During the story I get selected for a BBC documentary called " A very British Obsession" and formed a successful WhatsApp group called “Casual Twitchers”. To be honest, there are a handful of very interesting, well-written recollections of specific twitches which are, to a birder like myself, informative and eminently readable, noted for their style and appreciation of the well-written word. Alas, NONE of these pieces have been written by the author. Innuendo and/or explicit images were also a mainstay of the Carry On and Confessions of movies that were popular in the 1980s and before. But mostly, and overwhelmingly, this is a book about twitching – the fieldsport of rushing around trying to see rare birds to add to your lifelong list of wild birds seen in Britain and Ireland. Like most sports, twitching will seem entirely pointless to the vast majority of people. Who cares that Scotland beat England at rugby recently? Quite a few, including me. And who cares that Garry Bagnell has seen 553 bird species in Britain and Ireland (which puts him way behind Steve Gantlett on an estimated 590 species)? Quite a few people and they are mostly men. Do I care? Not deeply, but I am certainly interested in this book because it is a very clear description of the fieldsport of twitching from the viewpoint of a keen exponent. If you’ve done something really, really bad and you wish to atone for your sins there are several things you can do: you could wear a hair shirt for a month, you could walk naked through Canterbury on a market day whilst self-flagellating and proclaiming your sins or you could read this book. In retrospect I think I would have preferred to have suffered the walk of shame, at least that would have been a more interesting way to spend my time.

Twitching by numbers: Twenty-four years of chasing rare birds

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In other countries, the world of birdwatching may be a largely gentle place ruled by calm, binocular-toting souls who patiently wait for their reward. But in Britain, it can be a truly savage domain, a nest of intrigue, fierce rivalries and legal disputes. Fluttering somewhere between sport and passion, it can leave in its path a grim tableau of ruined marriages, traffic chaos and pride, both wounded and stoked. Perhaps he ought to publish two editions - the revised sanitised version and the original, the latter to contain a warning on the cover that some of its content may cause offence to certain readers.

Garry Bagnell – Mark Avery Twitching by Numbers by Garry Bagnell – Mark Avery

Just before Christmas, Garry Bagnell published Twitching by numbers: Twenty-four years of chasing rare birds around Britain and Ireland. In the wake of the uproar, Mr Bagnell (55), an accountant, of Southwater in West Sussex, has both apologised for any upset he has caused and indicated that he now intends to rewrite his book, self-censoring the sections that have caused such offence.The cover? Gives a good idea of what the book contains. The book is illustrated by the author and, although infinitely better than I could do myself, the illustrations are all quite good, but not tip top. The Ovenbird gives a fair idea of the quality of illustrations. I’d give it 6/10. The book takes you through the various twitching adventures in the British Isles and aspects of my private life. Webb is known to drop his grocer's apron to chase a rare bird and claims to have broken Evans's record in 2000. Evans – a polarising figure on the birding circuit – does not recognise Webb's claim to the title.

Washington Post In Britain, bird-watching gone wild - The Washington Post

Any author who deviates from what is considered decorous and appropriate enjoys no licence - he (or she) risks being singled out and pilloried with opprobrium. Many see twitching as an outcrop of the British fascination with "spotting" things – most notoriously, trainspotting, a hobby that involves the obsessive pursuit of seeing as many locomotives with your own eyes as humanly possible. But others say it may simply be a case of boys who refuse to grow up. However principally, and overwhelmingly, it is a e-book about twitching – the fieldsport of speeding round attempting to see uncommon birds so as to add to your lifelong record of untamed birds seen in Britain and Eire. Like most sports activities, twitching will appear completely pointless to the overwhelming majority of individuals. Who cares that Scotland beat England at rugby just lately? Fairly a couple of, together with me. And who cares that Garry Bagnell has seen 553 hen species in Britain and Eire (which places him approach behind Steve Gantlett on an estimated 590 species)? Fairly a couple of folks and they’re principally males. Do I care? Not deeply, however I’m definitely on this e-book as a result of it’s a very clear description of the fieldsport of twitching from the perspective of a eager exponent. A smartphone app to help British birders is being advertised as an essential tool when "there have even been recent cases of violent clashes between bird watchers as people desperately try to get the very best spots". I had never heard of a foam party until I read this book – maybe I should get out more, or maybe not.This was my first book and I didn't expect to get complaints about my single life between 2000 to 2002 (Chapter 2 to 4). I decided to remove the offending passages and rewrite these early years and republish as "Twitching by numbers: A birder's hectic life as he chases rare species across Britain and Ireland". The most unfortunate twitchers race many kilometres to spot a bird only to find that their flighty subjects have flown off – a bummer known in the twitching world as a "dip". One of the most infamous dips came as Webb pursued a long-tailed shrike in the Outer Hebrides off mainland Scotland. The boat he and 12 others had hired died in choppy waters, forcing a daring rescue by Her Majesty's Coastguard. "We were worried for our lives for a bit, but we were more worried about not seeing this bird," he said. The desk close to the again of this e-book which lists the High 10 listers in Britain and Eire in 1987 and now (two names seem in each lists) is fascinating. You’d have been on the prime of the record in 1987, apart Ron Johns, in the event you had seen a paltry (I jest!) 463 species whereas now Steve Gantlett’s estimated 590 species leads all of them. Twitching is a lifetime marathon and because the writer factors out you’ll must spend 4 a long time at it, and pretty obsessively at it, to face any probability of a prime 10 rating. All of the names within the two lists are males – who may have guessed?

Garry Bagnell - Facebook Garry Bagnell - Facebook

I had by no means heard of a foam get together till I learn this e-book – perhaps I ought to get out extra, or perhaps not. A term coined in the 1960s to describe the jaw-rattling sound of chasing after rare birds on rumbling motorbikes, "twitchers" are narrowly defined as bird-watchers willing to drop everything to chase a sighting. More broadly, it includes those who see a bird within a few days of an urgent bulletin.Twitching by Numbers: twenty-four years of chasing uncommon birds round Britain and Eire by Garry Bagnell is self printed. The story starts in 1999 just after my 32nd Birthday and I've just ended my 18-year love affair with watching private jets around the world.