birds were. Thames Water, which owns the reservoir, was not to allow me this simple, harmless pleasure.
There were a few sailing dinghies out on the water racing in small circles which I don’t understand, a lot of model boats in one spot, a couple of walkers, a few dog walkers in a special separate area and that was about it.
I was delighted by the birds I did manage to see, only cycling for very short distances at a time before more caught my eye. The path around the reservoir is as wide as a country lane. Even so as the two walkers approached and passed I stayed off the bike altogether. Having leant it against the back of a bench about half a mile round, I got down on the ground and began to take photos of Great Crested Grebes. I was aware of a Thames Water van coming in my direction so I tucked my legs in and carried on. But the van stopped right by me and I had a sense of what was to come, a truly surreal conversation. To be fair, there is no doubt that I was in the wrong. I simply hadn’t seen the sign at the entrance banning bikes, although I had seen one along the way saying “no cycling in this area” which I did partly ignore since it seemed only to apply to a small patch of land rather than the entire place. Also to be fair, the Thames Water employee was not unpleasant or rude in his manner.
“Is that your pushbike?”
The fact that it’s an electric bike was either unnoticed or irrelevant and it is still technically a push bike, there’s just not a lot of pushing involved.
“Yes, it is.”
“Riding bikes is not allowed here.”
“Oh, I see. Am I all right to cycle back to the car and then return on foot?”
“No. What part of ‘riding’ don’t you understand?”
This seemed churlish in the extreme but when I looked up the guy was at least smiling.
I smiled back. “I understand what you’re saying, I just don’t understand why?”
“It’s the rules.”
“But why?”
“It’s the fishermen. They could be casting back and they wouldn’t hear a pushbike coming. Same with the dogs. It’s the rules.”
Nor a pedestrian, I thought. I also thought that Thames Water had rather more pressing issues to be dealing with. But said neither. There were absolutely no fishermen in sight except for a few on a boat far away. None on the shore. Whom would I be endangering? The fishermen? Myself? How?
“Well, I’m only here for the birds.”
With a mystified look, “It’s the rules.”
“What a very great shame.”
I walked the bike back and put it in the car. I took twenty minutes or so to calm down before heading back home – I so despise these ridiculous, petty and pointless rules. And that the ‘rights’ of those who for some reason enjoy torturing fish take precedence over all else.
I was hugely disappointed having looked forward to this for a couple of weeks and finally found the time. I will write to Thames Water to ask them what the real reason for banning cycling is. The one given is just too silly. I have cycled the entire length of the Kennet & Avon Canal, passing countless fishermen without incident. Here they weren’t even any. And just giving me a little slack, at least letting me ride back along the deserted path and bank would have gone a long way. Of course the guy was just doing his job and that’s why I didn’t give him any backchat. But it left a bitter taste. I was in a mental space where I really needed a bit of fresh air, a natural connection, a bit of freedom from the daily routine. But it did not fit Thames Water’s agenda. In spite of the presence of bird hides the place seems to be run for fishing, windsurfing and sailing, which is fine by me, but why no space for cycling? There is simply no conflict.
In spite of all this, I was pleased to see Little Grebes – it took me a minute to realise that is who they were. I had forgotten seeing them before in Northumberland. So not a first but these were differently plumaged. And very cute.
Also a pair of Coots.
A pair of Cormorants.
Several Great Crested Grebes.
And geese whom I am not expert enough to identufy.
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The Ragwort in the garden is in seed. In spite of my repeated defences of the maligned plant I am going to pull them up today, otherwise they will take over next year.
There is beauty beyond the yellow flowers.
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I’ve been dipping into Tony Thorne’s Jolly Wicked, Actually, the 100 words that make us English, Little, Brown, 2009. I don’t much care for the title or even the concept, but it’s a good deal of etymological fun. The tone veers towards the arch. Thorne is authoritative although certainly no prude. It would be easy to accuse him of snobbery but I think his observations rise above that – indeed snobs come in for quite a pasting. Bizarrely there’s a chapter on the phrase “cellar door”, chosen as perhaps the most beautiful combination of sounds in English by none other than J.R.R. Tolkien. I share Thorne’s immunity to its charms.
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It has amused me that it has been suggested of Starmer, who now seems to be vying for the position of our most unpopular prime minister ever and polling as the most hated since the 1970s, that he has the reverse Midas touch. Digital ID cards were touted by Blair and Brown with the majority of the public in favour. Starmer thought it would be a good idea to jump on that bandwagon, at the same time thinking he would be offering a sop to putative Reform voters, as though the cards would somehow deal with the alleged “small boats” problem. Once proposed by Starmer though, support has crashed. One million people signed a petition within twelve hours which said that it “would be a step towards mass surveillance and digital control, and that no one should be forced to register with a state-controlled ID system.” There are now, at the time of writing, 2.75 million signatories. That’s a lot given that it only takes 100,000 to trigger a parliamentary debate. And it’s some 6% of those registered to vote that have actually taken the trouble to seek out the petition and sign it. Such schemes don’t have a good track record (think COVID and the farcical Track and Trace), are subject to data breaches and, anyway, how can the country possibly afford it in these straitened times? As usual, they can always find money when they want to. I think and hope they will have to abandon it.
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The Autumn/Winter 2025 RSPB magazine is here, with a lovely Redshank on the cover, although the image looks quite heavily photoshopped to me – surely unnecessary and a pity if that is the case. There’s an excellent piece on the birds by Marianne Taylor, author of a number of the RSPB’s keystone books. She’s particularly good on explaining the need for the right kind and intensity of livestock grazing to maintain a suitable environment for certain birds and the damage done by human disturbance, deliberate or otherwise. She doesn’t put that forward as a counter-argument to the campaign for the Right to Roam as others, including Mark Avery, have done to varying degrees. But that should not be a reason for abandoning the entire principle. It would never mean that anyone can go absolutely anywhere and I doubt even the most fervent campaigner for freedom of movement in our countryside and in and along our waterways, amongst whom I number myself, would insist that wildlife sites should not be protected.
Another article confirms what I happened to be saying to a friend the other day. Solar farms can, if managed in the right way, be veritable havens for wildlife. Similarly, wind turbines built in the right place need not present problems for seabirds.
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