The Rednecks and The Hipster

Seven o'clock in the morning. The Spirit of Tasmania has docked in Devonport. All passengers with bicycles have disembarked.

Devonport, says Gaius, looking around. At last. Now, where is Hobart?

Unni calls up a map.

We're here, says Unni. Hobart is down the bottom. About seven hundred kilometres away.

Schopenhauer pats the tan San Marco saddle of his bicycle.

You'll be glad of that, says Unni. Your bike looks really comfy. And you have a basket. It's kind of hipster.

Excuse me, says Captain Louttit. I have a question.

What? says Gaius.

I am a sailing man, says Captain Louttit. I know little about bicycles.

Do you think that is a question? asks Schopenhauer. Tell me. Your answer may affect my theory of natural history.

I thought your theory referred exclusively to barnacles, says Gaius.

Not any more, says Schopenhauer. I'm extending it to other types of seafood, and beyond.

The listening barnacles experience a sinking feeling. Are they seafood? And......what is beyond?

I hadn't got round to my question, resumes Captain Louttit. My question is, am I needed for this overland leg? I could make my way by sea and meet you in Hobart.

Wouldn't hear of it, says Gaius. You are a valued member of our party and the guardian of my barnacles.

Our barnacles, says Schopenhauer.

Of course, says Gaius. Our barnacles.

Mode of travel? says Captain Louttit.

Schopenhauer will carry you, says Gaius. In his basket.

Arthur is glad that they have reached this resolution. Perhaps now they can get going.

Arthur places the jug containing Captain Louttit and the barnacles into the hipster basket of the bicycle of Schopenhauer, spilling water on the tan San Marco seat.

Careful! says Schopenhauer. I don't like wet trousers.

Nor me, says Arthur, carefully spilling a bit more.

Come on, says Unni. We have to cross a bridge, then find Route B71. It's forty kilometres to Narawntapu National Park.

They are riding their bicycles across the bridge when a car full of rednecks speeds by, narrowly missing them.

Rednecks, shouting redneck abuse, mildly menacing.