Chopper ride

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Headed back to Perth after a few days down in Margaret River. Paula's friend Lainey went way beyond the call of duty and offered us a proper bed for a few nights and then drove around town pointing out the good bits to us like a couple of pensioners on a day trip.

Thanks to Lainey we saw a lot more of Perth this time around, including a few hours poking around Fremantle (which was a bit like Spitalfields). Also went up to Kings Park for a spanking view of the city, had brekky overlooking the beach in Cottesloe, and had a few beers watching Germany thump Argentina in the world cup.

Elaine flies helicopters. She sorted us out with a complimentary 20-minute flight across the city. Despite the fact they wouldn't let me hang out the side chewing a cigar and strafing the ground with heavy machine-gun fire, it was still absolutely brilliant. Paula got lucky and got the front seat with the best view, although the pilot did have to ask her to stop touching his leg, which was a bit embarrassing.

Loud and bumpy, but with a clear blue sky we could see for miles and it was great. I was grinning for hours afterwards.

We topped the day off with some cheeky sunday late afternoon pints with Elaine and her friends, and then hit the road north the next day (but only after we had a look around the Perth Maritime Museum, which Paula insisted on doing),

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Photos

Our pilot, Stringfellow Hawk
His real name was George.