I had a quick look at the Red-necked Grebe at Ferry Meadows this lunchtime, but it was festering away in the middle of Overton Lake and I didn't really have the time to hang around and wait for it to show any better. With a message from local birder Andy Frost suggesting that one of the two Rough-legged Buzzards was showing well at Holme Fen, on the south side of Peterborough, I headed straight down there.

Rough-legs are traditionally that sort of bird that you can spend hours looking for and never actually see particularly well, so it was nice to see both juveniles in the Holme Fen area with minimal effort, one of which showed delightfully over rough ground by the B660 – in fact, the views were probably the best I've ever had of the species in Britain. They're absolutely brilliant birds and it was really nice to enjoy prolonged views at close range and appreciate just how different the species is to Common Buzzard – not only in terms of plumage and structure, but also flight action, which is almost more akin to Red Kite, with flat wings, a 'bent' forewing at the carpal joint and the distinct tail twisting as it floated on the breeze, not to mention the characteristic hovering when hunting.

The past week has produced a big push of Caspian Gulls into eastern areas, with fantastic counts including 14 at Dungeness, Kent, thus it was no great surprise to see find one at Cromer this morning. The bird appeared pretty much instantaneously as soon as I started throwing bread, initially located by its distinctive, harsh call.

With a couple of lows and strong westerlies forecast for teachers' week, Rich Bonser and I joined Dan Pointon on Lewis, Outer Hebrides, for five days from 20-24 October, our optimism spurred on by a good arrival of American passerines from Iceland south to Scilly, including a Baltimore Oriole on nearby Barra. 

It's very much a boom or bust scenario in the Outer Hebrides in late autumn. While there's plenty of room for optimism and determination, expectations should never be set too high as there's every chance you'll go home having seen virtually nothing. As it transpired, our five days involved plenty of visits to fantastic-looking sites, a lot of pishing, a fair bit of day-dreaming ("you can just imagine an Ovenbird creeping around in here" etc) and lots of birdless hours. Plus there's the weather ... while it can be changeable, our four days of birding were largely conducted in a westerly gale with variable amounts of drizzle/rain falling. Conditions are rarely easy here at this time of year. That said, the scenery is epic and the conditions often play into its hands, making it look an even moodier and more beautiful island.

We drove up to Ullapool on the evening of Friday 19th, eventually arriving there around 6.30 am on Saturday, having left London some 10 hours previous. In the harbour, a white-winged gull proved to be a Glaucous x Herring Gull, apparently a long stayer (for a few years now) and a bird that is very much at the Glaucous end of the spectrum. It's the sort of thing that'd be easily passed off as Glauc were its chequered life history not better known.

On Lewis itself, we had a fine start at Mangersta on the morning of 21st (which, incidentally, was undoubtedly our best day for weather). As well as a Lesser Whitehroat in one of the small, isolated gardens, both Pectoral and Buff-breasted Sandpipers were quickly picked from among a small flock of European Golden Plovers. Then, a little later, the first of the trip's four Yellow-browed Warblers and a 1cy Dark-bellied Brent Goose were seen at Ardroil, as well as a Lapland Bunting at Gallan Head.

From then on, things gradually became more of a challenge, with the wind picking up, the cloud closing in and the rain beginning to fall. Our efforts were split between the Ness area, which essentially incorporates a host of small villages from South Dell and Skigersta north to the Butt of Lewis, the 'far west' (Mangersta, Ardroil and Aird Uig), Great Bernera and, finally, the west coast around Barvas and Borve. Ideally you'd need more than a single team covering the island in peak autumn – with so much cover to go at, 10 or more car-loads would be able to do this huge island a bit more justice. Despite the atrocious weather, birds were clearly still moving each day – as evidenced by the fact we were seeing different birds at the same localities on different days – and we could only wonder about what we were missing, particularly with Red-eyed Vireos and Grey-cheeked Thrush found in Iceland and further REVs in Ireland while we were up there.

In terms of common migrants, undoubtedly the most numerous was Redwing. Thousands were seen over the five days, including exhausted flocks around the lighthouse at the Butt in the howling westerly. Migration at its most epic! Other species were few and far between, with Bramblings seen in their ones and twos at most places and around 20 Chiffchaffs tallied, making that species the commonest warbler by some distance.

Just a handful of Blackcaps were seen and the Lesser Whitethroat at Mangersta certainly looked like a blythi. Surprisingly for late October, no fewer than four Willow Warblers were seen, which seems a lot given the comaparative number of Chiffchaffs. You can't help but wonder from how far east they might have come.

As mentioned previously, four Yellow-browed Warblers probably wasn't a bad result, given it's not been the best of autumns for them. Two of these were in the fantastic and extensive garden at Crulivig, which is just before the bridge over to Great Bernera. We also had a Pied Flycatcher there. Other oddities included a Treecreeper and a Great Tit up at Port of Ness.

Personally, I found that the westernmost coast was most enthralling; it's almost unnerving to imagine what must have gone undetected in the likes of Mangersta and Aird Uig over the years. Perhaps my favourite spot, though, was Croir, at the north end of Great Bernera. This is a small valley, running north to south (and thus offering shelter in even the strongest of westerlies), with a few well-vegetated gardens, including willows, sycamores, fruit trees, conifers and denser, scrubby cover. Essentially, it looks absolutely amazing (I'm not convinced it matters all that much that Great Bernera is 'set back' a bit from the coast) and I'd love to find something there one day. As it happened, the best we did this year was a Fieldfare and a couple of Chiffchaffs ...

Eventually, the incessant wind and rain, overall lack of migrants and lure of a Stejneger's Stonechat on the way back to London proved all too much, and we left Lewis on the Wednesday afternoon. Thursday brought reasonable views of the Stejneger's at Salthouse, Norfolk, where a couple of Waxwings also flew over, before it was back to the grime of London that evening.

With conditions looking promising for a decent bit of drift, I decided to head down to Dover for first thing. After missing Dante's Radde's Warbler a couple of weeks back, I've been particularly determined to get down to Langdon Cliffs as much as possible before the autumn is out in the hope of another good bird.

It felt promising around the car park early doors, with lots of birds overhead – predominately Chaffinches and Song Thrushes, but with the odd Redwing and Brambling mixed in. The bushes were alive with the sounds of Robins and Goldcrests, themselves two of the most numerous migrants of the morning (along with Song Thrush and Blackbird). The odd Chiffchaff was calling and occasional flocks of up to 20 Siskins were passing to the east.

My old local patch of Baston & Langtoft Pits really is an excellent site these days. Over the weekend I visited the pits several times and was pleased to see that the elusive Black-necked Grebe was still around, in addition to Thursday's Wood Sandpiper success. However, bird of the weekend for me was an adult Cattle Egret, which I picked up by complete chance as it flew through my 'scope on the Friday evening.

My suspicion was that it had roosted on The Ocean (where herons breed/roost), in the private part of the complex. Returning early the next morning, I saw the bird again, flying purposefully north towards the River Glen. I guessed it might be visiting a nearby sheep field, but it continued beyond that and my next assumption was that it'd be along the banks of the river itself, where cattle are grazed. After an unsuccessful couple of hours' gulling at Tanholt with Mike Weedon, I returned to the area and walked along the Glen bank eastwards from Katesbridge. After a couple of miles and a few Little Egrets, I found the cows ... and, entirely predictably, the egret was with them. It was pretty wary but a bit of careful stalking eventually produced a few decent photos. OK, so Cattle Egret is hardly the discovery it was even a few years ago, but it's still relatively scarce in Lincolnshire and was a find tick for me and also a first site record, so I was fairly content – even if it's not the most inspiring of species.

Other than the egret again leaving its roost on the Sunday, I didn't see too much else of note, although there was a Green Sandpiper, a couple of Pintail and an influx of Wigeon and Shoveler. Red-crested Pochard numbers consistently hovered at around 100.

Then, on Sunday afternoon, news broke of a White-rumped Swift at Hornsea Mere. This first for Britain lingered until it was more or less dark, so I went up with Rich and Dante for first light. Of course, the swift didn't play ball and then Hugh Wright called with news of a stint species at BLGP. For the second time this year, he'd found a Temminck's Stint on the wader pit ... argh! Thankfully it lingered and all's well that ends well, for I saw the bird during the afternoon, on my way back to London. Also present was the Wood Sand, plus a couple of Whooper Swans for good measure. It really is a fantastic place for birding now – I just wish I could watch it more often!

The autumn is rapidly advancing, seemingly bypassing me in the process. Over the past week, east coast birders have finally enjoyed some decent action, while the odd Nearctic arrival has kept those out west in the game. Due to work and an untimely bout of flu, I missed out on getting to the coast last weekend, while Rich and Dante gripped me off by finding a Radde's Warbler at Dover. It was with relief, then, that I had a morning spare today, allowing me just enough time to check my favourite spots in Peterborough.

A couple of hours sifting through the gulls at Tanholt produced three Caspian Gulls – a fine adult (I never see many of these), a well-marked third-winter and a beautiful first-winter that bore a yellow ring. The latter read P:S09, unsurprisingly rendering it Polish rather from one on of the minefield colonies in Germany, where birds more often than not look underwhelming. The views at Tanholt are good if you have a 'scope, but generally the birds are well out of range for an SLR – thus I was quite satisfied with this record shot of P:S09 as it cruised by.

I always find it challenging to tear myself away from gulls, yet I eventually did so just before midday. After getting a bit of work done, I headed down to my old patch at Baston & Langtoft Pits to see if there was anything of interest. Interest there was, albeit not in the form I had anticipated ... when you see a small wader in October, slightly larger than a Dunlin yet noticeably pale below, you'd be forgiven for thinking it might be something quite good. Naturally I was excited, then, to see such a thing careering around the wader pit. Was it going to be a Pec...? Well, no ... a distinctive burst of calls quickly identified it as a Wood Sandpiper. This is by far and away my latest ever in the Peterborough area – in fact I think by over a month! To put it into context, a quick search of the BirdGuides.com sightings database reveals that six Wood Sandpipers have been seen across Britain and Ireland since 1 October (the BLGP bird included). Compare that to 18 Pectoral and eight Buff-breasted Sandpipers. Sometimes life just isn't fair ... but I can't complain too much. The bird was a little sketchy at first but soon became accustomed to me lying in the mud and tolerated my presence to under 10 metres. The sun eventually went in and I was able to get some pleasing shots in neutral light. Confiding waders ... you can't beat them!

I headed down to Dover with Rich Bonser early on Saturday morning. Rich has adopted Langdon Cliffs as a patch and is trying to get down there as often as time allows, but productivity this September has been severely hampered by the uninspiring westerly weather conditions that have dominated throughout. As such, the breath of an easterly overnight Friday into Saturday was not something to be sniffed at and we arrived at the National Trust car park at Langdon a little after 7.30 am.

Although the wind was in the right direction, the sky was cloudless and a fall was hardly on the cards. That said, Chiffchaffs seemed to be vocal around the car park area and a handful of Meadow Pipits were moving overhead. Annoyingly a Coal Tit refused to show itself well enough to establish whether it had come from the continent – it was calling a lot and flying around restlessly yet never alighted long enough to judge plumage tones. Perhaps telling was that it was the first Coal Tit of any variety that Rich had seen here since he saw two continental birds here in October 2015. Thankfully, however, a couple of Black Redstarts proved a little more obliging ...

Curiously, one of the Black Reds was obsessively harassing another unusual visitor to the Hole – a Little Owl – which was getting a hard time from just about every other small bird in the vicinity, including several Yellowhammers and Chaffinches. Other 'oddities' included a Great Spotted Woodpecker and a Merlin flying over, plus four Jays. Rich scored singles of Firecrest and Common Whitethroat, while I had a couple of Siskins and a Swallow over, plus up to five Stonechats scattered as far as Fan Bay – although that site was otherwise disappointingly quiet.

By 11:00 the area was getting increasingly busy with grockles filing through on their way for a glimpse of Dover's famous white cliffs. With bird activity on the wane as the day became increasingly warm and sunny, we decided to leave the Hole behind for another weekend.

With very little happening anywhere in Kent, there was only one way to turn: London's gulls. We headed for Crayford, where a pleasantly gull-filled Jolly Farmers greeted us on arrival. I picked up a nice first-winter Caspian Gull almost straight away, while a presumed hybrid Caspian x Herring announced itself shortly afterwards. The latter was asleep with head tucked in when I picked it up. On the covert and tertial pattern, I called it a Casp. Then it woke up and stood up ... head/face is extremely Herring-like and, to me, it looks a middle-ground bird showing features of both species, as you'd expect a hybrid to.

Regular bouts of disturbance (travellers, fireworks, sirens and so on) made the gulls quite restless as they commuted between Jolly Farmers and the nearby lake at Bob Dunn Way. Numbers soon began to disperse as the warm afternoon allowed them to thermal up high and disappear in all directions. And so with that we decided enough was enough. A Grey Seal was seen on the river at Thamesmead during a brief stop, but that was otherwise it for notable sightings. I eventually got home about 6 pm, a full three hours after leaving Crayford ... driving in London can be utterly infuriating at times!

Quite extraordinary scenes in the Thames Estuary off Gravesend today. Late this morning, Dave Andrews sensationally found a Beluga Whale while conducting survey work by the river just east of the town. There have been a couple of recent records from Britain and Ireland, but both from coastal localities and involving brief sightings. Therefore, to read that this one was lingering and seemingly quite content with its unusual choice of location, it was impossible to ignore driving the 30 miles down the road to try and see it.

I arrived on site around 13:00 and saw the whale almost straight away. As is often the case with cetacean sightings, views were generally frustratingly brief and underwhelming as the whale surfaced, usually a few times in short succession, before it dived again, sometimes for up to 10 minutes. In fact, the 'beak' and tiny black eye of the whale were only glimpsed on a couple of occasions, although seeing its upper half was considerably easier. At first it was actually quite close in, near the Kent side, but latterly moved over towards the Essex side of the river, rendering views distant even through the telescope.

Beluga Whale is an extreme rarity in Britain, with 15 or so previous records. Most of these have involved brief sightings, often in hard-to-reach places (e.g. Shetland). Therefore one lingering at such an accessible location is a real turn up for the books and has the potential to spark a huge twitch. As for the whale's prospects, things may initially seem bleak but Belugas are well known for being estuarine species, routinely feeding in shallow waters. This one appears in good condition, with no signs that it is struggling from injury or illness. It was fascinating to learn that one survived several weeks in the River Rhine, Germany, in May 1966 (more here). So, hopefully this particular individual will be fine.

I've just uploaded a photo album from my Colombia trip in June 2017 to the Photography section of my website. Either click here to view or click on the Buff-tailed Coronet below ... 

As previously mentioned in yesterday's Irish trip summary, a point-blank juvenile Eurasian Dotterel proved the highlight of five days' birding around County Mayo. When Dave Suddaby initially texted with the news, he'd mentioned it was with a flock of European Golden Plovers and any hope of obtaining images seemed virtually non-existent. How pleasant it was, then, to turn up and find the bird on its own in a field of cows, performing to within metres ...

The bird was initially a little wary of us and at one point flew off, calling regularly, but soon returned and got used to its new cohabitants, unconcernedly feeding to within a few metres of us for the hour or so we spent with it.

The bird itself was absolutely pristine, with bright buff and peach tones to its upperparts and breast. I was intrigued by the brownish, diffuse 'barring' on the belly, something I'd not noticed before. All in all, it was a fantastic experience, hampered only by the very dull and breezy conditions, which made photography a little less straightforward than it perhaps should have been.