NO where else in Australia is the glory of Great Britain's success at the London Olympics being hailed loudest, than in Perth's far northern suburbs.
Here, in an enclave increasingly known as Little Britain, are five Australian suburbs that Census 2011 records as the most British, home to more UK expats from the mother country than anywhere else in the nation.
At Jindalee, a suburb crafted out of rolling dunes overlooking the Indian Ocean, the number of British born residents comprises 43 per cent, or 433 people, compared to just 439 born in Australia, with another 108 from South Africa, and 50 from Scotland.
In the neighbouring suburb of Mindarie, the proportion of British born accounts for 34 per cent of the suburb, with 33 per cent in Connolly while former Brits account for 32 per cent of residents of Burns Beach and Carramar.
For new residents like Lisa Jones, who moved from Manchester to Perth with her fiance in June 2010, the mix of work and lifestyle opportunities has been enthusiastically embraced.
There's also the obvious things like the weather, with Lisa observing: "The winters are warmer here than the summers in Manchester."
Runners in the women's Olympic marathon held at the weekend would almost certainly agree.
While a good many of these patriotic Brits continue to wave the Union Flag decades after arriving on Australian shores, the London Olympics are allowing some, even the freshly-minted naturalised Australians, to have two-bob each way on the medal tally.
This same, unique position is being felt in London, where the Office of National Statistics estimated the proportion of Australians living in the UK in 2009 at 118,000 people.
The global financial crisis has sparked an exodus of impoverished expats back to the warm embrace of Australia's good economic tidings, but the Olympics is forcing those left behind to choose sides in sport.
An Australian born-and-bred school friend of mine, Michelle, who left our shores for Britain in the 1990s, has outed herself on Facebook as a "loud and proud and GB supporter", even if some in Britain doubt her credentials to do so.
I emailed her to seek her permission to publish the exchange.
Now a mother to a British son, happily married, and enjoying a career in the UK, the school teacher posed the following question to her local friends, and those who keep in touch from afar.
Michelle wrote: "So my FB friends, I am not allowed to be proud to be British and take pride in our Olympics, because I was born in Australia. True? Discuss."
A friend shot back the obvious: "Are you not saying that you are not Australian then? You can't be both."
Sensing alienation from her adopted country, the Aussie abroad countered: "I was born there, my family roots are there, and I am proud of that."
"But who I am now, and who I was then are different, they are both great and I am privileged to have experience of two wonderful countries but my life is now GB, my son, husband, friends etc and I will stay here till I die."
"Be happy that others adore your country of birth. I do well here and am part of your society."
Not all see it that way, particularly in sport, where divided loyalties always trigger furious debate, and where by and large one is expected to support the country of their birth - up until the point where they are not winning.
I hold no allegiance to Britain, but I appreciate the opportunity for that country - as Australians did in 2000 - to dine out on its sporting glory at a home Olympic Games, even if it that happens to be a piece of battered, imported fish served with greasy chips.
That the perennial bridesmaid of international tennis, Andy Murray, has managed to take home the gold after comprehensively seeing off that game's world number one and number two, says a lot about how passion for one's own country can be a powerful, motivating force.
When Scotland again takes to the field in its own right at the Commonwealth Games in 2014 - this time on home soil in Glasgow - it's hard to imagine that one of that city's hometown heroes, Mr Murray, could choose an English playing strip over a Scottish one.