The best thing for me to do before I'm off to Afghanistan is go to the movies, to see The Road to Guantánamo by Michael Winterbottom.

Or so I thought.

I had seen his Cock and Bull Story, a genuine attempt at avant-garde based on Lawrence Sterne’s Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy, Gentleman, one of the classics I haven’t read.

David Denby wrote in The New Yorker about Winterbottom’s Guantánamo, "This exposé of American sadism is a shocker, but the movie doesn’t bring us any closer to understanding the abuse that is carried out in our names.

I had my own problems with this movie. I could not understand some of the actors, a minor problem, and the lines between fiction and non-fiction were blurry.

But then, what exactly is there to understand about abuse carried out in our names?

And if the abuse is carried out in our names, which I think is the case, there must be a link between Camp Delta at Guantánamo Bay and Camp Holland in southern Afghanistan, which I’m going to visit in 24 hours.

You’ll hear from me. Inshallah.