"For a few moments, a bullet feels like nothing more than a pin prick. I felt my blood freeze. I saw people screaming and the blood gushing from the newly-formed hole in my leg. But no pain, just a burning bubbling up from my stomach," writes Mohammed Abed, describing the moment he was shot by the Israeli army as he covered protests last year.

"Several weeks before finishing my posting as Kabul bureau chief, I had a dream that olive oil could be the unlikely panacea for my insomnia," writes Allison Jackson, who has just finished a year and a half posting to Kabul.

"In the dream I walked into an organic supermarket in the Afghan capital’s heavily fortified green zone – imagine a minimalist version of a Whole Foods Market outlet, but surrounded by concrete blast walls and razor wire."

"A senior UN official chopping up kale shared the olive oil remedy for my chronic sleeplessness."

"And then ... boing! I was awake again."

"But at least, for once, I hadn’t been dreaming about a suicide attack."