‘I think “hop” may be too optimistic a word.’ I flinched, adding indignantly, ‘And I didn’t come on board for those “macho hottie-hottie-dumb-dumbs”, as you so eloquently call them. I just wanted to go on a cruise with my two sisters, and booked the first available one.’

The doctor peered at me over his reading glasses once more. ‘You booked a cruise of your own free will? Well, there’s no need for a urine sample, as you’re clearly not taking any mind-expanding drugs.’

If my tentative climb up onto the gurney hadn’t left me wincing from pain, I would have lobbed a zinger back in this objectionable doctor’s direction. Once in the supine position, however, the barbed retort I was planning came out sounding a bit like a strangled moose, because the doctor had started probing my upper thighs through my borrowed tracksuit pants. Biting my lip, I just stared at his scuffed shoes – shoes that had gone out of fashion wars ago.

‘Dear god, the conversations I’ve had to endure,’ the doctor went on, acerbically. ‘I had one young bloke in here who actually said, “Doc, my ears have been popping and I was wondering if it’s due to our change in latitude?” Okay, bend your right knee . . . This Einstein also wanted to know if he advanced his clock ahead one hour, would breakfast still be at the same time in the morning? Okay, now push back against my hand . . . Another brainiac wanted to know if the water in the toilet was fresh or salt. I had to say, “I dunno, kid, I’ve never tasted it.” Only this morning I heard another gormless gorilla asking a member of the crew, “Hey, mate, do these stairs go up and down?” . . . So, does it hurt more here or there?’

‘Ouch! There. Definitely there!’ Once I’d caught my breath, I added, conversationally. ‘Yes, these “cubs” are not exactly Mensa material, are they?’

‘Densa, more like it . . . Now lift your other leg.’

‘I overheard one young guy ask the entertainment officer about arrangements for the last night on board. He wanted to know if he should put his bags outside the cabin before or after he went to sleep,’ I conversed, hoping to distract myself from the strain pain.

‘Genius!’ said the jaded medic as he gently massaged my legs, pinpointing the source of my discomfort. ‘Well, finding yourself accidentally on a cougar cruise must be the pits. I dunno what’s worse, having to make small talk over dinner with boys who have the personality of a paving tile, or listening to a band who are busy demonstrating that knowing only three chords does not have to be a barrier to a career in music . . . Does it hurt if I press here?’

‘Yes!’