While we were back home we celebrated Ant’s Mum’s birthday in the tropical climes of Hamilton Island. Before resuming our usual Nordic programming I have about one hundred photos of cockatoos to share.

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The first of many

Our first day was stellar weather, and the island is ridiculously scenic and tropical. The massive high rise hotel on the beach is not an eyesore/terrible planning error provided you are inside of it looking out.

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Offensively tropical

The hotel is besieged with cockatoos. I loved it. They are such scamps.

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Just having a beer with a few mates
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Argh, where did it get a burger ring!?
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Probably from the balcony that is getting mobbed…
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Precious bounty
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Cutting a fine figure
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I do not love how many people disregard the ‘do not feed the birds’ memos. As a result, there are some real scoundrel birds to contend with on the island, namely this guy:

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So unafraid, so rascally
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Spilled powerade, almost like flower nectar?

None of this food is even good for people, let alone birds.

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This leggy curlew, working the night shift at the restaurant

After the first day the weather went a bit downhill, i.e. it started to look less dazzlingly blue and more like this:

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Still pretty good, really

We did all the requisite island activities – kayaking, hiking around, being startled by a giant turtle, drinking Robert Oatley branded wine… drinking some more Robert Oatley wine, cursing Robert Oatley for stocking his island primarily with his own brand wine, and cursing the gutless golf buggies at every slight incline.

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Assailing the summit
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Quality pool time

It was all about as un-Danish as possible (except for the howling wind towards the end – that part really reminded me of Copenhagen). I’m sure in six months time in the depths of winter I’ll dig out these glorious photos and weep silently in the cold and dark.

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Upside to lingering jet lag – seeing lots of sunrises

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