More Like A Club Than A Pub

It's cold and it's dark, after two hours riding down through the mountains to Wayatinah.

And luckily the Tavern is open.

They leave their bicycles outside, propped up against the stone basin fountain.

The Tavern is warm and friendly. More like a club than a pub.

(That's what it says in the flyer).

Sorry, says the proprietor. It's quarter to nine. Kitchen's closing.

Aw, come on Gary, says a woman throwing darts at a dart board. They look famished.

All right, says Gary. As long as you order something quick. How about bangers and mash?

Bangers and mash all round, says Gaius. And beer for everyone.

Thanks, says the woman, hitting the bullseye. I'll have one and so will my hubby.

Gaius looks taken aback. But Schopenhauer is unconcerned.

Gary vanishes into the kitchen.

The woman comes over to their table, followed by her hubby.

I'm Flossy, says the woman. And this is Greg, my hubby.

Is everyone called Greg in Tasmania? asks Unni.

Only the menfolk, laughs Flossy. Where are you people headed?

Hobart, says Gaius. On bicycles.

Brave people, says Flossy. Greg and me have a caravan. It's warmer, more comfy.

Not locals then? says Schopenhauer.

You remind me of someone, says Greg to Schopenhauer.

Is it Schopenhauer? says Schopenhauer.

Ha ha! laughs Greg. No, Albert Einstein.

We're not locals, says Flossy. But this is more like a club than a pub. We often come through here. Greg does research on water pipes.

I do, says Greg. Just this afternoon we saw two magnificent old wood stave water pipes, stretching all the way down the hill to the Liapoota Power Station. Each about four metres diameter. They were great engineers in the old days.

Indeed, says Gaius. Almost as good as the Romans. Ah, here comes our dinner.

Even Arthur cheers up when he sees the sausages, fat, juicy and brown.

Flossy and Greg are staying at a campsite nearby.

Come down for a nightcap, says Flossy.

Soon they are all in the caravan, drinking award winning Tasmanian whiskey.

The talk turns to the quest for the jellyfish.

You know, says Flossy, I read about a jellyfish this morning, on the ABC website. Bright purple, it was. They found it in Coolum. They called in this expert, Lisa someone. She said, yeah, it was a new species. How's that for a coincidence?

Gaius is thunderstruck. He turns purple and burps up the taste of his sausage. Br-uurk!