Late April is an exciting time to go looking for reptiles and bugs; spring is in full swing, new life is becoming established and is as-yet-unaffected by the summer heat. For those unlucky people who also suffer from the seasonal blues, this time of year represents a final shrugging-off of winter and a welcoming in of the happier season.
Lefkada promised an interesting reptile fauna and a few tantalising resources covering invertebrate groups (e.g. in some of the caves), noticeably less covered than the other Ionian islands. With only a limited number of shieldbug records and no mention on the the 2019 Greek pentatomoidea checklist, the chance of seeing something new and unexpected was high.
The island is also known as Lefkas, Leukas, and Leucadia, named for the white rocks at its southern cape; from Greek lefkos (white) – which is where we get the phrase ‘leucistic’ from to describe white animals, via the Latin version ‘leuco’. Steeped in archaeology and history, Lefkada has been claimed as the real-life inspiration for Homer’s Ithaca, said to be because it was described as ‘an island reachable by foot’ - it is connected to the mainland by a causeway. We stayed in the west of the island, at Agios Nikitas.
We arrived incredibly late, welcomed to the uniquely uncomfortable procedure of renting a car by a beautiful chorus of tree-frogs. When we eventually arrived at our accommodation, avoiding the occasional stray cat, we hit the bed and were asleep within minutes.
DAY 1 – MELISSA GORGE
The next morning was grey and overcast, promising rain, and quite chilly.
Firstly, we took a couple of hours to just walk around the area we were staying in, to get a feel for the local flora and fauna. We found, with the changeable temperatures at this time of year, that Lefkada is an island where you have to really have to put in the effort to reap the reward. The patches of sunlight that allowed some warmth to penetrate down to the flowerheads were waking up sleepy bees and beetles, mostly Oxythyrea sp. chafers and Oedemera sp. flower beetles, some of whom were getting quite frisky in the sun-trapped flowers. Tom discovered the first of many Eulasia pareyssei, a wonderfully striking little chafer with slightly reduced wing-cases.
Above: Oxythyrea, Oedemera, Eulasia and Large Wall Brown (Lasiommata maera)
We investigated up a scrubby path where some butterflies were beginning to fly about. Dainty Wood Whites (Leptidea sinapis) flitted between the shrubs, their wings much smaller and narrower than the similarly-sized but more familiar Small and Green-veined Whites.
Above: Wood Whites
Above: Pachyiulus apfelbecki, Anthaxia discicollis, scrub habitat, Green Underside Blue (Glaucopsyche alexis), Anthaxia hungarica, broomrapes, Omophlus sp. and Mylabris quadripunctata.
Close to one of the roadsides, Tom pointed me in the direction of a flower hosting a Bee Beetle (Trichodes sp.), decked out in iridescent blues and vibrant reds. As I passed a heap of stones which were drowning in verdant wildflowers there was a sharp rustle, a distinctive slithering and crashing noise as something (which had noticed us before we had noticed it) attempted to make an escape through the vegetation. It was a reptile without a doubt, but it didn’t seem to slither as smoothly as a snake would, yet it was far too large to be many of the island’s lizards – except for one. The European Glass Lizard or Sheltopusik (Pseudopus apodus) was a species I had been hoping to see, and I was fairly sure that one of these was the culprit behind the mystery noise. We would have to wait and see.
While I was trying to photograph the Trichodes, a shape underneath the vegetation behind it caught my eye, quickly taking the form of a beautiful female Hermann’s Tortoise (Testudo hermanni), relaxing as the day warmed up. She was looking at us with a benign sort of expression, only half interested, and she seemed quite unbothered by our presence. A quick shot of her shell, camouflaged behind the leaves, was all I managed to get without disturbing her.
In the afternoon we headed to Melissa Gorge, Sfakiotes, a scenic trail around some mostly dry riverbeds which boasted lush vegetation and a TripAdvisor review that deducted a star for ‘too many snakes and spiders’.
Up in the hills, the gorge was a very different habitat; the air was cool and moist, and coniferous forests of pine and cypress were interspersed with olive groves and wildflower meadows bursting with the vibrant reds, whites, pinks and yellows of poppies, daisies, orchids, convolvulus and buttercups, as well as innumerable other plants, many of which I fear I won’t ever be able to put a name to.
I had seen from other Mediterranean wildlife reports that everything was about two weeks early in southern Europe this year, and it seemed to be the same on Lefkada too – the remains of many orchids which had already gone over were obvious at the pathside, including the heavyweight Giant Orchids (Himantoglossum robertianum) which must have been spectacular when in flower. Nonetheless, we found many beautiful Anacampsis, several species of Ophrys, and Tom was elated to find a wonderful Serapias.
Above: Tongue orchid (Serapias sp.) and various Ophrys
The meadows which punctuated the forested hills were full of life. Bumblebee-sized beeflies whirred about and bees of every design were filling the air with noisy humming. Butterflies, including Clouded Yellow, Small Heath, and several different blues, abounded on the flowers, while Harvester Ants (Messor sp.) worked busily below, moving and storing plant parts. We found several beautiful hairy Pygopleurus sp. chafers on poppies.
Above: Pygopleurus sp.
The meadows looked particularly suitable for scorpions, and having already encountered some large centipedes (Scolopendra cingulata) underneath some of the rocks we had turned, I proceeded with caution. This was the correct form, as I soon found the scrub-loving scorpion Agaeobuthus gibbosus, in contrast to the damp and cool-loving Euscorpius which were underneath rocks in the forest.
Above: Agaeobuthus gibbosus and Euscorpius sp.
Above: Scolopendra cingulata
Of the spiders which inhabited the gorge, the most common were Pisauria mirabilis, the Nursery-web Spider. This was followed by numerous salticids, some shiny and fat, others dark and sleek, and the ubiquitous Hogna radiata. One species stood out because from a distance it looked very like a velvet ant – another salticid, Cyrba algerina. These pretty jumpers prey on other spiders, deliberately enticing them out into the middle of their webs by vibrating the threads before catching and consuming the architect. The mutillid mimicry was very good, although I haven’t seen it mentioned anywhere else yet.
Above: Cyrba algerina
Under a large flat rock, I disturbed a spider’s web which made a rather horrible papery tearing noise as it became dislodged from its moorings. Spider lover though I am, I was a little unnerved by this web, which took up a lot of space under the rock and was made of thick, inflexible, flat-woven thread which made the occupant inside impossible to see. I put the rock back, thinking that whatever had made the web probably wouldn’t be worth trying to tease out with a grass stalk. How very wrong I was!
A few rocks later I disturbed another of these webs, this time a very fresh one with the creator still inside. It was one of those pivotal moments where an animal that the viewer has only ever been described in books simply walks off the page and into reality, stunningly executed. Eresus walkenaeri! The female whose papery web I had disturbed was huge, significantly bigger than I had ever imagined them being, and clad in what seemed to be luxurious black velvet. Her abdomen was beautifully freckled with grey. Rarely can a spider be described as having mammalian qualities, but the phrase ‘teddy bear’ seemed very apt for such a chubby, friendly-looking creature. I was enchanted.
Above: Nursery Web Spider, Small Heath, Conemenos' Slug (Limax conemenosi), Speckled Wood, Corfu Lindholm's Snail (Lindholmiola corcyrensis), House Gecko, Eresus.
DAY 2 – RADAR STATION
We headed straight out to the abandoned radar station in the vague hope of finding viper habitat. The habitat looked spot on, but it was quite cold, and life was thin on the ground. A few tenebrionids, a scorpion, plenty of large millipedes.
The telecommunications base was completed in 1965 by the Americans, at the height of the Cold War, and was once used for communication between Mediterranean NATO bases. According to this resource, the large dishes were used for tropospheric scatter, sending out high powered radio waves and bouncing them off the troposphere. The two pairs of antennae face in opposite directions: one to send, one to receive. The position on almost the highest point of the island (on the highest mountain, Agios Donatos) was a strategic one, but since the eventual abandonment of the site beginning in the late 1980s, the station has stood in starkly brutalistic contrast with the most beautiful, panoramic view of the island and surrounding coastline.
Several pairs of Jackdaws (Corvus monedula soemmerringii) with beautiful white collars were using the concave faces of the antenna to bounce their calls off. One would sit at one end, while the other would fly calling across the face of the disc, presumably deriving great satisfaction from the enhanced noise. We drove a little further down the hill and started rolling rocks. We discovered a pit full of many long-dead sheep, which set us walking in the other direction instead. There were some new orchids about, including several more Ophrys, more scorpions, and an up-close view of a beautiful baby Lacerta trilineata.
Above: Ophrys (the third specimen is O. helenae), baby Scolopendra cingulata, Lacerta trilineata.
On the way down we made two more roadside stops, the first of which was still quite close to the radar station. We spent several hours at this site, walking up and down old terraces rolling rocks and taking in the wildflowers. I focused my attention on a decaying wooden palette and then the surrounding stones and vegetation; the weather started to warm up, and the air slowly began to buzz with life again. My first discovery was another female Eresus which dwarfed yesterday’s individual. Her plush abdomen was the size of a small grape, and the details of her broad, flat head and glittering black eyes could be seen with the naked eye. The rock she was under was quite big, so I had to move her out of the way in order to put it back down again; she was reluctant to move, preferring to stay in her hole or pretend that I wasn’t there, but when I eventually persuaded her to move she fitted snugly in the palm of my gloved hand, and didn’t move while we subjected her to a few photos. When I put her down, a small way from her rock, she knew the way back to her web exactly, and slowly slid underneath the edge of the stone and out of sight.
A short while later, I spotted something I didn't recognise. It was an arachnid about a centimetre long, reminiscent of a baby scorpion without pincers and tail, and clearly freshly moulted. The white one caught my eye so much that I nearly missed the normal-looking ones behind it. I recognised them, but wasn't sure if they were huge mites, smallish harvestmen, or something else. I didn't find out what it was until later; a harvestman, family Trogulidae.
Our second brief roadside stop was near the village of Chortata. Tom saw a Greek Slowworm (Anguis graeca), but it disappeared down a hole before he was able to grab it – a shame, as we were later to find out that there had been only a few sporadic records of this species on the island since the late 1800s. I photographed a Scarce Swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius).
Finally, I got out of the car on the way back to our hotel and went to check out our proposed Sheltopusik spot, to see if the hunch about the mystery noise was correct. The sudden warmth of the sun made for a totally different environment in the verge, and on the brassicas sprouting from the gravel were several species of shieldbug (Nezara viridula, Carpocoris mediterraneus, Eurydema ornata) and a hairy chafer (Tropinota sp.). In the grasses next to these were more chafers (Anisoplia?) and a big elaterid, Lacon punctatus.
Above: Carpocoris mediterraneus, Eurydema ornata, Lacon punctatus, Anisoplia, Tropinota, and Nezara viridula, one of which is sporting two parasitic tachinid eggs.
Behind this, in the middle of the bramble patch, was what at first seemed to be a length of abandoned pipe, but which slowly came into focus as the dark, ringed body of the Sheltopusik, basking semi-hidden under the vegetation. His pale, distrustful eyes were set in a huge beige-coloured head, while his body faded rapidly into chestnut and almost ebony hues down its length, which must have been three feet or so. He was languidly stretched out, enjoying the afternoon sun.
What a creature of magnificence! What a beautiful territory he shared with his tortoise friend! I didn’t even entertain the notion of trying to catch him. Quite aside from the fact that in his territory of brambles it would be impossible, it seemed almost disrespectful to try; after all, those intelligent eyes had clearly been watching me since I arrived a quarter of an hour previously, and he had allowed me to admire him from this distance. That this was on his permission I had no doubt, for when I turned around and snagged my shoe on a bramble vine, he melted away into the vegetation without so much as a sound.
DAY 3 – NYDRI
We drove to Nydri, where Tom chased up some woodlouse records and I was keen on checking out the road verges in order to find some bugs. We also had a walk around the port town itself, which offers views of the islands Madouri and Sparti, with Skorpios in the background.
However scenic the vistas from the harbour were, the views from the overgrown roadsides were sweeter – overflowing with yellow and green grasses, white umbellifers, yellow sow-thistles and brassicas, the occasional red flash of a poppy, clovers, vetches, brambles, Aristolochia, and more. The occasional downpour made the vegetation and tarmac smell rich and earthy, and the highly-scented garden flowers sing. The rain had been a constant feature during the week, but these later showers were impregnated with Saharan dust, which coated everything in a fine orange powder; every tree and bush, every car was covered, and the roads seemed to have been powdered with rust. Even the sky had a hazy, yellowish look. Our car started to look like it had been used in a Top Gear special.
The incredibly humid and muggy weather brought out the insects in numbers. Butterflies and bees were on the wing again, while the bugs and beetles started to emerge on the flowerheads. I stopped to investigate some galiums and found myself among a swarm of Round-mouthed Snails (Pomatias elegans) which had all come out into the road to feast on the dried leaves during the rainstorms. I had never seen so many in one place before.
Underneath a small stone by the side of the road Tom found a beautiful and absolutely enormous Carabus coriaceus.
On the plant itself (Stickyweed – Galium aparine) it didn’t take long before we started turning up White-shouldered Shieldbugs (Dyroderes umbraculatus) which were numerous among the plants. For a species which has only a few sites in the UK (and is considered a rarity) it was a treat to be able to see so many.
Other insects of the roadside included Eurygaster maura, Macroscytus brunneus, Calocoris nemoralis, Valgus hemipterus and the caterpillar of the Southern Festoon (Zerynthia polyxena). The foodplant of this butterfly is various species of Aristolochia, of which A. sempervirens was commonly seen growing up fences in scrubby areas.
Above: Dyroderes umbraculatus, Valgus hemipterus, Calocoris nemoralis, Blue-throated Keeled Lizard (Algyroides nigropunctatus), Cretan Seed Bug (Lygaeus creticus), Southern Festoon caterpillar, Aristolochia sempervirens, Eurygaster maura, Macroscytus brunneus.
DAY 4 – SYVROS & KAROUCHA CAVE
Despite limestone-based geology, caves are somewhat difficult to come across on Lefkada, and finding ones which may be accessible for a day trip can be quite tricky. We managed to find Karoucha cave, near Syvros, a mountainside village surrounded by awe-inspiring landscapes, scrub and scree slopes. This became a road trip around the southern half of the island, making many stops on the way. I was still vaguely hoping to see vipers, but had miscalculated the weather – the dust haze and rain showers had cleared, and the sun had been blazing down for a while despite an early start.
Our first roadside stop proved fruitful, with a new shieldbug species – numerous Stagonomus amoenus, feeding on a sage plant. Staria lunata and Graphosoma italicum followed, the latter still covered in spots of sahara dust. A snake whipped up into the leaf litter from the verge, offering only a glimpse of brownish grey. Better than nothing!
Above: Staria lunata, Graphosoma italicum, Stagonomus amoenus.
It was immediately noticeable that the southern portion of the island contained a different mixture of flora and fauna; a lot of insects here we found nowhere else. We parked the car a few hundred metres from the cave and walked the stony track, past a couple of good-natured barking dogs and many chickens with shiny copper plumage foraging in the ditches. Plump, chestnut-coloured chafers of the genus Anisoplia hung from the grass stalks.
Numerous Cleopatra butterflies (Gonepteryx cleopatra), skippers, and Southern Swallowtails (Papilio alexanor) flitted around the flowerheads in a mellow, carefree manner, punctuated by the purposeful, straight line flight pattern of Southern White Admirals (Limenitis reducta) patrolling their territories between the trees.
Above: Southern Swallowtail
Longhorns, including Stenurella septempunctata, Paracorymbia pallens, and the uncommon Purpuricenus kaehleri, could be readily seen on the flowers and in the low bushes.
Above: Purpuricenus kaehleri, Stenurella septempunctata, Paracorymbia pallens.
Karoucha is not a cave you can really enter or explore. To get to the cave mouth is a short climb through vegetation and over some boulders, and at the back behind an enormous fig tree is a small drop-down into a very small chamber which hardly exceeds six feet in width. However, several more entrances to what seemed to be larger tunnels or chambers were visible from the mouth, elevated from ground level by perhaps ten feet or so. The lower of these I felt I definitely could have climbed into, but the obvious safety risks and bats (among other things) were more than enough of a deterrent. Those chambers are for cavers only!
We spent about two and a half hours around the area, slowly picking our way around the paths and plants, rolling the rocks, and checking around rubble piles and olive trees. We found several Odontotarsus robustus, with their unique and aptly shield-like shape, and the outer shell of a Ventocoris rusticus in a Cataglyphis ants’ nest (one of my dream species to see – pity it was dead!).
Above: the cave, Graphosoma semipunctatum, Carpocoris mediterraneus, skipper, Eastern Dappled White, Odontotarsus robustus.
On the road, I found a nymph of the Spiny Shieldbug (Mustha spinulosa), which has to be Europe's largest shieldbug. This one wasn't fully grown yet and still dwarfed every other shieldbug I had ever seen.
We then tried to drive up to the top of the mountain, but an extremely narrow road blocked us from doing so; in the end, we drove the scenic route back around the island towards Nydri, stopping along the way. One of these stops was just to explore a sheltered area under some trees, where the shade was nice and cool and sunlight dappled some of the understorey vegetation. On the lookout for snakes, I heard something move in the undergrowth; I froze and waited, but nothing emerged. It was only after we started searching in the vegetation that Tom discovered who the culprit was, hiding in plain sight – a Marginated Tortoise (Testudo marginata). A beautiful female, with the peculiarly elongated shell typical of the species; flattened on both flanks, with a heavily curved upperside and then flared at the back end, like a curious bell. I checked her for ticks (she had none, and was in perfect health), and she good-naturedly tolerated a few photos before we put her back in the exact spot she was found in, where she trundled slowly off into the vegetation to continue her day.
DAY 5 – NYDRI WATERFALLS & CHOIROSPILIA CAVE
It rained quite heavily during the night, washing away the majority of the Saharan dust. It was still cool from the wet morning as we left, and the lizards were only just beginning to warm up. I was sad to see a medium-sized Sheltopusik dead in the road as we were leaving. There was some minimal damage to the head (which could have been from the crow who was picking at it) but otherwise it seemed in good condition – I hoped that it was a predator or an accident with a car rather than a deliberate action from a human being. Sheltopusiks lack the flexible stomach musculature that snakes have and are unable to move as efficiently over flat surfaces, which means that they fairly often fall victim to road accidents. They are at their best in matrices of vegetation and brush, which give their smooth, cylindrical bodies much better purchase. This individual was smaller than the big male I had seen the other day; clearly there is a population of them in the area.
In a sunny patch through some trees I noticed a familiar shape – a slow worm. As records from the area are scant and he was in a precarious position for escape, I picked him up for a couple of photos and noticed that not only was he absolutely enormous (nearing 30cm) with a full tail, he also had beautiful blue spots.
Nydri waterfalls (also called Dimosari waterfalls) are a series of relatively small waterfalls located in a limestone gorge outside the town. There is parking quite close to the site, or it can be walked from further away in the olive groves or from Nydri itself. Despite the rain, the gorge itself had little flowing water, although the falls themselves were fairly active.
We saw a beautiful Green Toad (Bufotes viridis) sheltering in a cool damp area, anticipating the midday sun, and plenty of green frogs (Pelophylax kurtmuelleri, sometimes synonomised with P. ridibundus) of all different sizes. In the plunge pools themselves, we found the impressive freshwater crab Potamon fluviatile, with some very large individuals out and about feeding in the pools, the size of normal Shore Crabs.
After we had been to the falls, we drove back around the mountain to the more southerly location of Evgiros, a small, narrow town close to the coast. Here we were hoping to find Choirospilia (‘pig cave’), a historical and mythological cave considered the pigsty of Eumaeus, the trusted shepherd raised alongside Odysseus. The location of this cave had been difficult to find, as nobody had put it very accurately on the map before, but a stroke of luck before we arrived meant that we could now pinpoint it, down a winding sandy track that cuts down the slope from the top of the road.
Above: a beautiful Cucullia blattariae caterpillar.
The cave had a wide entrance, and had at one point been fenced off, although the gate was now jammed open. Inside had once been a medium-sized limestone cavern, although it was less cavernous nowadays since the ceiling had fallen through in a few places, providing light throughout. We didn’t manage to find any cave-dwellers. I found a Garden Centre Spider (Uloborus plumipes) by the entrance, the first time I’d ever seen one outdoors in a natural setting.
DAY 6 – MOUNTAINS
On the last full day we decided to go for a drive up to the mountains to locate a small cave near Egklouvi, which Tom knew of from one speleological report from nearly a century ago. Based on this single report, we walked and semi-climbed a dry river gorge full of rubbish as far up as we could go, finding only a couple of small slot holes and nothing else. The pin location on the report was vague, so we deviated from the gorge and ended up on what seemed to be an abandoned terrace, half of which was completely grown over with moss and pine needles, opening out into a rocky scrubby aspect at the top. A large rock had another couple of small holes in, but there was no sign of a cave entrance. We concluded that either we had looked in the wrong place (or the stated location was not exact) or that in the past century various rockfalls and vegetation or rockslides had buried the original entrance. The mystery remains.
We decided that we could drive back down a different way and stop where we felt looked promising en route. This was the day of the birds; wheatears, whitethroats, Sardinian Warbler (Sylvia melanocephala), and almost unbelievably yellow Golden Orioles (Oriolus oriolus) were out and about. A short stop near a small cemetery produced a young Four-lined Snake (Elaphe quatuorlineata) which quickly slipped through an almost invisible crack in a wall when it noticed me.
Above: the histerid Margarinotus graecus, a tenebrionid beetle of the Cephalostenus genus, and juvenile Four-lined Snake.
We then stopped at the side of the road near a rubble site, with piles of broken tiles, wooden planks, and torn bits of plastic sheeting laying about. As we parked, we were discussing the reptiles and amphibians we hadn't seen yet. In some dung were a couple of nice histerids and a dung beetle of the genus Onthophagus, but not a lot else. However, just before we were about to leave, I found a heavy piece of wet plastic and turned it; something caught my eye. A glint of pearly pink – to amuse myself, I thought I’d make absolutely sure that it was a worm to satisfy my curiosity. Fate (or one of the local saints) certainly has a sense of humour, for as soon as I touched it I knew what it was: the very creature we had been talking about as we pulled over, a Worm Snake (Xerotyphlops vermicularis). These small fossorial snakes do look almost identical to worms at a glance, living underground and eating small insects and their larvae. Their eyes are greatly reduced to two small light-sensitive spots, and their smooth scales and blunt, shovel-like head are perfect for wiggling about under the substrate. This one was highly uncooperative and it was only with some difficulty that we managed to get a picture at all. I didn’t realise until I read back through the herpetological publication that there were very few records of this species here, although their self-effacing habits are probably mostly to blame. It was a lovely little beast, and I wondered whether I’d seen one already among the many worms I had found (and dismissed) underneath various pieces of wood and tyres.
DAY 7 – MAINLAND
Our flight was in the late evening, so we had a full day in which to explore before we needed to be anywhere. We decided to stay within the vicinity (so to speak) and spent some time driving down the mainland coast towards Mytikas, stopping along the way. Not necessarily expecting much, I charged my camera battery for an hour or so and left it at that.
We had to stop briefly as a crow flew up onto the road barrier, holding a large snake in its beak. I deprived it of its breakfast temporarily while I identified the snake as a Balkan Whip Snake (Hierophis gemonensis) and concluded that it had probably been incapacitated by a car, but possibly finished off by the bird – one beak hole through the top of the head. Perhaps it was just making absolutely sure that the snake was dead. It was sad to see road-killed reptiles, sometimes in a very grim state, but made more tolerable by the fact that the crows never seemed to miss a thing here. Anything not taken by the birds would be cleaned up by the ants and beetles.
It was the hottest day so far, and a wall of dry heat hit us as we pulled up and opened the doors at a roadside pull-in, where some goats had recently been. Evidence of goats was plentiful, and their entourage was already getting to work– more dung beetles than I have ever seen in one place. Aphodines, Onthophagus, Cheironitis (interesting in that this genus was incredibly common, yet seems very underrecorded) and the huge, impressive Scarabaeus variolosus. Some were already hard at work with beautifully spherical balls of dung, pushing and pulling both singly and in pairs. I had to rescue one from the road – better terrain for rolling, but far more risky!
Above: Balkan Whip Snake, Cheironitis sp., Scarabaeus variolosus.
Between the rocks underneath the olive trees, a predator was prowling – Lycosa praegrandis, a colossal wolf spider with powder grey legs and two black stripes along the cephalothorax, encircling two shiny forward-facing eyes. Clearly an active hunter, I found another halfway up a bush where about fifteen Mammoth Wasps (Megascolia maculata) were taking nectar. She seemed plump enough, but was clearly wondering whether a nice Megascolia would be worth the trouble for a decent meal.
Above: Lycosa praegrandis
Above: Megascolia maculata male and female, Libelloides lacteus, Lycosa praegrandis, Steatoda paykulliana with eggsac and babies.
Owlflies (Libelloides lacteus) fluttered fairy-like through the grasses as we walked, settling daintily on flowerheads and grass stalks. A huge, impressive Black-veined White (Aporia crataegi) alighted briefly on a thistle, then took off again, presumably after seeing my jaw drop. Tom called me over for another spider underneath a rock, an admittedly rather sinister-looking Mediterranean Recluse (Loxosceles rufescens), one of Europe’s only medically significant spiders. He or she sat unmoving for pictures, comfortable in a little depression under the rock, until we gently replaced it. A quick stop with the binoculars at a small lake produced a lot of terrapins, although only one swimming below me was identifiable as the Balkan Terrapin (Mauremys rivulata). Two new shieldbugs for the trip, the common Codophila varia (reddish form) and several small dirt-covered Odontoscelis sp. rounded things off quite nicely.
Above: Mediterranean Recluse, Maccevethus corsicus, Rhynocoris iracundus, Codophila varia, Odontoscelis sp., Eurydema ornata, Ceraleptus lugens (a rare species!), and Sisyphus schafferi(?).
On the way back, the sat nav got slightly confused as to where the car rental place was, mostly owing to the new road layouts, so we were forced to go through the toll booth and into Preveza itself, where we made a quick stop for a cool-down at a beach. A little too hot and in need of a good meal, we had a small wander for ten minutes or so before heading back to the car. We stopped to check one final patch of Nigella damascena, and just like magic, in the final hour of the trip…
‘Would you like to see a mating pair of Cheesecakes?’
Tom had found a pair of Ventocoris rusticus, a widespread shieldbug specific to Nigella but not incredibly common, sometimes referred to in French as the ‘Tourteau Fromager’ (Cheesecake) in reference to its appearance, which matches almost exactly to a French cake made with goat’s cheese from the Poitou-Charentes region. After having discovered this charming little fact a few months ago, we have since referred to them only as Cheesecakes (or Tourteau Fromager); they certainly seem to inspire the gastronomist in authors, as Lejeune & Savon (2022) also refer to them as resembling ‘a vanilla cream filled chocolate bonbon’ and even the odd social media observation refers to them as ‘vanilla chocolat’ or similar. To see three pairs (six servings?) on their native host plant was a truly lovely end to a fantastic week. As soon as I had taken a set of pictures of them, the camera battery gave out, with perfect timing.
Lefkada was a beautiful place to explore, and in April before the tourist season, it is very quiet, which adds to the charm. At this time of year, it’s a high effort high reward area: not somewhere the wildlife falls at your feet, a certain degree of work must be done in order to find things. I believe the shieldbug Stagonomus amoenus may be the first record for the island, and Tom recorded a number of ‘firsts’ for woodlice, including some rare species. Reptiles and amphibians were often unexpected finds, from an impressive species list containing some unforgettable animals (such as tortoises and Sheltopusik). We missed out on the vipers despite trying on several occasions to find them, but were more than compensated for this by the beautiful Worm Snake. A quick final day on the mainland provided more ‘additional extras’ than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams!
Εις το επανιδείν, Λευκάδα!
Butterflies:
• Black-veined White (Aporia crataegi)
• Brown Argus (Aricia agestis)
• Cleopatra (Gonepteryx cleopatra)
• Clouded Yellow (Colias croceus)
• Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus)
• Eastern Dappled White (Euchloe ausonia)
• Green Underside Blue (Glaucopsyche alexis)
• Holly Blue (Celastrina argiolus)
• Large Wall Brown (Lasiommata maera)
• Large White (Pieris brassicae)
• Orbed Red-underwing Skipper (Spialia orbifer)
• Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui)
• Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta)
• Scarce Swallowtail (Iphiclides podalirius)
• Small Heath (Coenonympha pamphilus)
• Southern Comma (Polygonia egea)
• Southern Festoon (Zerynthia polyxena) caterpillar only
• Southern Swallowtail (Papilio alexanor)
• Southern White Admiral (Limenitis reducta)
• Speckled Wood (Parage aegeria)
• Wood White (Leptidea sinapis)
Mystery skipper x2
Shieldbugs:
• Carpocoris mediterraneus
• Codophila varia
• Dyroderes umbraculatus
• Eurydema ornata
• Eurgaster maura
• Graphosoma italicum
• Graphosoma semipunctatum
• Macroscytus brunneus
• Mustha spinulosa
• Nezara viridula
• Odontoscelis sp.
• Odontotarsus sp.
• Stagonomus amoenus
• Staria lunata
• Ventocoris rusticus
Other invertebrate highlights:
• Eresus walckenaeri
• Potamon fluviatile
• Purpuricenus kaehleri
• Ceraleptus lugens
• Scarabaeus variolosus
Reptiles and Amphibians:
• Balkan Terrapin (Mauremys rivulata)
• Balkan Whip Snake (Hierophis gemonensis)
• Blue Throated Keeled Lizard (Algyroides nigropunctatus)
• Four-lined Snake (Elaphe quatuorlineata)
• Greek Slowworm (Anguis graeca)
• Green Frog (Pelophylax kurtmuelleri)
• Green Lizard (Lacerta trilineata)
• Green Toad (Bufotes viridis)
• Hermann’s Tortoise (Testudo hermanni)
• House Gecko (Hemidactylus turcicus)
• Marginated Tortoise (Testudo marginata)
• Sheltopusik (Pseudopus apodus)
• Worm Snake (Xerotyphlops vermicularis)