Jackie in pictures: Belvis is not Elvis

Tonight is our last in the tiny bungalow alongside the sounds of Little Owl and branches making animal-like sounds on the roof. I'd hoped it was animals (Possoms or a Mongoose - I know, wrong country).

We saw the Little Owl going into its nest in a Cork Oak tree from the terrace by the tiny restaurant yesterday evening. I had high hopes that this was just the beginning but nothing much happened after that. This isn't a particularly bird-rich area and we travelled a few miles (about 50) to re-visit the Spanish Imperial Eagle site today. We were entertained by the pair coming and going to and fro their nest as before, but this time the temperature has increased to a hot 23C.

We re-visited the castle and its Griffin Vultures at Monfrague, which was also the site of school visits by hoards of Spanish children. For some unexplained reason (Tilley hats, long-sleeved shirts, anaemic looking, camera wielding, exuding Englishness, marvelling at everything), the naughty boys took great pleasure in mimicking us when they weren't climbing the precarious walls with sheer drops. As Spanish kids, one can only assume they've been brought up with rocks and drops and generally don't fall. The teachers didn't take any notice. The ice-cream/cool drink/junk vendor was repeatedly inundated by over-heated groups of youngish children and as the Griffon Vultures and Eagles weren't performing well in the heat, the kids were mesmerisingly watchable - by me anyway.

Earlier, we walked across the road into the village of Casas de Belvis to buy bread and cheese. It was not a happening place in any way. Nothing was moving or shaking. We almost walked past the shop without noticing what it was - as anyone would.