There was a big party brewing. As per plan, neither Miss Jill nor I knew about this till we were safely on our way back to jail so we spent a sedate evening, having our usual ‘dinner a deux’ - while the rest of Assam had a really good time.

Each night there was a grisly ritual, played out at precisely 7.00 p.m. This was the Daily Briefing, an occasion that on a ship with passengers can be quite a jolly event. On a cruise with only two it all seemed a little silly. But no matter – it was on the schedule and so must occur.

The head guide and ship’s manager would appear at 6.55 p.m., neatly shaved, showered and changed into freshly laundered, crisply ironed evening wear – Assamese style. The two of them were suspiciously jolly and enthusiastic. I suspected whisky. They would stand by the bar, hovering, waiting for their guests, like the hosts of a Boy Scout social.

At seven, on the dot, Miss Jill would emerge from Cabin One. She would sit in the same chair as she always did and be attended to with a paper napkin and a flurry of crisps, a gin and tonic and, for twenty nine minutes precisely, the total concentration of the head guide and ship’s manager. She saw this as her due.

While this was happening Dogster was in Cabin Eleven smoking all the ganja in Assam. Eventually he’d appear. As long as he kept his mouth shut no one was any the wiser. A printed sheet of tomorrow’s daily activities would be passed out and laboriously explained twice in intricate detail, once by the guide and once by the manager. They would then attempt conversation with their two guests. Dog took to arriving as late as possible, trying to reduce the dreadful forced labour of ‘the briefing’. He’d got it down to a fine art.

At precisely 7.30 p.m. dinner would be served. Our hosts would leap to their feet with great fanfare and escort us to the door. With a smarmy grovel and a fake smile they would shovel Miss Jill and I into the dining room then disappear into the night, leaving me and my perennial companion to our twice daily ordeal by fire.

We swiftly worked out how to co-exist. Every day there would be an excellent lunch at which Miss Jill and discussed the world for precisely an hour – then at dinner time we’d do the same again. Provided I stayed within her barriers, all was fine. She couldn’t speak of personal things, of sex or drugs or unpleasantness, she refused to enter certain discussions - but was fulsome about others. It was my job to try and work out which was which. It was quite a ride.

‘You know the normal kind of people they get on these trips?’ Miss Jill said over dinner one evening.

She was a veteran of a river-cruise or two. I knew what she meant: these cruises attracted a very specific breed of traveller. I nodded.

‘Well, you’re not one of them,’ she said.

Miss Jill picked up a piece of bread and held it out in front of her with a disdainful gaze. After inspecting it, she popped it into her mouth and chewed determinedly. That was all she had to say on the matter.

‘Happy New Year!’ I said to Miss Jill.

Miss Jill didn’t give a toss. It wasn’t on her itinerary - therefore New Year did not exist. It was all for savages anyway. Everybody knew that New Year happened in January. She eased herself up, belched gently and made her way to the door.

‘Mm-m-ph-h,’ she grunted by way of salute and promptly retired to her virgin bed.

‘Good night, my darling,’ I said quietly to her retreating arse, ‘don’t let the bed-bugs bite.’

I trawled off the upstairs deck to pace and smoke. I was feeling a bit solitary. Me, Miss Jill and the guide and ship’s manager. That was it. Two weeks. It was time to quote Shakespeare and howl to the moon. Then I saw that dark shape.

It was those late-night, impromptu dancers that brought it all home; that singing in the blackness, that joy, that sense of one. It was a wonderful surprise. They brought the New Year down to me, took their party to the ship - a gift of health and energy, a blast of lost-lost youth.

Upstairs, in Cabin One Miss Jill lay sleeping. She was old, she was withered, a spinster, a woman who felt no sexual urge at all. She was barren. She was dry. Outside danced the glowing fruit of youth, nature and passion, the natural cycle of life.

Dogster sighed for his lost enthusiasms, he sighed for his bachelor days. He sighed for his youth and his wit and his charm, that elegant, carefree time. Of course it wasn’t anything of the sort, but that wasn’t going to stop the Dog. He was pretty out of it. In this maudlin state, left to his own devices, Dog can become quite a scrambled egg – but these days he knows the sign of the Black Dog approaching.

Black Dog and Dogster don’t get on.

So old Dog went down and joined them, he sat there at their feet, smiled and laughed and charged himself with their unfettered joy. Dogster had forgotten how to laugh like that; he’d forgotten how to dance. No matter. Right now they were doing it for him. Too soon they were gone.

I stood alone on the deck as the Great Silence fell around me. The moon was nearly full. I looked at the ship’s clock. It was midnight.

‘Happy New Year, Dogster,’ I whispered.

I saw a shooting star.

Ahhh, my work is done. That's the last of these for a while. I'm over it.

dogster, as usual a great effort. Too bad mountainhippie had to pollute it. If you wish to spam him you'll have to go the site and pretend to make a reservation, then you can bring up "contact us" and do your thing...

Morning Dogster - I've just arrived so it looks like I'll get it in one hit anyway! I'll just grab a beverage and settle down for a read.

Dogster,
Glad to hear you banished the Black dog, particularly on New Years Eve.

Not sure how we're going to fair, particularly as I don't think we're... ‘the normal kind of people they get on these trips’ in fact think we could be bringing the average age down dramatically!

I think there will be at least 4 other people on the trip and I'm looking forward to it. I love your description of the 'daily breifing." I love it when form continues without function!

I was talking to an anthropologist friend of my who spent a lot of time in the Amazon and his descriptions of taking long boat rides out in the middle of nowhere sounded very much like yours on the Brahmaputra. He said the boats crawled along at a slow pace and it doesn't really matter whether you watch the shore or not because if could look up from your hammock two hours later it is exactly the same scene!

Did you see any of the river dolphins?

Thanks again for the post.

Well Dogster the story was good the first time around but this was even better - filling out lots so thank you again. I doubt you'll ever have to go off and sulk - we are all out here waiting and listening.

I hope you've sorted out Dogster's willy and won't find it missing again.

Thank you, Dogster. I've been cleaning out kitchen cabinets with peppermint oil and pine disinfectant and this...this was a lovely little escape in the middle. I love how rivers make your life so much longer, or at least it seems to be.

Glad you enjoyed. I really just bunged it in for welltraveled.

Now, welltraveled - a coupla practical things. Are you on Sukapha? I hope so. Best of the two boats. Great young captain and crew. Two tips: more if you want.
Tip 1/ Cabin 11 and 12 have double beds, are bigger and have TWO yes two windows. Cabin 11 has been renamed the Dogster Suite. Do it.

Tip 2/ If your cruise says it's starting in Dibrugarh - actually, it'll start in Jorhat. A smart welltraveledbrit would fly to JORHAT, stay a night at Thengal Manor [truly strange] then have a lovely quick transfer the next day.

If you must go Dibrugarh - then stay Mancotta Chang - but then you have an unnecessary three hour transfer the next day. Tell me and I'll advise.

Tip 3/ The Kaziranga stuff is woeful. REFUSE to get up at 4.00 a,m, for elephants - unless you're planning to give birth soon and need the exercise. Game drives at 2.00 p.m. tend not to garner much bang for your bum-sore buck.

Ah, a lovely after dinner diversion - vintage dogster and vintage Bordeaux.

Your descriptions are very evocative. Thank you!

Perfect state to read it, Kathie. Mellow is the mood.
Grey and brown and white are the colours - with a border of pink and red.
It's a simple aesthetic.
The Great Silence is everything.

This is one of those trips where the very ABSENCE of things is the real attraction.

Oh, welltraveled, I forgot to say. Ganja grows by the road - everywhere. I wonder if you'll have eyes to see.

Dogster, as the main character, is just begging for further development. You have a treasure trove of writing material to work with here.

How lucky we are that you shared what you did with us. All that's missing is the post-reading reception to greet the author and have a lively exchange of thoughts and impressions.

P.S. This has Boston GTG written all over it!!!

Greetings Dogster,

Yes, I am on Sukapha, glad to hear about the young captain and crew. I have already booked cabin 12 and I'm planning to have it renamed the welltravelledgit suite!

I'll take the Jorhat run under advisement , thanks. The tree hour transfer doesn't sound good.

On Kaziranga, my husband has already refused to get on the elephants and I have not been know to get up at 4am, for elephants or otherwise. 4am is a late night NOT an early morning, it would not be pretty. Even on safari in Zambia you're not made to get up at such an ungodly hour. I'm presuming/hoping there a game drive alternative.

I'm relying on my nose to track down the local herb.

Dogster, have just come across your report and read it all in the one hit. Your writing style is fabulous and makes one feel that we too are standing there enjoying the experience. Thanks so much.

Shandy - do yourself a favour and search on Dogster for his other reports - all headed Dogster:- -------

Great reading and will keep you amused for ages. Like your Japan report too Shandy.

Dogster have you left us for now? Please give one last aroooh here before going into hibernation!