This is England.

I’ve seen many countries, and it’s nice to remember just how awesome this one is.

England’s smallest historic county is also mostly under water. This makes it attractive to people that like water sports and the lack of urban centres means that the county is mostly farmland or touristy.

I pass through frequently as Rutland is in the way when I want to get to Stamford and this means I’ve seen a couple of signs for interesting looking photo opportunities.

So this morning I got up early, drove through the blistering sunshine and found myself paying Anglian Water to park my car. I left it halfway between the algae covered oversized pond and my actual destination which, at 9.58am, had its door open.

I wandered in, said hello to the basking turtles in the entrance then followed a signed stating, “This way.” It led me to some ants, some frogs, a couple of lizards. Eventually a man also appeared, looked shocked to see me and asked if I’d just arrived.

It felt churlish to point out I’d been there nearly ten minutes already, especially as that included a couple of minutes during with they weren’t officially open, and offered to pay. He pushed a small piece of paper at me with animal feeding times on it, so I declined and passed it back. It was pushed my way again and I politely said, “No thank you.” At this point he apologised and told me he had to give me the paper as I needed to read the notice on the back.

Maybe he should have mentioned this up front.

The notice was fairly mundane. Don’t feed the animals, don’t let them eat you, don’t chase them and don’t eat them. Or something on those lines; apparently letting customers loose among the exhibits has led to all of the above being at least attempted.

At this point I wandered through the exhibits. Lots of lizards, even more turtles (which is cool, I like turtles – but not the long necked turtle which just looked deformed), a few insects and a couple of small mammals.

Eventually I found the butterfly room, a small hot house filled with fish infested ponds, jungle plants, two attractive birds, a small lonely looking animal and a few butterflies. As butterfly houses go it’s the equal worse I’ve seen – matched only by the now closed butterfly house a mile west on Rutland Water. I did wonder if this is the same mini zoo, moved, renamed and unimproved.

A sign on the way in had mentioned baby meerkats, born five weeks ago. I found them. Baby meerkats continue to be exceedingly cute. Unfortunately these were hidden behind grubby glass barriers, so no photo opportunities. The hairy armadillo was also hiding, although this time in its den. I strolled off, found the dark room full of snakes, spiders and bits of wool left dangling to catch your hair. I’m sure it’s meant to be droll and atmospheric, and not just irritating.

On my return the armadillo had emerged. It toured its pen, reaching up to check each of the walls then, seemingly confirmed in its captivity, gave up and went back into its den. I left the building, the turtles seemed relaxed but everything else there was a bit sad.

Instead I took advantage of the sandy carpark to create huge clouds of dust and headed back along the reservoir to my other destination for the morning. If Bugtopia was a low rent zoo then the Rutland Falconry and Owl Centre is a no rent one. It’s a lovely stretch of natural woodland filled with rickety cages made from wood and chicken wire, the sort of place a fox dreams of.

The residents of those cages dream of foxes. Good eating on a fox, and the owls, vultures, eagles and falcons all looked willing to tuck in. They all looked healthy birds, well fed, nice feathers and bored stiff. Several complained about being chained to a small post; a number of the ones in 20 foot wide cages flew from wall to wall, turning and flying again to try and get some exercise, escape, relieve the boredom.. something.

I’d gone to admire the sleek intelligent birds of prey. I wanted to enjoy walking through the woodland, the sun filtering through the trees. Instead I got depressed. The birds are clearly cared for, but just don’t look happy. Owls are good at looking grumpy.

I got back into the car, put the top down and drove back towards Oakham. Turning right would take me home but I decided I needed cheering up so I turned left instead.

I went home happy.