Watching pelicans at Lake Kerkini had been a dream of mine for a long time. In February, I travelled to Greece in late winter, where I enjoyed unforgettable encounters with these majestic birds during several boat trips. In this article, you’ll discover which two pelican species live here and the impressions I brought home from this remarkable experience.
Pelicans at Lake Kerkini
Pelicans landing on the water. Snow-covered mountains in the background. Above them, a sky glowing in shades of pink. That was how I imagined Lake Kerkini. Long before my trip, I had seen breathtaking photographs of its pelicans. Would I be able to capture these magnificent birds with my own camera?
I certainly hoped so.
But first, there were some practical questions to answer: Where exactly is Lake Kerkini? What’s the best way to get there? And where are the best places to observe the pelicans?
Since I travelled to Lake Kerkini independently in February, without joining an organised tour, I had to research all the practical information myself.
Lake Kerkini is located in northern Greece, in the region of Central Macedonia, close to the Bulgarian border. Thessaloniki, Greece’s second-largest city, is about 100 kilometres away. To the north of the lake rises Mount Beles (also known as Mount Kerkini). The Strymonas River (Struma) flows into Lake Kerkini from the northeast before continuing its course southeast of the village of Lithotopos. Here, a dam regulates the lake’s water level. Originally, it was built primarily for flood control and to prevent seasonal flooding. Today, the lake also serves as an important water source for irrigating the surrounding agricultural land.
Over time, however, Lake Kerkini has developed into an important wetland ecosystem that provides a vital habitat for countless bird and fish species. It’s no surprise that this remarkable place attracts nature lovers and wildlife photographers from around the world—including me.
But why did I choose to visit Lake Kerkini in February instead of April or May, when birdlife is at its busiest?
The answer is simple: pelicans. Winter is considered one of the best times to observe them at Lake Kerkini. Although both species can be found here throughout the year, they become much more elusive during the breeding season.
Lake Kerkini is home to two remarkable pelican species: the great white pelican and the Dalmatian pelican (photo).
Information: In addition to the great white pelican and the Dalmatian pelican, several other pelican species exist worldwide, including the Australian pelican, the American white pelican, the pink-backed pelican, the spot-billed pelican, the brown pelican, and the Peruvian pelican.
But first I had to figure out where the pelicans could actually be observed at best. According to iNaturalist, they can be seen all across Lake Kerkini, but as mentioned earlier, they tend to withdraw more and more from spring onwards.
On my first day at Lake Kerkini, I therefore drove towards Mandraki, a small village in the northern part of the lake. There was supposed to be a pelican observation tower there—at least according to various reports.
On site, however, I was quickly brought back to reality: not a single pelican in sight. Instead, I spotted Eurasian coots, great egrets, and greylag geese. But pelicans at Lake Kerkini? Not a single one (photo: Livadia, a nearby village).
I therefore decided to continue driving towards the village of Kerkini. Several small villages line the shores of the lake. My accommodation was located in Livadia, just a few minutes’ drive from Kerkini.
Speaking of driving: without a car, getting around Lake Kerkini is quite limited. I had originally planned to arrive by train, but in hindsight I was very glad to have a car—despite not particularly enjoying driving. I had even rented it in Thessaloniki. Still, the flexibility it gave me on site was well worth the effort.
In Kerkini itself, there is a small harbour from which boats set out onto the lake (photo: boats in Lithotopos).
At first, I did not join any boat tour. I wanted to explore Lake Kerkini from the shore first. At the harbour in Kerkini, I then spotted my first pelican—a Dalmatian pelican. But as soon as it noticed me, it swam away (the following photo was taken at a later point in time).
Where were all the pelicans at Lake Kerkini?
That question wouldn’t leave me alone. I also kept wondering where I could join a boat tour—and, more importantly, who I should contact to arrange one. Before my trip, I had unfortunately looked into these options too late. I had assumed it would be easy enough to join a tour spontaneously on site.
But it turned out to be surprisingly difficult.
So I continued driving south. Just before Lithotopos, I came across a small fisherman’s hut. Perhaps, I hoped, this would be a good place to observe pelicans on the lake.
And indeed—it was.
I stayed there for more than an hour. From my spot, I was able to observe several pelicans—Dalmatian pelicans. They were joined by numerous other waterbirds: black-headed gulls, great cormorants, and black-necked grebes. There was a lot going on out on the water.
Could it have been the fishermen, heading out onto Lake Kerkini from here in their boats?
Fortunately, they did not seem disturbed by my presence. Still, I kept wondering: where were all the other nature observers? Was I really the only one here? Or was there perhaps a better place to experience the pelicans up close?
In any case, I stayed by the small fisherman’s hut for a while longer and simply took in the scene. The pelicans at Lake Kerkini, along with all the other waterbirds, were reason enough to linger and watch.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching and photographing the pelicans. They seemed incredibly photogenic. Gliding slowly across the water—sometimes crouched low, almost merging with the surface, sometimes two of them close together side by side. And then again upright, heads raised, as if looking straight at me.
The pelicans didn’t seem to disturb one another. They glided peacefully side by side across the water or drifted calmly past each other.
Many cormorants moved through the pelicans’ midst. Time and again, they dived down, only to resurface a few moments later close by. It felt as if they acknowledged each other’s presence—calmly, naturally, and without the slightest sense of disturbance.
What I also noticed, however, left me with mixed feelings: among the pelicans, plastic containers and empty bottles were drifting on the water. Why weren’t they simply collected from the boats?
In general, I kept coming across discarded plastic in nature around Lake Kerkini.
Yes, the lake is a paradise for countless bird species and nature photographers—a place of remarkable beauty. But even this paradise has its darker sides, and I do not want to leave them unmentioned.
Nevertheless, from my vantage point next to the small fisherman’s hut, I spotted more birds in the distance. A great white pelican stood out in particular, their delicate pinkish plumage clearly visible even from afar.
Eventually, I decided to leave the Dalmatian pelicans and the other waterbirds by the fisherman’s hut behind for the moment. In a wide arc, and keeping as much distance as possible from the resting birds, I walked along the edge of some bushes. Perhaps, I hoped, I might find a different perspective from a bit further away that would allow me to observe them once again.
Alongside the pelicans, there were also numerous great cormorants, black-headed gulls, and even dunlins to be seen. What an impressive diversity of beautiful birds, I thought to myself.
I tried to remain as invisible as possible. But one careless movement on my part startled a bird into flight, then another—and then yet another. Part of the group took the disturbance as a cue to take to the air.
I felt bad. After all, the birds were resting there undisturbed, in what should have been a well-earned break.
Information: Speaking of dunlins: I’ve been fortunate enough to observe this fascinating species in several very different places—for example on the island of Grímsey in Iceland and in Barbate in Andalusia, Spain. If you’re curious about which other bird species I encountered there, feel free to take a look at the corresponding blog posts.
I felt very sorry about what had happened. In situations like these, it is probably better to have someone with local knowledge by your side—someone who is familiar with the birds and their behaviour and can realistically assess their flight distance. I had actually believed I was keeping enough distance.
So I retreated to a meadow behind the area. There, I spotted a few songbirds. A crested lark hopped through the grass, alert and watchful, showing some shyness—but not excessive wariness. I’ll say more about the other birds in a separate blog post.
Eventually, I returned once more to the small fisherman’s hut. By then, the pelicans there seemed to have settled back into calm.
I then decided to continue my drive south towards Lithotopos. According to iNaturalist, pelicans are mainly spotted there during the winter months—and indeed, I also came across a few individuals.
Unfortunately, they were once again swimming among a considerable amount of floating plastic.
Then I noticed three pelicans circling a plastic bottle with clear curiosity. Was it something edible? Again and again, they nudged it with their bills, lifted it, let it drop, and tried once more. Fortunately, the object could not be swallowed. Even while investigating it, they took turns, as if jointly trying to figure out whether the apparent find was worth it.
I also spotted boats that, as I assumed, were heading out towards the pelicans. But who would I even have asked here about a boat tour? There were hardly any people around.
Near Lithotopos, I came across more fishermen. Here as well, numerous pelicans gathered around the boats. However, observing the birds proved more difficult than before.
From time to time, I saw individual pelicans flying overhead—majestic and completely silent.
I also spotted a great egret, but photographing the pelicans proved to be particularly difficult.
So I decided to return to the small fisherman’s hut. Perhaps the light had changed slightly, and I might be able to take a few different photos.
For a brief moment, the sun even broke through the clouds, but overall the day remained overcast and grey.
I used the opportunity to keep practising my photography.
It was already after midday, and I was considering whether to continue driving around Lake Kerkini or head back towards Kerkini and Livadia. Perhaps I would see more pelicans there—or maybe even meet someone offering boat tours.
I lingered a little longer—and fortunately I did. Just as I was about to leave, three Irish travellers arrived at the fisherman’s hut. I’m not usually very talkative, but we exchanged greetings, and I asked them whether they had already been on a boat tour. “Yes—and the next one starts in half an hour,” they replied.
And so it happened that I joined the three Irish travellers on my first boat tour—the afternoon trip departing at half past two. Before we set off, I took one last photo of the pelicans near the small fisherman’s hut, and then we drove towards Lithotopos, where the tour began.
Information: Back home, I had tried to organise a boat tour at very short notice—but unfortunately without success. One well-known local provider is Nikos, who regularly offers tours. The easiest way is to search online for “Nikos” and “Kerkini” to find a direct contact who can arrange boat trips to see the pelicans.
The great white pelican
With a body length of up to 170 centimetres and a weight of around ten kilograms, the great white pelican is one of the largest flying waterbirds in the world. Males are noticeably larger and more robustly built than females. Overall, it clearly surpasses both the mute swan and the grey heron in size.
A defining characteristic of the great white pelican is its highly social breeding behaviour in large colonies. Where one pelican is seen, others are usually nearby—especially during the breeding season, when hundreds or even thousands of birds gather at suitable sites.
Information: Other bird species that breed in colonies include Atlantic puffins, northern gannets, and sand martins. You can read more about these fascinating birds in my earlier blog posts.
Its preferred habitat includes extensive wetlands such as freshwater lakes, river deltas, lagoons, and marshes, as well as brackish lakes. It also readily adapts to man-made water bodies, including large reservoirs like Lake Kerkini, provided there is sufficient food and undisturbed nesting sites.
The largest breeding colonies of the great white pelican are found in Africa, where the species is most abundant. A look at observation records on iNaturalist also shows that great white pelicans have a wide distribution across Europe, Africa, and Asia. There are currently no confirmed records from Australia, South America, or Antarctica. In North America—specifically in Florida—seven individual sightings have been documented and uploaded to iNaturalist (as of June 2026). How these birds arrived there remains unclear; human involvement is a plausible explanation.
Question: Are you familiar with iNaturalist? If not, iNaturalist is a citizen science platform where anyone can share their wildlife observations. It also helps with identifying plant and animal species.
Great white pelicans also undertake seasonal migrations. As thermal soarers—similar to storks—they rely on rising warm air currents and tend to avoid long flights over open sea. As a result, they prefer to migrate over landmasses and along geographical bottlenecks such as straits. However, not all populations are migratory: some, particularly many African great white pelicans, are largely sedentary and remain in their breeding areas year-round.
At Lake Kerkini, I mainly observed Dalmatian pelicans. I only encountered two great white pelicans at one location.
Information: Another impressive species is the Australian Pelican. I was able to observe these pelicans in Australia, both on Moreton Island and Kangaroo Island. If you’d like to read more about my encounters with Australian Pelicans, feel free to take a look at one of my earlier blog posts.
The Dalmatian pelican
The most commonly observed pelican species at Lake Kerkini in February is the Dalmatian pelican. Like great white pelicans, Dalmatian pelicans rank among the largest waterbirds in the world. Although great white pelicans are said to be slightly larger on average, both species generally reach a comparable size. As with many bird species, females are usually somewhat smaller than males; otherwise, the sexes differ only minimally in appearance.
Dalmatian pelicans have a bill measuring around 40 centimetres, ending in a distinctive orange “nail” at the tip. The colouring of both the bill and the throat pouch varies throughout the year and depends on whether the birds are in their breeding or non-breeding plumage. The more vivid breeding plumage is displayed during the mating season, while outside this period they show a more subdued appearance.
The throat pouch ranges in colour from yellowish to reddish-orange. Its intensity varies between individuals and also depends on whether the birds are in the breeding season or not.
The plumage on the head and neck is long and distinctly curly, which is why it is also sometimes called the “curly-headed pelican”. Overall, the plumage is predominantly white, with only the wing tips showing a dark, almost blackish coloration.
Dalmatian pelicans—like great white pelicans and all other pelican species—belong to the order Pelecaniformes. This group also includes birds such as cormorants and gannets.
These birds have a characteristic feature: all four toes are connected by a continuous webbing, making them excellent swimmers.
All members of this group share an unfeathered patch of skin in the throat area. However, this feature is not equally pronounced in all species—in pelicans, it has developed into a particularly large and functionally important throat pouch.
Typical of the Dalmatian pelican—as of all pelican species—is its bill, which can reach up to 40 centimetres in length, along with the highly extensible skin pouch attached to it. This pouch is connected to the lower mandible and can expand considerably when catching prey. During fishing, it functions like a net: the bird scoops up water along with its prey, lets the excess water drain away, and then swallows the catch.
I was able to observe this behaviour impressively during my two boat tours on Lake Kerkini. In the following sections, I will describe my impressions and observations in more detail.
Information: Since I only observed Dalmatian pelicans during my boat tours on Lake Kerkini, I will use the term “pelicans” throughout the rest of this article to refer specifically to Dalmatian Pelicans.
Pelicans at Lake Kerkini in the evening
My first boat tour on Lake Kerkini started in the afternoon and ended in the evening; in total, we were on the water for about two to three hours. The sky was overcast, and only occasionally did a few rays of sunlight break through the clouds, but I still tried to make the best of the challenging lighting conditions—just like the other wildlife photographers on board.
In total, there were six of us plus the boat driver, and everyone had a high-quality camera. I hadn’t realised before how well known the pelicans at Lake Kerkini are among wildlife photographers.
As soon as we set off, the Dalmatian pelicans began to follow our boat—and within moments I understood why: fish. The boat driver had two buckets of fish on board, which he gradually threw out to the pelicans.
“Oh, I see,” I thought, “that’s why the pelicans at Lake Kerkini are so easy to photograph!” This came as a real surprise to me, as I had assumed we would be able to observe their behaviour without any human influence. In reality, however, the birds were deliberately guided through feeding in order to position them for ideal photographic opportunities.
Of course, I also asked myself whether I actually approved of this. Well—when you arrive in a new place and are unfamiliar with the animals and their habitat, it’s not easy to judge. Biologists are said to have been critical of the fish-feeding practice at first, but it now appears to be generally accepted and even welcomed.
Question: What do I think about it? For me, it is fascinating to see how close you can get to the animals in this way—while at the same time realising that everything is, to some extent, staged. It prompts reflection on how we interpret our observations in nature.
As a simple tourist, traveller, or nature observer—whatever one may call it—it is difficult for me to judge the practice of artificial feeding. I do not know Lake Kerkini, its surroundings, or the local wildlife well enough for that.
So I accepted the place as it presented itself to me and took the opportunity to observe the pelicans at Lake Kerkini up close—and of course to photograph them. While the feeding certainly made conditions much easier, photographing them was still not without challenges: changing light, the constant movement of the birds, and the question of the right lens all required attention and flexibility.
From the very beginning of our boat trip, the pelicans followed us across Lake Kerkini. They clearly knew that fish would be provided and accompanied us attentively and expectantly over the water.
Information: Speaking of feeding: animals are also fed in other places, even though they are not kept in captivity. One example is the marmots at the Grossglockner. You can read more about them in one of my earlier blog posts.
Gradually, the boat driver threw fish to the pelicans. They immediately set off in pursuit. With powerful wingbeats, they flew past us on the right or left, landed beside the boat on the water, or touched down behind us so as not to miss any opportunity. Time and again, they repositioned themselves, alert and surprisingly skilful, ready to catch the next fish.
At first, only a few pelicans followed us—but their numbers were soon to grow.
What fascinated me most was watching the pelicans land. With their wings fully outstretched, they came in on approach, braked just above the water’s surface, and then settled gently onto the lake, gliding a short distance across the water before coming to rest.
They are remarkably beautiful birds. And yet—I have to admit honestly at this point—all of these impressions would not have been possible to experience, let alone capture photographically, without the birds being fed from the boat.
Is this natural behaviour?
Well—I certainly enjoyed the observations and the many opportunities to photograph the pelicans. At the same time, I was aware that their behaviour was being artificially influenced. I don’t want to criticise this, but I think it is important not to leave out this information—especially for anyone interested in wildlife photography.
Before my departure, I had already seen many impressive photographs. Now I also know how they were created.
Gradually, more and more pelicans joined in, all competing for the fish. Who would be the first to snatch one? Sometimes it seemed wiser to land in an open spot, away from the others, in order to increase the chances of securing the next bite.
Eventually, one pelican decided to land directly on the boat. For it, this had clear advantages: no other pelican could compete for the fish anymore. Still, the other pelicans at Lake Kerkini did not go hungry—only on the boat did the competition for the next bite disappear.
The other pelicans had to wait their turn—unless they were squabbling, they either lingered or put on their endearing “look at me” expression.
It was still overcast, and the sun barely dared to break through the clouds. But at least: it wasn’t raining.
Sometimes the boat was moving, sometimes we stopped. The boat driver repeatedly asked how he should turn—he wanted to position us photographers in the best possible way. The pelican on board remained calm and simply rode along.
I took countless photos of the pelicans—probably far too many. What I found especially captivating was capturing them as they landed on the water.
But of course, they were only interested in one thing.
The fish.
Eventually, we stopped again. The pelicans at Lake Kerkini gathered around the boat and turned their curious, expectant gazes towards us.
In that moment, I was able to take portraits of the waiting pelicans. They are truly remarkably beautiful birds.
Suddenly, the light changed: it became warmer, more colourful, and no longer cast the lake in shades of grey. I took the opportunity to capture more images of them.
I was now able to photograph the pelican that had been riding on the boat in a better light. And I was not the only one—the other photographers on board also took advantage of the opportunity.
Some pelicans even rested their heads on the boat—a pose that immediately reminded me of a dog. And it worked: the boat driver promptly rewarded them with a fish. Quite clever birds! They seemed to know exactly what they had to do to get their next bite.
The light was still dim, but it reflected on the water’s surface, bathing the surroundings in a soft red glow. On the boat, I became quiet and spoke only rarely. The other participants were also fully focused on the pelicans at Lake Kerkini. Yet there was a pleasant, almost silent atmosphere: no pushing, no competition for the best spot. Everyone behaved respectfully towards one another. Together, we tried to capture the beauty of the pelicans at Lake Kerkini as best we could.
As the tour drew to a close, things became increasingly exciting. The light shed its grey heaviness and gained warmth and depth. Even the boat driver, who is usually a photographer himself, noticed the change. Patiently, he kept pointing out where he would throw the fish, allowing us to get our cameras ready in time.
While this was not entirely natural behaviour of the pelicans at Lake Kerkini, it still gave us the opportunity to capture their dynamism and grace in an impressive way.
By the way, I shot with a 70–200 mm lens. I also had a 50 mm lens with me, although for landscape shots an even wider focal length would probably have been more suitable. On board, there was a photographer using prime lenses of 105 mm and longer—which is definitely worthwhile, as the pelicans at Lake Kerkini often come close enough for particularly striking portrait shots.
Nevertheless, it almost seemed as if some of the birds could tell from a distance that there was something to gain from us.
More pelicans meant, above all, more opportunities for us to photograph them at Lake Kerkini. For the birds themselves, however, it meant one thing in particular: increased competition among each other.
Sometimes they simply sat there, calmly watching the boat. At times, it almost felt as if they were waiting patiently. Were they hoping to catch another fish? Their movements carried a mixture of calm and expectation—a quiet attentiveness that was just as fascinating as their spectacular flights.
As it gradually grew darker, we slowly made our way back towards Lithotopos. Since there was still some fish left, the pelicans at Lake Kerkini followed us for a while. They took off, trailed the boat, and landed on the water again—always in the hope of another catch. This constant coming and going, this interplay of flight and landing, repeated itself again and again.
At some point, I put the camera down. Much as I love photography, I sometimes feel it can also become a small barrier between me and the moment. Then I don’t want to look through the viewfinder, but simply observe. So why do I take photos at all?
In hindsight, I know the answer: I enjoy the images. And I also enjoy being able to share them here on the blog—as a memory of an evening full of light, movement, and encounters.
Question: Do you take your camera with you when you travel to capture special moments? Or do you deliberately leave it at home in order to experience animals and nature without looking through a viewfinder? I’d love to hear how you approach this—feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.
Pelicans at the Lake Kerkini in the morning
After my first boat tour, two days passed before I was able to head out onto Lake Kerkini again. It was raining. Although a tour would have been possible even in light drizzle, the forecast promised a more pleasant morning—and I decided to wait for that.
In the meantime, I wandered along the lakeshore on foot or stayed at my accommodation and began going through my first images. I had taken plenty of photos. Including on that morning when I once again joined a boat tour.
The tour started as early as seven in the morning. I arrived at the harbour in Kerkini while it was still dark. Although it would also have been possible to start in Lithotopos, I was honestly relieved to set off directly from Kerkini—especially in foggy conditions, I prefer not to drive too far at Lake Kerkini.
When we cast off, it was still dark. So I experienced the first light of the day directly out on Lake Kerkini—the quiet moment when night slowly gives way to morning.
And as soon as the pelicans spotted us, they followed the boat as if they had been waiting for us.
We were not the only ones who had come to observe—and photograph—the pelicans at Lake Kerkini. In the distance, I spotted another boat. Had they brought no fish with them? It almost seemed that way, as the pelicans gradually turned away and flew in our direction.
In the soft morning light, I tried to capture a pelican as a silhouette—just its outline against the brightening sky, reduced to form and movement.
Once again, only photographers were on board. I found that quite impressive—the pelicans at Lake Kerkini seem to have quite a legendary reputation among wildlife photographers.
The sun had not fully risen yet, but the pelicans patiently followed the boat, as if fully aware of the morning spectacle unfolding.
This time, the boat driver only had one bucket of fish with him; on the previous trip there had been two. Even so, he—although a different driver this time—made an effort to find the best possible positions for us to photograph.
The sun sent its first warm rays across the lake, while mist lingered in the background over Lake Kerkini. I loved this atmosphere: mysterious and still, yet full of life.
As on the previous tour, the boat alternated between movement and moments of stillness—we would drift on, then pause for a while to let the scene unfold in peace.
Finally, the sun rose, and the view over Lake Kerkini was simply beautiful. Experiencing the sunrise together with the pelicans was a special moment, filled with calm and light.
Only the amount of talking was slightly distracting—I would have preferred to experience the lake in complete silence. The boat driver was very friendly and tried to offer us the best possible experience, but in the midst of such quiet beauty, his words sometimes felt like too much.
What I somewhat regretted in hindsight was not having asked the boat driver more about the pelicans at Lake Kerkini. Although I returned home with countless photos, the pelicans themselves remained a bit of a mystery to me.
Unfortunately, clouds gradually moved in and hid the sun behind a veil, softening the light.
Once again, only Dalmatian Pelicans could be observed. And the Great White Pelicans—where do they actually spend the winter? Is it normal for them to stay away from the boats, or are there simply only a few of them at Lake Kerkini in general?
Questions upon questions that I would have liked to ask, but that now only come to mind in hindsight.
Oh yes—and some of the pelicans had numbers on their wings. Was there a research project behind this? Were they marked in order to better track their movements?
At least I learned that the feeding of pelicans at Lake Kerkini is now generally supported by biologists. As a result, many of them remain in the region throughout the year, although they gradually withdraw as spring progresses.
Nevertheless, as on my first tour, one pelican eventually gathered its courage and landed directly on the boat.
Of course, it was the fish that had drawn it in. With its head slightly tilted and that almost pleading look, it fixed its gaze on the boat driver—so intently that it was almost impossible to resist. The tactic worked: shortly afterwards, it was rewarded with another fish.
There was one pelican that kept opening its bill wide. As far as I understood, this was related to the fish it had just swallowed, since pelicans often open their bills to properly position prey in the throat pouch and allow excess water to drain before finally swallowing it.
The mist still hung over Lake Kerkini as the sun gradually weakened. Eventually, we reached a spot where the pelicans were beautifully reflected in the water—perfect for photographs. Our boat driver knew exactly what photographers were looking for: the right light, the mist, and the perfect reflection.
Both boat tours, the morning as well as the evening one, lasted about two hours. Apparently, a tour can also take up to three hours when conditions are perfect.
It was quite cold in February, by the way. I wore gloves and a winter jacket. After two hours I was a bit chilled through, but to be honest, I only really noticed it at the end because I was so focused on the pelicans.
As the light conditions deteriorated, we eventually headed back towards the harbour.
What I found interesting was that the pelicans at Lake Kerkini seemed to know that the boat driver no longer had any fish. As soon as we set off, the pelicans stayed behind.
Information: For a boat tour, you should expect to pay around 60 euros. Some hotels also offer tours where the price is included or may be slightly lower. In February, when I was there, this was the price in any case.
More information
Have you heard of the pelicans at Lake Kerkini? Have you ever been there, or observed pelicans somewhere else? Feel free to leave a comment and share your experiences.
