Avian outings abound near Amsterdam

"What was that ostrich doing?" I demanded of a resident bird trainer in the hotel lobby that day.

Her cheeks flushed as red as her hair as she avoided my eyes and studied a display of stuffed toy birds. "It is a mating dance," she said with a glance at my tall, handsome husband. "The ostrich likes him."

Jonathan and I are self-professed bird nerds, volunteer educators at our local raptor center. We had reserved four nights at Hotel Avifauna because it sits adjacent to the largest bird park in the Netherlands, 25 miles southwest of Amsterdam. Three thousand birds of 400 species live here. Enormous enclosures house an extensive collection of hornbills, their vibrant beaks impossibly bulbous above slim bodies. Surrender a euro in the Lorikeet exhibit, and children can feed the rainbow-hued Australian birds a cup of nectar. Six snowy owls guard one end of a low brick castle, while a great gray owl presides over the other.

The Avifauna Birdpark makes for a verdant, tranquil escape from crowds at the Van Gogh Museum and tourists thronging the Leidensplein. Or so we thought.

Leave your window open at night and you'll be awakened at 5 a.m. by shrieks and howls. The nighttime hooting of Eurasian eagle owls gives way to the plaintive call of seagulls and the squawking of ducks in the streams meandering through the compound. Two bald eagles sound their "kak-kak-kak" cry in the middle of the park.

The Avifauna has a fine restaurant with a belt-busting complimentary breakfast and picture windows overlooking trees full of birds. Lunch and dinner offerings include vegetarian dishes as well as steak, salmon, and chicken. Another restaurant at the end of the park allows visitors to sit inside or out, snacking on Dutch "patat" (french fries with mayonnaise), while storks build nests in the treetops overhead.

Two exotic offerings among a flock of nonstop highlights will delight visitors. The first is the most exciting children's playground I've ever seen. A magnificent 50-foot tower topped with a toucan presides in the middle and winding stairs lead to four slides that accommodate various degrees of daring. Our daughter preferred the low, straight slide, while I headed for the tallest spiral. Kids can sail across a stream on a pulley while graceful cranes glide overhead. Alternatively, visitors can pull a flat boat across to teeter-totters and trampolines. But by far the most impressive aspect of Avifauna is the free-flight bird show. It's held twice daily from March to September in an amphitheater beside a lake dominated by a giant fountain.

The resident red-haired trainer appeared on a small stage. She raised her hand, and two Eurasian eagle owls sailed on 5-foot wings across the lake, coming to rest on stumps beside her. Six red kites spiraled over our heads, catching mealworms tossed by the trainer. Then she grabbed a feathered lure on a rope. Swinging it overhead like a lasso, she enticed a Lanner falcon to fly loops while the crowd applauded. By the time the two great gray owls glided across the lake, tears of rapture dimmed my eyes.

"It is so important to protect these birds' habitats," the trainer said at the show's end. "Here at Avifauna, we want to promote wildlife appreciation."

For four days we appreciated, amassing enough photos to fill several albums. Our ostrich visited again, assessing me with long-lashed, soulful eyes. Hoping to prove myself worthy, I offered him a piece of apple. He accepted it in his beak, clamping down on my fingers with a sharp reminder that fine feathers might be pretty, but they belong to wild animals.

Visitors who still crave birds after Hotel Avifauna can visit Amsterdam's venerable Artis Zoo, which houses tropical songbirds and native raptors, along with the usual lions, tigers, and bears. A spacious cage holds regal Griffon vultures, separated from visitors by chain link with spaces large enough to accommodate our daughter's tiny hand. Upon returning to Avifauna, I mentioned this safety breach to the bird trainer. "That would never fly in the States," I explained. "Nor would the ostrich walking up to our hotel balcony."

I related the rumor that, at a zoo near my hometown, a visitor sued and won after slipping on a slug.

She chuckled. "We don't sue in the Netherlands," she said. "It's rude." Her final words recalled an ache in my fingertips and in my pride. "We just teach our kids not to be stupid."

Melissa Hart can be reached at www.melissahart.com.