Perhaps the best way to explain what a shoot takes from you, is my drive home at the end of the week. Leaving the rest of the team in a small, quaint restaurant Hollie and I once again climbed into the van to begin the long journey home. This time via Italy. As we approached the ferry queue in Olbia I suddenly felt uncomfortably hot and then cold, and then hot again. My world started to spin, I turned off the engine and closed my eyes hoping for some respite that did not come. Having driven us onto the ferry, Hollie found a small, interior cabin which ironically would have looked more at home in a hospital than a boat. I lay listening to the whirring of the engines as the boat rocked gently from side to side, drifting in and out of feverish sleep, wishing, hoping, praying it would go as fast as it came. A loud blasting noise sounded in our dim cabin lit by a small green safety light.
