Monday 16th May 2016
The Tibetan Plateau is vast. Stretching from western China, through Nepal into northern India it reaches Pakistan and Tajikistan in the east. It covers some 2.5 million km2, an area five times the size of France. It is the highest and largest plateau on Earth, having an average elevation of 4500m (nearly 15,000ft). It is the third largest store of ice on the planet, after Antarctica and the Arctic Ocean and is sometimes referred to as the Third Pole for this very reason. The graphic below shows land elevation over 1600m, which picks out the area of the plateau nicely:
(Copyright the author of the work and GLOBE and ETOPO1 [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons)
We visited the eastern edge of the plateau (around Hongyuan) an area of flat grassland surrounded by rolling hills. Much of the plateau is too arid to support grassland, with an average precipitation of only between 100-300mm, most of which, surprisingly, falls as hailstones. The area we visited was around 3500m above sea level. Having spent a few days ranging between 2000m and 4500m, we did not suffer symptoms of altitude sickness, even though we were sleeping higher than we had ever slept before.
Our day began with a drive north from Barkam, the road following a river valley east before we turned north to head for the plateau. This was a small river valley, with deciduous trees on the valley floor and conifers on the sloping valley sides. Even here, in a relatively remote area, human development was everywhere and increasing at alarming rates. All the major rivers have hydro-plants in China, an attempt to meet the spiraling energy demands of a rapidly growing population. This reduces the flow of water downstream. Even though the road we were on looked good, the valley we were driving up was about to get a brand new freeeway. Huge pairs of concrete pillars had been built along the valley, often in the river itself. They were awaiting the road surface which would take traffic high above the water. It was hard not to feel pessimistic about the environmental impact of this road on the valley. When completed the presence of the road, combined with associated litter that would be thrown from the vehicles, would be very destructive. Obviously the Chinese still believe in “away”. That place where rubbish can be thrown, apparently without consequence. Even when we got above the freeway construction, we turned a corner and came face to face with a scene from industrial hell. The valley was suddenly filled with white and yellow fumes. A factory belching out smoke, filling the whole valley:
This is not to say that we did not see some good birds. A Spotted Bush Warbler showed well in river-side bushes:
In true Black Redstart-like style, a small electricity compound held a lovely male Hodgson’s Redstart:
We climbed higher, to around 3200m and the valley opened up. We could enjoy ourselves again and began birding in the roadside willows on the edge of the treeline:
Eastern Great Tit. A bird with a great latin name: Parus major minor. 
There were phylloscopus warblers in the budding willows, Greenish Warbler:
The singing Dusky Warblers were nearly as elusive as the skulking autumn birds we see in the UK:
Having seen hundreds, I finally got close to a White-capped Water Redstart. They are stunning birds, velvet black throat, deep orange underparts and a glowing white cap:
We checked the river sides and found our first Godlewski’s Bunting. 10 White-browed Rosefinches fed in a ploughed field. Sichuan Leaf Warblers sang from the bushes, as did this male Slaty-backed Flycatcher, delicate in orange, grey and white:
I realised I was really enjoying birding outside of the forests. There was no waiting for hours for skulking robins and the light made photography much easier. Just before lunch we stopped at a known Ibisbill site: 
Unfortunately Chinese development had got there first. The shingle all around the traditional Ibisbill territory had been dredged for building materials. We searched upstream and down but without success. There have probably been Ibisbill nesting in this river valley for thousands of years, ice ages permitting. Now they have gone. To our knowledge no birds have been seen at this site this year.
It was time to cheer ourselves up with food. We had a traditional Chinese lunch, noodles and (Yak?) meat, with Jasmine tea. It has now been a full week since I lasted used a knife and fork, probably my longest period without cutlery since I learnt to use them as a child! 
These children were playing outside of the restaurant. They have a certain Tibetan look to them:
Post lunch things started off with a bang – a roadside Common Pheasant! Our first truly wild one. The abundance of this species in the UK, due to over 30 million birds per year being released into the wild by the shooting industry, meant that we did not linger long over it. Note the lack of a white neck collar on the Sichuan birds:
The willows by the road held more warblers, mostly Hume’s Warblers (below), but with glimpses of birds that looked good for Arctic and Eastern Crowned Warblers. 
We then climbed up onto the plateau proper, to the treeline:
With more open habitat, raptors began to appear. There were lots of distant Himalayan Griffon Vultures, but this juvenile Lammergeier flew right overhead. As it passed I noted that it was the tattiest Lammergeier I have ever seen. On inspection of my pictures I changed my opinion: perhaps it was simply just the luckiest. That hole in the bird’s right wing is the result of a gunshot, not feather moult:
A more pristine Black-eared Kite:
There then came two psychedelic bundles of colour. The first, the marvelous White-browed Tit Warbler:
The second a hitch-hiking Tibetan monk. We gently refused his request for a lift, as we were not going anywhere quickly. We were then pleased to see him overtake us on the back of a motorbike a few minutes later:
White-browed Tits were charismatic residents at the edge of the treeline:
Below,Ian and Roland survey the last of the trees before we drive across the plateau. Here Ian picked out an Oriental White-eye in a flock of Buff-barred Warblers, a ridiculously northern record for such a tropical species. A genuine vagrant or the product of the Chinese tradition of releasing birds for luck? Luck for whom one wonders?
Our first impressions of the Tibetan plateau were of flat grassland, backed by hills. The section of the road nearest the edge has a number of “tea houses”, tents to you and I, where tourists can spend money on tea, horse rides and can photograph the traditional Tibetan bunting (paper, not bird) covered poles.
To us, the birds not the bunting, were immediately more eye catching. The grazed turf held large flocks of Red-billed Chough and Daurian Jackdaws:
There were Azure-winged Magpies perched in distant bushes, Eurasian Cuckoos and Oriental Skylarks filled the air with song while Black-eared Kites wheeled over feeding Ruddy Shelducks:
It was at this point that we were pulled over by an unmarked Chinese police car:
Whilst some of us in the car thought that being arrested for photographing Ruddy Shelducks was a clear case of police harassment, I disagreed. You simply never know where those ruddy ducks have come from or have been. Roland’s fluent Chinese reassured the police officers that we were simply mad westerners looking at birds and we were free to continue on our eccentric way. The day ended in late afternoon rain watching Black-necked Cranes and oh, sorry officer, the autofocus has picked out the Ruddy Shelduck again…
… and quite simply the best wagtail in the world. Some call it Tibetan Wagtail. Some prefer the calcarata subspecies of Citrine Wagtail. It doesn’t matter. It is simply a ball of luminous yellow and black and was fabulous to see:
Next: Eagles, Snowfinches and Accentors on the plateau.