Editor's note: Some of the names used in this dispatch have been changed to protect people’s identities.
I arrive at Baghdad Airport shortly before 4 a.m., darkness still covering the desert below as I fly in from Istanbul. After not more than an hour of sleep, I stumble into the Baghdad airport, clear immigration and collect my bags.
The airport is vacant, with a few cabs lined up outside to take arriving passengers to a drop-off point five minutes outside the airport. No one is allowed to meet you outside the terminal so I find a taxi, ring my fixer Mohammed and hand the phone to the driver. We head off. At the first checkpoint I take a photo with my phone, only to get us pulled over. A policemen walks over and asks me why. He demands to see the picture and he insists that I erase it. Read more...
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