War journalists are often catapulted from one conflict-torn nation to another, covering stories of blood and gore and human suffering, spending night after night in lonely hotel rooms; it is a weary job but someone has to do it. Why?
When I first heard that I was going to Helmand, well I was thrilled. Mayonnaise is my favourite condiment by a country mile, and to be spending two weeks at the home of Mayonnaise was a career high. And then I realised that I was going to Helmand, not Hellman as I had thought and I was crestfallen.