I was up early again this morning. 2am is an inconvenient time of day to be awake; its really too early to get up but you can spend a long time lying around waiting for sleep to take hold of you again.
As it happened, I had plenty to do because not long after I awoke I heard my favourite band of teenagers walking through the carpark. "There's another bike" I hear one say and sure enough, when I climb out into the cockpit they're gathered around my poor car looking through the canopy windows.
This time I have a mobile phone (it arrived in the post on Tuesday), so I called the police service desk (between playing for the police pipe band and my status as a crime victim I'm on a first name basis with half the Hobart constabulary). They sent around a car, but by the time it arrived the teenagers had smashed the back window, discovered there was a car alarm installed, and taken off into the bush (empty handed this time). Although we drove around for a half hour or so nothing further was seen of them - I hope for good, but suspect I might have to find some other place to park, store my pushbike and park my dingy while I'm at work. This whole affair has got me thinking that moving to a city (even a small, friendly one like Hobart) was not a very good idea :(