Qwaleesh- Spent a strange, somewhat hostile day in Zintan yesterday trying for hours to get this permission paper that you now need as a journo in order to go forward through the main checkpoint to the front. Finally got the damn paper and it turned out to almost be a death sentence. Got some disastrously bad intel from the shabaab checkpoint outside of town and got caught in a hail of high velocity sniper rounds that, cliché as it sounds, came out of nowhere. I crammed all 6’3″ of myself onto the floor of the Toyota Hilux and Adal, this really nice Naluti driver who had been living in Manchester until the revolution/war started floored it and we got the hell out there, horn blaring through said shabaab checkpoint. We blasted down the road all the way to Jadu where we managed to get some drinks and biscuits. If that was not enough we had to run the Grad gauntlet back to Nalut after dark when the volleys of poorly aimed Russian artillery start every night.