On board

Anchors away

"Here we go then..." Dianne mumbled to herself with a sense of uncertainty to her voice. The sight of the beautiful city she had spent her past three days wondering around aimlessly in, exploring all manor of things, from the comfort of small cafe's and tapas bars - to the grandeur of its many art museums. Not that she ever had much of an interest in art, yet they were nice ways to fill the time she had, or so she told herself at the time of standing in un-airconditioned rooms in 37 degree heat with a hundred or so equally hot and sweaty people around her.

She had enjoyed Valencia. So much so that the Australian had seemed to have forgotten that she was here to work rather than for a holiday, only up until about 9am that morning when her alarm had unkindly woken her up. Yet whether she had forgotten or not, as the gentle lapping of the tide seemed to slosh up against the boat in a gentle white foam which bubbled underneath them, with the city slowly moving away from her, Dianne was definitely aware of her work schedule now.

Continuing to watch the small people milling about on the port get even smaller, whilst the previously colourful set of buildings with their bright red rooves which made her heart swoon with joy turned into nothing but a blur of beiges and creams, the dancer felt an unintended air of dread fall within the pits of her stomach.

This wasn't her first time away from home, neither was it her first time in another country getting ready to work. Yet never had the redhead spent so much time out on open water, contractually obliged to spend two weeks continuously entertaining the same group of individuals on the same stage.

Feeling her attention diverted thanks to an unnecessarily loud honk from the horn of the ship which scared the living daylights out of her, Dianne righted her posture from her previous position in which she lent all her weight onto the pristine, freshly painted metal bar in front of her. A convenient barrier which protected her and the many people around her from an unfortunate dip in the water below. Grasping a hold of it firmly, locking her elbows as she stood next to it with legs like jelly, Dianne allowed herself to take in a deep breath. Something her mother had always taught her to do from a young age whenever she was feeling overwhelmed. And as she stood there, practically on her own, watching the wonderful city meander off into the distance, whilst the gentle, almost in audible chug of the firing up engines began to whir away several layers beneath her feet, it was fair to say that the feelings of dread she felt where only ever getting stronger. As centimetre by centimetre - wave by wave - dry land began to move away.

Once being startled by another unsuspecting toot of the horn, Dianne snapped herself out of her little daze of concern. Her eyes flicking from side to side taking in one last view of the voluptuous scene, Dianne let go of the white barrier before her and allowed herself to gently take a step away. The initial feel of standing on solid ground whilst the light blue façade of the sea around her began to take its place seeming to feel odd and disconcerting.

Having grown up out in the sticks of Western Australia, Dianne was no stranger to the water. In fact as a child she spent a fare few of her days bathed in the stuff what with the beach being a five minute walk from her front door. Yet she was never a fan of going out any further than where her feet could be comfortably planted on the sandy floor. So the idea of heading to sea for the next two weeks seemed to fill her with a little bit of concern, and was probably what made her legs feel so jelly like that as she took a step away from the white barrier she walked right in to the path of a portly gentleman wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat. Clearly already in the holiday spirit.

"Ooh, sorry." She said loud enough for him to hear as she essentially spun off of his stomach and began walking away. Now with an added sense of embarrassment as he looked over at her with an less than impressed snarl and a look of derision.