Ever since I bagged the first experience on my tick-list, getting up at the crack of dawn to watch a Black Grouse lek in North Wales, I’ve been like an excited puppy. June would see me travelling up to Scotland to watch gannets dive off Bass Rock. The sight topped last year’s Nature’s Top 40 on BBC Two and Sir David Attenborough has even said it’s “one of the wildlife wonders of the world.” To find out if Sir David was exaggerating my place on a boat was booked and I was counting down the days.
 

Then on Friday the bomb dropped. Due to adverse weather conditions the trip would have to be cancelled. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Neil Oliver, presenter of Coast, recently told me that he’s tried to get to Bass Rock on three occasions and has been thwarted by the elements every time.

But, it’s fair to say I was gutted. Of course, one knock-back isn’t going to stop me and I’m more determined that ever to get up there and see the spectacle. It did leave me with a problem. I was rapidly running out of June and needed another hit for my safari. What to do? Had I fallen at the second hurdle?

Of course not. The whole point of this little project is to prove that even an amateur nature watcher like me can bag prize wildlife memories on my doorstep. So, if I couldn’t go to Scotland and see something stunning, I’d look closer to home.
 

Which is why, on a baking Sunday morning, I bundled the Scott clan into a stuffy car and headed off for the beautiful, verdant glories of the Wye Valley, a mere hour’s drive from our home near Bristol. We were heading for Symonds Yat, a place I hadn’t visited for decades. Why? Well, to see the fastest creature on planet Earth, of course.
 

The Peregrine Falcon, all streamlined feather and muscle, can reach speeds of around 200 miles-per-hour when diving. Just imagine the g-forces that the bird has to cope with when pulling off a manoeuvre like that, especially when at the end it usually has to deliver a killer blow to its prey?
 

When I was growing up, this legendary bird of prey was still something of a rarity. The species had hit rock-bottom in the 1960s when, largely due to changes in farming and the use of pesticides the UK population crashed. Today such organophosphates are banned, and peregrine numbers are on the rise, a real British conservation success stories. They’ve even started roosting in urban area, including the House of Lords in Westminster, but I wanted to see them in the wild.
 

The great thing is that at Symonds Yat Rock, in Gloucestershire, any budding bird-watcher is given a helping hand in spotting the sleek, stunning killing machines. A team of RSPB volunteers is on hand, armed with two high-spec telescopes to point you in the right direction, seven days of the week.

Is it cheating? I don’t think so. How many people head out on safari in the Serengeti without a guide? And what better way of getting people excited about British wildlife than showing something as special as the breeding pair of peregrines that sat looking back at us from their roosts a third of a mile away.
 

“Usually you’d expect more activity from the parents,” I was told by Luke, one of the volunteers braving the fierce sun on the day, “but unfortunately their eggs haven’t hatched this year. We’re not sure exactly why, but we know it’s a new female with an old male, so they might not be compatible. We’re hoping there will be a new male here next year. It’s usually an incredibly successful breeding site.”
 

Sadly, some 12 miles or so away in Parkend, tragedy has also hit another peregrine nest, although this has nothing to do with nature. On 2 June, a seven-year-old female was found near the RPSB’s Nagshead Nature Reserve after being shot at close range with a shotgun.
 

“The tragedy is that by killing one female, you’re killing three or four peregrines,” Luke told me, “She would have probably been incubated a nest. The male will try to raise any surviving chicks but he’ll struggle. He just won’t be big enough to capture enough food.”
 

Even as I type this, a press release has bonged into my inbox. Including the death at Nagshead, there have been over 50 reports of peregrines being poisoned, trapped, shot or having chicks stolen from nests. It’s an increasing trend. In 2007, there were only 70 reports for the entire year.

Incidents this year, include a mother and chick found poisoned near Sunderland, pigeons suspected of being laced with poison tethered near a known nesting area in Cumbria and a racing pigeon recovered in Walsall complete with a capsule containing Aldicarb, a banned poison, taped to its leg. The RPSB believe that the majority of the cases are the handiwork of rogue elements of both the game shooting and pigeon racing communities, who blame the peregrines for the loss of their birds. The trouble is a peregrine doesn’t care if its taking out a bird from the wild or that prize racing pigeon.

It’s fair to say that, if the people I talk to every day in my job are anything to go by, such incidents are condemned by both conservationists and organisations representing the sports mentioned above. Here on Symonds Yat, the shooting of such a remarkable creature shocked most of the people watching the birds and many were spurred to sign the RSPB’s pledge to stamp out apparent persecution of birds of prey.
 

I took one last look at the female peregrine sitting imperiously on her treetop perch. There was a chance that unless I rewarded my daughter with an ice-cream for being so patient as I stood and stared in wonder, she’d explode. But as I made my farewells and turned to leave, the rock exploded into excitement. Binoculars were whipped to folk’s eyes and grown men charged across the viewpoint in glee. However, this sudden activity had nothing to do with the suddenly abandoned peregrines. No, a Scarlet Tiger Moth had darted through the crowd and into a nearby bush. They’re not particularly rare in June, especially on river banks or cliff sides, but still this sole day-flier proved that wherever you are a day watching British wildlife will always throw up a few surprises.