We stopped for elevenses in the form of a nice Cornish pasty… and were mobbed. There is no other way to say it. We went hunting ducklings, armed, I must stress, with no more than some duck-seed and our cameras… and we were mobbed.
The mallards were the worst offenders… no shame at all. Sitting or standing, we were stood upon. Nibbled.
And eventually …approved. At least as a source of food.
The robins seemed to aprove too.
But then, there are always robins, wherever we go…
They all seemed quite happy to dine with us. But…those nice crispy duck pancakes? It’s not going to happen… that’s another thing off my list.