Journalist on the road to nowhere

In 1998, journalist Simon Reeve wrote a book about a little-known group of terrorists intent on launching attacks against the West. The New Jackals, had the dubious distinction of being the first book published about al Qaeda, some three years before they burst into international notoriety.

Researching the book brought Reeve face-to-face with some of the future terrorists. They were in tears as they talked of their hatred of the United States and their passion for their leader Osama bin Laden.

"These people were absolutely committed to apocalyptic attacks, and it was a commitment I hadn't really experienced from meeting other terrorists. I'd found most other terrorists to be, frankly, pathetic characters."

After September 11, The New Jackals rocketed into the bestseller lists. Reeve has since turned his attention to the problem of failing states.

"If the aftermath of September 11 has taught us anything, it's that instability anywhere around the world can have an effect on Western countries. Not only do we have a moral duty to try to help [people] who are suffering in other countries, but it's in our own selfish interest as well."

Reeve's first major foray into television came with last year's Meet The Stans, a sort of travelling political commentary, with Reeve visiting many of the former Soviet republics of Central Asia, and describing the new and sometimes violent forces shaping the region.

By bringing a rough-and-ready approach to camera work and an easy, conversational style of presentation to complex political situations, Reeve and his team won over the viewing audience.

Among the accolades, the Times in London described it as "a first-class Boy's Own adventure".

His new series uses the same format as Meet the Stans but takes in a broader canvas of international dysfunction. Places That Don't Exist visits six states that have not been formally recognised: Somaliland, Transdniestria, South Ossetia, Abkhazia, Nagorno-Karabakh and Taiwan.

"While we were preparing the series, Western Sahara was recognised by South Africa, so it fell off the list," laughs Reeve.

Although locations and interviews were scoped out in advance, there was also a built-in spontaneity in production.

"You can't pre-plan everything in these sort of countries, they don't operate like Scandinavia. No one turns up for meetings on time," Reeve says, "except the Taiwanese - they're a bit like the Swiss."

But along with spontaneity, there was also danger. On his way to Somaliland - the unrecognised, but fully functioning state operating in the north of Somalia - Reeve passed through the anarchic capital Mogadishu, scene of the infamous Black Hawk Down incident.

Here, a coterie of heavily armed body guards is still considered de rigueur.

"You're warned that a shoot-out could start at any moment. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared but, when you're there for a number of days, it does start to feel normal, which is scary in itself."

Shortly after Reeve's visit, BBC producer Kate Peyton was shot and killed there.

In Central Asia, he visited both sides of the front line between Azerbaijan and the breakaway state of Nagorno-Karabakh.

"It's terrible that at the beginning of the 21st century, in a relatively wealthy part of the world you've got young men in trenches facing [the opposition] across a couple of hundred metres and taking potshots at each other. It's a conflict that the rest of the world has forgotten about."

But Places That Don't Exist has plenty the outside world will have trouble forgetting in these terrorism-conscious times.

In the former Soviet republic of Georgia, Reeve visits an arms warehouse with a door literally tied shut with a piece of string. Outside, under a sweltering summer sun lie rows of unguarded Cold War-era ballistic missiles.

There are many echoes of the Cold War throughout the series.

In the autonomous (unrecognised) republic of Transnestria, Reeve enters a curious Soviet timewarp, complete with fully intact statues of Lenin, grandiose military parades, and the unreconstructed KGB. Here his production team also came up against the dilemmas of documentary-making in an authoritarian state.

"By virtue of being in these places we are compromising people we talk to - it's a very difficult issue. Because you are a film crew, you are almost contaminating people by your presence. But you know that it's important that the rest of the world finds out what's going on in some of these countries.

"We were arrested by the Transnestrian KGB. Although they released us, our local fixer is having ongoing problems because of it. We've helped her financially, but it hasn't really made her life any easier."

But it's not all doom and gloom in Places that Don't Exist. The series achieves a lightness of touch with even the heaviest of material, without slipping into outright frivolity.

Reeves has an irreverent on-screen presence which belies his serious journalist credentials.

"One of the main things I'm interested in is terrorism, but I'm not hugely pessimistic about the future of the world. Yes, terrorism is awful, and yes it has the potential to disrupt our country and kill large numbers of people but it's not going to wipe us out."

He pauses.

"Global warming could do that."

* Holidays in the Danger Zone: Places That Don't Exist starts on BBC World (Sky Digital) from tomorrow at 9.10pm with Reeve's visit to Somaliland.