Thursday 19th May 2016
Today we leave the Tibetan plateau and head for one of China’s most famous national parks, Jiuzhaigou:
But first, a pre-breakfast couple of hours of birding around Zoige. We try again for Tibetan Shrike on the usual territory outside of town, but once again are without luck. There are Ruddy Shelducks on their morning flights above the plateau and small flocks of Greylag Geese following the river through town. The rufiventris Black Redstarts up here were very smart – much more orange than black in these beauties:
By the river that flows through Zoige we located our only Tiger Shrike of the trip…
… and we get better views of the local Brown-headed Gulls:
Common Terns also whipped around overhead, some gathering to perch together on the phone wires that crossed the river. Flocks of Common Terns perching on wires, something I had never seen before: 
We then headed back to our hotel, the improbably named “Le Grand Large Hotel”. We picked up our bags and began preparing for the drive south east towards Jiuzhaigou. Whilst packing our vehicle, I saw children playing in a school yard next to our hotel in Zoige:
Education in China is a long and laborious process. Each school day is far longer than the equivalent day in Europe. Educational content focuses more on repetition than on analysis. Vast swaths of information await each child, who must memorise much and analyse little. Roland noted that the Chinese symbol for a child learning, 學, resembles a child with a box for a head, ready to be filled with state-controlled data. It is not simply that the nature of the language means that that there are several thousand basic characters to learn. Education is far more political than that. The very first words a child learns at school are “I am Chinese. I love China“. The nation state is named before the individual. Contrast this with my youngest daughter’s first learnt words at nursery: “I am Yasmin“. The individual does not come first in China. The primacy of the state and therefore the Communist Party, are embedded at an early age.
The fixation with memorising information also extends to the Chinese driving test. To the visiting European it appears simply incredible that such a thing even exists. Driving in China is a vaguely organised dangerous chaos. But you can only drive in China with a licence. In the theory test there are 1000 possible questions, but each candidate is informed that only 100 will be asked. Therefore all 1000 correct answers have to be memorised. A pass is given if 90% of the questions are answered correctly. The tortuous story of a non-Chinese citizen attempting this feat, and some of the bizarre questions that can be asked, is nicely recounted here. We picked up some steamed buns for breakfast from a street vendor, said goodbye to Zoige and hit the roads of south-west China:
We crossed the south-east corner of the Tibetan plateau where fresh snowfall greeted us at the pass at 3,875m (12,700 feet): 
We then descended 400 metres and pulled up alongside a river valley filled with low shrubs and dwarf willows. There was birdsong. White-bellied Redstarts sang, European Cuckoos called and, even more surreal, an Asian Red-rumped Swallow glided overhead. Not an easy morning for an insectivore at 3,400m altitude. But we were here for something much more special: Siberian Rubythroats. They may skulk, but in early spring when pumped full of breeding hormones, they do respond to playback. You never forget the first time that you see the luminous red throat of a Siberian Rubythroat. It positively flashes out, enhanced by the white moustachial stripe and exaggerated by the overall plainness of the rest of the bird. Indeed, except for the throat area, Siberian Rubythroats are very well camouflaged: 
But it is all about that throat, a red lighthouse flashing out:
Even so, they do remain masters at keeping a branch or a leaf between any observers and themselves:
We worked our way down from the plateau, passing through villages and towns. There were a couple more stops in vegetated valleys that produced more Siberian Rubythroats plus White-throated Redstarts, Rufous-breasted Accentors and warblers: Hume’s, Alpine Leaf and Sichuan Leaf Warblers. We pass a mosque in one town reflecting our western location, historically influenced by Islam from Asia:
Over a lunchtime bowl of noodles, we were approached by this shifty looking group of men:
They secretively unfurled a bag of caterpillar fungus, visible in the carrier bag on the table in the picture above. This traditional Chinese remedy consists of a fungus whose spores kill the caterpillars of the Ghost Moth. The fungus then grows a fruiting body, a kind of tuber, from the caterpillar corpse, which itself goes on to produce more spores. It is this fruiting body which is used to “treat” ailments affecting the lungs, kidneys and for helping reduce erectile dysfunction. As Roland, Ian and I were drinking and breathing perfectly normally, I can only assume that the herb dealers thought that we looked like we required help in another department.
Caterpillar fungus is the second most expensive Chinese medicinal product after rhino horn. Had the herb dealers been offering us rhino horn, I am not sure that I would have been able to control myself. It is exactly these completely misplaced beliefs that power the poaching industry in Africa that has decimated the Rhino population. The influence of the behaviour of a country with 1.4 billion people stretches a long way. And there is a lot of blood on their hands:
By late afternoon we are on the edge of the forests that cover the valleys of this part of south-west China. We are here for another crack at Sichuan Wood Owl, following our failure at Baxi. Frustratingly we fail again. However, the steeply wooded valleys hold some pretty good birds. Singing male Himalayan Bluetail – surely the best looking member of the world’s Red-flanked Bluetail family?
Grey-headed Bullfinches are always good to see:
A (as yet unidentified) Pika rushed out onto the path in front of me. Perfect owl food: 
We ended the day in glorious sunshine in the fabulous scenery around the Jiuzhaigou National Park:
The forests held Claudia’s Leaf Warblers, our first Chinese Nuthatches and Oriental Turtle Doves. On the ground we found this lovely Chestnut Thrush:
We then drove into hell. The contrast between the lush green forests surrounding Pengfeng village and the straight-out-of-Vegas plastic fantastic tourist hell was almost physically overwhelming. The town acts as the accommodation hub for the thousands of daily visitors to the national park. We were completely unprepared for a 10km long strip of neon, hotels, bars, restaurants and tourists:
We were here for one reason and one reason only. To hear, and hopefully see, Rufous-headed Robin. This bird was the final piece in our rare Robin jigsaw. Having succeeded with Blackthroat and Firethroat on our first day we would need some serious luck to complete the rare Robin trilogy. Rufous-headed Robin is one of the world’s rarest birds. Juveniles are completely unknown and undescribed, females are virtually never seen and there is only one record of a female being photographed. In only one area on Earth tiny numbers of singing males can be found in spring: here in Jiuzhaigou National Park. Last year one male was heard on one day. Tomorrow we would find out if 2016 would be our lucky year.
Next: Jiuzhaigou National Park, the search begins…