People have been asking me about my recent coverage of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan, wondering what sticks out in my memory. After some reflection, one part of my experience keeps rising to the top – the mountain tunnels.

The Reuters multimedia team was based in the north-east town of Tono, a small mountain town situated above the coastline. Tono had an eerie feeling to it, almost all of the shops and restaurants were closed. But you wouldn’t know the town had been rocked by a massive earthquake. There were no physical signs.

Every morning we would wake up early and pile into cars for the drive down to the coast.

To get from Tono to the coastal areas you need to drive through several massive tunnels, some stretching as long as 5kms. These tunnels would normally be well lit and ventilated but that wasn’t the case any longer. They were pitch black inside and even with the windows shut tight; you couldn’t help but get extremely nauseous from petrol fumes.

In my mind the tunnels were like gateways. When you enter, you leave behind Japan’s picturesque mountain country and drive through a void that seems to never end. When you finally see the light on the other side you are greeted by a scene that can only be described as an apocalyptic nightmare. No matter how many times I made this trip, the scene that awaited me on the other end of the tunnels never ceased to amaze me in the worst way possible.

You have all seen the images. Whole towns washed away and massive ships amid debris where those towns should have been. Thousands of survivors piled into shelters still very much in shock. You ask these kind people how they are coping. What will they do? Nine times out of ten, the answer was “I don’t really know”.