top of page
Annie Northfield

Southern France (June 2018)

In June 2018, my partner and I took a herping and entomology trip to the south of France, around Tourrettes-sur-loup (Alpes-Maritimes). This was the first trip abroad I had ever undertaken with the explicit purpose of looking for wildlife, and as such I had no idea what I was looking for, or indeed where to look for it. However, the incredible virtue of ignorance, as penned by the likes of Fabre and Durrell, is absolutely true; there is no greater pleasure than seeing something which is completely foreign to you, and recognising in it fragments of what you already know.

Location map

We made several pit stops during the course of the journey, most notably at a service station about halfway between Paris and Lyon, which had a small woodland attached. Here there were huge bright orange slugs (Arion sp), the woodlouse Armadillidium opacum, Four-spotted Footman (Lithosia quadra) a vibrant green sawfly (Rhogogaster viridis), and Round-mouthed Snails (Pomatias elegans) with little round opercula, quickly slammed shut when the animal sensed disturbance.

The first reptiles we saw were Wall Lizards / Lézard des murailles (Podarcis muralis), on walls and fences wherever we stopped. They look superficially similar to the UK Common Lizard (Zootoca vivipara), but they are faster, more lithe, and their faces have a rather sly, cunning look. Once we reached the campsite, I almost immediately saw my first Viperine Snake / Couleuvre vipérine (Natrix maura) around the river which ran through the campsite; a shiny chestnut-coloured coil gently baking in the sun, looking very like a viper from a distance, and very like a Grass-snake close up.

On the first night we decided to do some searching with torches along the road and around the campsite to see what came out when it got dark. As the sun went down we saw Moorish Geckos / Tarente de Maurétanie (Tarentola mauritanica) and House Geckos / Hémidactyle verruqueux (Hemidactylus turcicus) on nearly every building and terrace under the lights, waiting for insect life to head towards them. We were hoping the same.


Exiting the campsite and meandering up the road a bit, we stopped first on a small patch of wasteland which backed onto a little-used ‘path’ which was once a stream-bed, leading into the wooded hills behind. Here we discovered all sorts of fantastic creatures: fat, shiny brown Yellow-tailed Scorpions / Scorpion noir (Euscorpius flavicaudis) which we had plenty of fun with, having brought a UV torch with us for this exact purpose. Several chunky woodlice (Armadillidium sordidum and Porcellio spinipennis) were Tom's expertise, and we also encountered plenty of bush crickets and fast, bright orange huntsman spiders (Olios sp.). The whole scene was illuminated by fireflies as the last of the light was lost, making parts of the tree trunks eerily green as they settled.

On the way back, we caught a fantastic tiny spider on the campsite, Saitis barbipes, sometimes called the European Peacock Spider. A different genus to the Australian peacock spiders (the ones which occasionally go viral in videos on social media) but no less striking, with an amazing pair of fluffy legs which seemed disproportionately huge compared to his body size. Later on in the trip we found another spider we suspected to be a female, larger and duller in colour, and in order to test this theory we put her in a container with a freshly-caught male.

He immediately turned to face her in a rather accusatory manner, then stuck his modified legs up in the air so they formed a 'V' shape and vibrated them while rocking from side to side on his other legs. It was a delightful performance, and we left the pot outside with the lid off so they could go their separate ways. Visuals of the dance can be seen here and here, as I took no pictures or videos myself.

 

The following evening, we decided to explore further up the dried riverbed path while it was still light. It curved up at a steep angle and went into the hillside, dividing into animal trails to follow. We saw plenty more scorpions and woodlice under the rocks on the way up, this time counting Armadillidium sordidum, A. depressum, A. nasatum and Porcellio spinipennis. At the top of the hill there were boar and deer tracks everywhere, with no sign that people ever really went up there. The outcrop was surrounded by thick undergrowth, with a dense, scrubby understory and wiry trees sticking through. Some much larger standing dead trunks leant against the rock face behind, pock-marked with woodpecker and insect holes. There was no noise, no litter, and with the still, humid weather it felt like being in an unexplored rainforest.


Back at the campsite, we saw some large ants (possibly Camponotus) and the final-instar larva of the Gypsy Moth / Bombyx disparate (Lymantria dispar), a nearly-unmistakeable species as a caterpillar, with a grey-brown body, lots of tufty hairs, and several sets of blue and red button-like projections on its back.

The next day, we tried to find somewhere in the mountains to walk near the Massif. We did find a footpath, but ended up losing it in a small stream. Here there were lots of stunted Cork Oak / Chêne-liège (Quercus suber) and Olive (Olea europaea) trees forming a canopy roughly ten feet tall, and lots of little pink House Geckos were scurrying about on the rocks. It was extremely hot and humid, and eventually we gave up trying to hike and headed towards the sea to cool off – here I had a nice view of a Violet Carpenter Bee / Abeille charpentière (Xylocopa violacea) on some ornamental shrubs.


We found some promising habitat at the side of the road later on; dry scrub with lots of flat rocks to turn, on an open road near the mountains. The palette of soft blue sky with peachy orange rocks and muted sage and olive-green scrub left no question as to how it charmed the minds of impressionist painters.


There was a lot of invertebrate life here. European Mantis / Mante religieuse (Mantis religiosa) were quite common, and oothecas were stuck to the undersides of rocks and under overhangs in the shade. The careful turning of a flat rock produced a beautiful little scorpion which had just finished moulting. Grasshoppers of all shapes and sizes were abundant. Tom found the isopod Armadillidium esterelanum, endemic to the region. There were also the small, round nests of Paper Wasps / Guêpes Polistes (Polistes dominula) under many of the rocks, and upon exposure to the sun the workers would all turn to face you in a threatening way - unnerving, but we quickly learnt to predict which rocks they would be under and leave them alone.

Nest with five paper wasps

Middle images: Euscorpius scorpion with exuvia, and mantis

Bottom image: European Paper Wasp (P. dominula)

 

We took a short trip to Antibes, with the aim of finding a nice beach or rockpooling spot. We found a nice small bay, with a few rocks to turn, but it was extremely hot and it ended up cutting our trip short. Before we left, we found an extremely nice female Helleria brevicornis. This huge woodlouse is a unique species belonging to an ancient family, Tylidae, with the other 26 species in this family represented by the genus Tylos. They are long lived, with a lifespan of several years, and live in loose mixed sex groups under rocks and in leaf litter, where males can guard their mates. The species is almost exclusively coastal.

Later that day we decided to pursue some cooler activities, so we headed up into the Vallée de Vésubie to look for creatures that may be out and about in the humidity. The valleys were green and misty, with lush green vegetation and very high, quite steep-sided limestone cliffs and rock faces. It was significantly cooler than on the coast, and extremely humid. Under a rather unpromising looking rock next to the road was an interesting Slow-worm / Orvet of a beautiful pearlescent white colour, sparking a debate as to whether it was the common slow worm Anguis fragilis, or the Italian Slow-worm A. veronensis. According to users on iNaturalist (where I put the images later on) we were in the distribution area for A. varonensis, which made it a new species of Slow-worm for me.


The following day, inspired by the interesting environments of the river valleys, we headed into the nearby Roya Valley. I found a beautiful boar skull, we found the woodlice Armadillidium maculatum and A. alassiense, as well as more L. dispar larvae and a smallish toad / Crapaud épineux (Bufo spinosus). In another layby at the side of the road, I saw some large black chafers, Cétoine noire (Netocia morio) on a piece of discarded fruit.

Above: Slow Worm, fruit chafers (probably Netocia morio), L. dispar larva.


That night, the rest of the family returned from a short walk and told us they’d found a dead snake on the road. It apparently wasn't a Viperine, so we headed out in the darkness straight away to look for it, on the way encountering several huge toads unfortunately run over on the road, and several female Rhinoceros Beetles / Scarabée rhinocéros Européen (Oryctes nasicornis) underneath the streetlamps. After half a mile or so we found it: a beautiful, tiny Montpellier Snake / Couleuvre de Montpellier (Malpolon monspessulanus). It was about 1.5 - 2 feet long at the most (this species can approach around 7 feet in length) and was already being disassembled by hordes of the small red-headed ant Crematogaster scutellaris. It had been run over in the cycle lane beside the road, probably that morning. We moved it off the path and checked it several times during the week to see what sort of job the ants were doing with it. By picking up the skull (when the scavengers had cleaned it) with a pair of forceps, I could see the extremely sharp, backwards-pointing teeth and the longer, venomous fang in the bottom jaw towards the back of the mouth typical of 'rear-fanged' snakes.

1: Female Rhinoceros Beetle (O. nasicornis) 2, 3, 4: Western Montpellier Snake (M. monspessulanus)

 

During one of our final days, we visited a hiking area right in the centre of the Esterel massif. On our way in, we passed a dead marten; it seemed strange that in this unfavourable-looking landscape of harsh scrub there were mammals this large hiding away in trees or hollows. We started up a well-walked path from the car park, and I was immediately excited to see a turtle basking on a log in the middle of a large pond. I had been wondering whether we'd get the opportunity to see European Pond Turtles, but this one was only a Red-eared Slider / Tortue de Floride (Trachemys scripta elegans), a non-native North American species. The European Pond Turtle remains elusive.


Poking about in the scrub, I found a Radiated Wolf Spider / Tarentule radiée (Hogna radiata), an enormous leathery tick with long, robust legs, and plenty more grasshoppers, but we eventually decided that going off the footpath and following more subtle trails would prove more fruitful. We began following riverbeds and streams, stumbling across deserted rocky clearings surrounded by Cork trees and populated by small, stunning Lesser Purple Emperor / Petit mars changeant (Apatura ilia) butterflies.

Wolf spider

As we followed a fairly clear animal path past a lake into some dense, scrubby woodland, we began to be harassed by Hippoboscids, which I tentatively thought could be Hippobosca equina – a flat-fly parasite of large mammals which has, for a flat-fly, extremely capable flying skills. This family of fascinating flies are mainly found on bats and birds, and are famed (among many things) for their poor flying ability; some species lose their wings completely once they have found a host. The flies followed us for quite a distance, trying to bite us through our shirts with sharp, jabbing mouthparts, until I imprisoned a particularly tenacious individual in a specimen pot.

Hippoboscid sat on grey T-shirt

Bottom image: H. equina.


We stopped for a rest in a small clearing next to the path. The clearing was a rough bowl shape, surrounded by dense scrub with tangled thorny underbrush, and we had paused under the shade of a large Cork on the slope of a smallish sandy ridge which curved up behind us, part of an old bank. We had barely sat down when there was a rustle in the dry leaves opposite us. Moving with speed and determination towards the undergrowth on the far left side of the clearing was an extremely large, predatory-looking beetle clad in the most incredible glittering green and gold tones. The beetle appeared to notice our movement or excited shouts and immediately buried itself under the roots of a small tree; digging proved unsuccessful and only brought out some angry red ants.


Having never seen a beetle like it before, I suggested we sit back down and wait for it to come back out. Aside from one other rustle and a brief glimpse, the beetle did not re-emerge, and we waited in near-silence for almost half an hour. Afternoon had started to turn into evening by this point, and as we were beginning to think about heading back, we became gradually aware of a loud crunching noise, as if someone was walking up the trail behind us. This was somewhat unnerving, as nobody should have been able to follow our route exactly unless they’d directly followed us, which seemed unlikely, given that we'd been walking for over an hour and seen no-one. I realised that I had no idea what large mammals were supposed to live in this particular area, and the thought that our exit was blocked by an unknown animal was possibly worse. After talking loudly and calling greetings in French and English, with no change in the approaching footsteps, we decided to retreat up the slope we had been sitting on to give whatever it was some space, and attempt to circle back round towards the trail from on top of the ridge so we could avoid each other. As we hastily made up the slope, I realised with alarm that I’d left my camera and specimen pot at the bottom. Sliding down the slope, I grabbed them just in time for the footsteps to enter the clearing, and turned around to see what sort of monster was facing us.


Standing in the clearing was a small female Wild Boar / Sanglier (Sus scrofa), watching with interest as we (probably looking overly flustered) were attempting to get away. After a moment, and evidently deciding that we were no danger, she trotted past up the trail and disappeared into the scrub, followed closely by around 8 more, all adult females of the same size. In hindsight, it should have been obvious that the trail we had been following was a regularly-used mammal path, and also that there are virtually no other animals that make that much noise when moving through the undergrowth. That's not to say that taking a group of adult boar by surprise is a particularly good idea in general, though.


As we walked back towards the car park, we were greeted by a shout from the rest of the family, who had been doing other things. They had been repeatedly calling us to say they'd found an exciting beetle, which had been captured in a sandwich box. As the container was opened an acrid, metallic scent (similar to that which a millipede produces when upset, but stronger) was palpable from several metres away. Inside the box was another metallic predatory beetle, clearly the same species as the one from the clearing, and here we finally saw the beast close-up: the Forest Caterpillar Hunter / Calosome sycophante Calosoma sycophanta, a huge carabid which specialises in predating large, hairy caterpillars. The one in the sandwich box was a male, with coppery tones over a dark green background, and the larger, lighter-coloured one we’d glimpsed earlier in the clearing was almost definitely a female. It was a pity we never captured the female to be able to see them side-by-side, but t see the species up close and also both sexes in one day is extremely lucky.

Above: the clearing. Below: C. sycophanta male.

Closeup of large green and orange Calosoma sycophanta

Driving back into the campsite brought one more surprise. After seeing lots of huge dead Spiny Toads, we had not yet seen a particularly large live one until we were nearly back at camp. Wandering across the road near our plot was a very chubby, grand-looking toad which was unmistakeably our largest yet Bufo spinosus. The classic unpopularity of toads and associations with ugliness are nothing short of outrageous - they are beautiful animals, with charismatic faces and a unique charm in their slow, deliberate movements.


On our final day and night it was hot (36°C) and extremely humid. We decided to stay within walking distance in the local area, and explore a local nature reserve. We stuck to the more populated areas of the nature reserve – it was too muggy to consider much exploring today. The riverside and meadows looked excellent for snakes, and I had my heart set on finding another Montpellier Snake, but we were too late in the day to find any. We observed a fascinating nest of termites under some refugia. Soon after, however, we gave up actively looking for things and sat down by the river to cool off.


We could see a group of toads on the opposite bank while we relaxed, and as we watched, one suddenly became a bit adventurous and plunged in, apparently for a swim. After a couple of minutes the toad became visible at the bottom of the river, crossing it, coming directly towards us. The river looked to be at least chest-deep in the middle, with a strong, fast-moving current; the enormous toad was using her legs to ‘walk’ across the riverbed, holding onto the large stones on the bottom using her front paws. We watched and waited until she came and sat in the shallows, right between us. She was evidently a little tired after her journey, so rested for a while before hoisting herself out of the water and wandering off.


In the pictures there also appears to be a biting fly of some sort on the toad's head.

Also visible are the shapes of some Copper Demoiselles / Caloptéryx hémorroïdal (Calopteryx haemorrhoidalis).


On the return walk, we spotted a snake in the road right next to where the dead Montpellier Snake had been a few days earlier. It was a tiny Grass Snake / Couleuvre à collier (Natrix natrix) – Tom picked it up out of harm's way, and we released it in some woodland on the other side of the road in the direction it seemed to be trying to head in.

Since this was obviously a productive area, we decided to come back when it had cooled down after dark to view the night fauna. This time we had evidently hit the weather jackpot: the temperature had cooled down and the humidity had stayed high, drawing out a huge number of toads – we must have encountered in the range of 16-20 large individuals wandering on the path.


In the limestone cracks and crevices adjacent to the track we found cave spiders (Meta bourneti) and I discovered a fascinating pair of Cave Crickets, with extremely long legs and antennae – Dolichopoda azami. A. N. Brangham describes them as 'living fossils' in The Naturalist's Riviera.

This was a fascinating and very educational introduction to the fauna of southern France. Having read a lot about the wildlife in books, the fauna seemed both familiar and foreign, with some things instantly recognisable, and others completely novel. The cave crickets, Calosoma sycophanta, and the peacock spiders in particular were amazing, and this holiday ignited a strong passion for the Mediterranean region and its wildlife.

 

Invertebrate highlights:

Carpenter Bee (Xylocopa violacea)

Cave Cricket (Dolichopoda azami)

European Mantis (Mantis religiosa)

Forest Caterpillar Hunter (Calosoma sycophanta)

Gypsy Moth (Lymantria dispar)

Isopod: Armadillidium depressum

Isopod: Armadillidium maculatum

Isopod: Armadillidium nasatum

Isopod: Armadillidium sordidum

Isopod: Helleria brevicornis

Isopod: Porcellio spinipennis

Paper Wasp (Polistes dominula)

Rhinoceros Beetle (Oryctes nasicornis)

Wolf Spider (Hogna radiata)


Reptile & Amphibian highlights:

Green Frog (Pelophylax sp)

Grass Snake (Natrix natrix)

Montpellier Snake (Malpolon monspessulanus) dead

Red-eared Slider (Trachemys scripta elegans) non-native

Slow Worm (Anguis veronensis)

Spiny Toad (Bufo spinosus)

Tree Frog (Hyla sp.) call only

Wall Lizard (Podarcis muralis)

Viperine Snake (Natrix maura)

bottom of page